Because He's Perfect

by Anna Edwards

  Hesitantly, I run my hands up and down his arms, tracing the toned muscles with my fingertips. Drew’s eyes bore into mine, and electricity sizzles between us in that moment: hot, potent, and charged with desire.

  Drew unbuckles my belt, and within seconds he’s freed my rock hard cock from the confines of my jeans. I hiss when the cool air kisses the heated skin, and I growl with pleasure when he wraps his hand around my throbbing length and starts to work my cock with expert hands.

  It’s been too long since anyone but myself did this, and the firm grip he has on my cock sends tingles flowing through my whole body. Fuck, his hand feels so damn good wrapped around me, and I can’t do anything but grip his arms while white-hot pleasure pulses through me at his touch.

  “Slow down,” I grit out through clenched teeth, not wanting to come too soon like I’m an inexperienced teenager having a quickie.

  Drew chuckles, and he slams his mouth down on mine, squeezing me firmly before brushing his fingertips down my shaft to fondle my balls. The warbled moan that gets trapped in my throat is almost embarrassing, but when he slips a finger below my balls to tantalize and tease my ass, I no longer care what I sound like.

  I’m panting heavily, and my head is spinning as I try to draw in enough air. But the combination of what he’s doing mixed with the slow deprivation of oxygen to my brain, sends my senses haywire. When Drew works his way down my body and takes me in his mouth, I fucking lose it. An unstoppable wave of orgasm rips through me, and I’m coming in hot spurts straight into his mouth.

  The strangled grunt that escapes me fills the room, and I am close to passing the fuck out. I can’t breathe properly, and I’m suffocating on the pleasure still rippling through my shuddering body with the aftershocks.

  Before I can move, or say anything, Drew is pulling me upright and pushing the blue inhaler into my empty hand.

  “Breathe, Will,” he says with a trace of worry in his voice as wheezy breaths rattle in my chest.

  I don’t need to use the inhaler, though, not this time, because as soon as I’m sat upright and coming down from the high of my orgasm, my racing heart and rapid breathing begin to calm of their own accord. Although I do employ my breathing exercises to speed up the process, in through my nose, out through my mouth, until I’m no longer wheezing.

  Chapter Eight

  Drew

  I thought Will was gorgeous when I met him, but the sounds coming from him when I had him in my hands and mouth were sexy as fuck, and I’m bristling with barely restrained desire. I wasn’t completely surprised by the change in his breathing pattern; it seems when he gets worked up in any way it can trigger an attack, and I can’t help wondering if it will always be that way. The fact he has asthma doesn’t bother me, and while I’m sure it’ll always be a concern, I hope, for his sake, it’s not always so severe.

  “Are you okay?” I ask once he seems to be feeling better, and he’s sorted himself out and zipped up his jeans.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been exerting myself more than usual, and I’m still adjusting to the new meds. Plus, the crappy weather really messes me up; this time of year sucks for me. Actually summer isn’t much better with all the pollen floating around, but at least I can take allergy pills to help with that,” Will answers with a shrug and a hollow laugh.

  “Is there anything that can help you now?” I question, and he shakes his head.

  “Not really, I can double up the dose of the preventative inhaler…the brown one, but that’s all. Can’t change the weather, and meds can’t fix what’s wrong; they just make it more bearable,” he says, surprising me with how forthcoming he’s being about this.

  “So the brown inhaler helps prevent the attacks, and the blue one helps stop them when they’re happening,” I state, hoping I’ve got it all straight.

  “Yeah,” he laughs, “There are others which are a bit different, and they also vary in color: red, purple…”

  He trails off. His cheeks are a light shade of red, and he looks thoughtful for a moment.

  “I don’t talk about this with anyone. It’s not easy to even admit I have asthma,” he mumbles out the last few words and sucks his bottom lip, for a moment, before releasing it.

  “You can tell me anything. You already know I’ve got no issue with you having asthma, and it doesn’t change the fact I’m interested in seeing where this goes,” I tell him because it’s the truth, and I know he needs to hear it.

  It’s clear someone has told him it’s a huge problem and let him down in some way, and honestly, it pisses me off because it’s not something he can ever change about himself.

  Will smiles faintly at me and doesn't say anything, but his body language betrays how deep his insecurities run. I'm hoping he will eventually accept that I won't leave him or make him feel inadequate because he has asthma.

  I throw myself down on the bed next to him, and when he makes a move to stand, I fling an arm around his shoulder and pull him close to me.

  “I hope you’re not planning on leaving anytime soon? I've barely scratched the surface of what I want to do to you,” I whisper in his ear before biting on the lobe.

  Will looks at me out of the corner of his eye, and I watch as his lips twitch into a cocky grin, casting all seriousness aside for the moment.

  “I wonder if I can get you to be the one gasping for breath by the time I'm done with you,” he retorts, and I laugh.

  “Bring it on, asshole,” I challenge, and he lunges at me without skipping a beat, and immediately owns me with his mouth.

  “Breathe with me,” I remind him, and he chuckles before inhaling deeply, preparing himself to take the plunge into the future and explore something new and exciting with me.

  THE END

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  Chapter One

  Kara

  Using the key card, I let myself into the hotel room. Sheer exhaustion has me slipping off my shoes straight away. Leaving them under the chair beside the door, my toes sink into the plush, luxurious carpet.

  This is my favorite day of the week. Many of my clients prefer their own beds. I’m not picky. Whatever makes them comfortable. This one, however, loves to meet in this expensive hotel. It’s always the same room and time. Nothing deviates on a Tuesday night.

  He’s a little different than the rest. I’ve been told the man is a recluse, from what the agency could gather. The details I’ve been informed of are all a little vague as the client seems to be a fiercely private person, but he’s willing to pay well. I call him Mr. X as Mr. Smith just doesn’t suit him.

  Instructions had been waiting for me on the bed the first evening I had met him. The neatly written words had informed me that the light had to remain off at all times. That I had to lay on the bed and wait his arrival.

  At first, I hadn’t been sure what to make of it. But remembering what the agency had told me I had guessed the man was obsessive about his privacy. I’ve gotten some strange requests in my time, from some of my more eccentric clients, but this had been the oddest. As long as none of them push me out of my comfort zone, then I’m more than happy to please. They follow the rules, and everything goes fine. One perk with the mysterious Mr. X is that he allows me to stay in the hotel room overnight if I chose to. It means an evening away from my dreary little flat I share with my younger brother. He’s also generous to pay for room service. An evening of luxury I never get working at the cafe.

  Dumping my coat and bag on the chair, I move to sit down on the side of the bed. It feels good to be off my aching feet, at last. Work has been more than busy. It’s been n
onstop all day, and this is the first rest I’ve had since nine am.

  Paying off my older brother’s gambling debts is taking its toll. The more I pay back the more he borrows. It’s gotten to the stage I’ve threatened to stop helping him. Tony has finally promised to quit. I sighed. All I can do is hope he’s telling the truth. This has become nothing but a bitter circle for the last year. He and our younger brother, Sam, are all the family I have left, but even I can see his faults. Know that if he drags us down with him it will be the end for all of us. It’s why I’ve taken on this evening job. The money I get from the agency pays the rent and keeps a roof over Sam’s head as well as my own. Anything I get from the cafe is swallowed by Tony’s debts. Since Mum died three years ago, nothing has been the same. She’d always worked hard. With our Dad skipping out before Sam was born, we didn’t have anyone else to rely on.

  Glancing at my watch, I checked the time. Eight pm. My client will be here in twenty minutes. Crawling onto the mattress, I click off the light and settle into my usual position. The guy is always punctual, and he never misses a session. He rarely talks. We’ve had brief moments of chat, but it never lasts long.

  The silence begins to stretch. As the minutes pass, I can feel my eyelids growing heavy. Stifling a yawn with the back of my hand, I close my eyes for a moment.

  Darius

  I slip quietly into the room, careful to make some noise so Kara knows I’m there. The first evening together, I’d startled her with my soundless tread. Her frightened scream is something I have no wish to repeat. Out of habit, I reach out, fingers brushing the light switch. She’s always obeyed my rules, but I’m careful to the point of paranoid. Satisfied it’s off, I move further into the room. I’d taken my time getting to know the layout of the place and memorizing it. Where every stick of furniture is placed, the bathroom and entrance. I prefer the comfort of my home. My domain. There, I have no trouble navigating the darkness I live in. Everything has its place and purpose.

  Toeing out of my shoes and leaving them in the usual place, I stalk to the bed.

  I’ve been looking forward to this evening. The buzz of anticipation as the time grew closer. It’s the one day of the week I can really relax.

  Knees bumping the end of the bed, I reach down to the softness of the duvet, greeting my palms. An ankle meets my fingers.

  “Good evening, Miss Germaine.” My quiet murmur is met with silence.

  Frowning at the lack of response, I crawl onto the mattress beside her, taking a moment to savor her scent. It’s something that struck me the first time we met. Something vanilla. Maybe her shampoo mixed with her feminine aroma. Nestling against her, I can’t stop myself from nuzzling her hair.

  A soft snore greets my ears.

  Cocking my head, I listen to the deepened sound of her breathing.

  Asleep.

  A smile tugs at the corner of my lips. That’s never happened before. I’ve heard the tiredness in her voice, felt it in her body, but she’s never once fallen asleep in our allotted time. All I know is her name. Her personal life is just a mystery as mine is to her. Something I’ve been tempted to dip into but always avoided.

  I’ll let her rest. Holding her closely is all that matters, and this evening, I have my wish.

  Chapter Two

  Kara

  I wake to the feeling of being restrained. Still half asleep, I panic against the restraints. They feel like steel bands, which flex around me. Unable to break free, my struggles become frantic.

  “Stop struggling,” a gruff voice mutters in my ear. “You’re safe.”

  Blinking to wakefulness, I stare into the darkness. Relaxing in the client’s embrace, I try to slow my racing heart. Well this is embarrassing. How long have I been out? And why hadn’t he woken me? Ok, the guy isn’t a big talker, but as a professional hugger, I’m supposed to be conscious at all times. If the agency finds out I’ve nodded off, I could lose this job.

  Biting on my lip, I make a small sound of distress. I really need this work. The cafe wages aren’t enough to get by on. Not with all the bills and loans I have to pay. It doesn’t matter that they’re not my own. The loan shark doesn’t care about that. All that matters to him is that my brother’s debts get paid. Slick has made that more than clear on several occasions.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” I whisper into the silence of the room. The body heat of the male holding me keeps me cocooned in a strange feeling of safety. Mr. X is big. Really big. With his muscled arms cradling me to his firm chest, I feel like a child. The steady thump of his heart always calms me. It’s the only place I’ve ever found a moment of peace. Not that I would ever tell the client that. He’d probably think I’m crazy.

  “You’re tired; it’s ok,” he murmurs in response. “You can go back to sleep, if you like.” The warmth of his breath sends goose bumps over my cheek. Laying on his side, he’s tucked against my back. I try not to melt into him. Every toned hard inch of manliness has had me distracted from day one.

  “I’m not supposed to sleep on the job,” I admit.

  “I won’t tell anyone. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  It’s tempting, but with him next to me, I know that’s never going to be possible. “Thanks, but I really can’t.”

  “Time’s almost up anyway.” The arms around me tighten fractionally. It’s as if he’s reluctant to go. More and more, I’ve noticed it. Or maybe it’s my over active imagination. My brain compensation for being in the dark every time we meet.

  Our hour is already up? I feel the heat of a blush warming my cheeks. Has he been listening to me snore this whole time?

  “Can I ask you a question?” The words are out of my mouth before I have a moment to think them through.

  A pause follows in the intimate dark. “Sure.” My client’s reply is gruff.

  “Does this really help you? Hugging me every week for an hour?”

  “More than you’ll ever know.” The wealth of feeling I hear in his voice makes a smile spread across my face. Taking the job had felt silly at first, but knowing I’m helping someone in some small way makes it more worth it than the money.

  Before I can ask anything else, the masculine body beside me shifts away. Mattress dipping with his weight, he moves from the bed. It leaves me with a feeling of emptiness. A sensation that grows every week we meet. Knowing I’m not allowed to move, I stare up at the ceiling in the blackness. I can hear Mr. X moving around. The rustle of clothes as he puts on his shoes.

  “I’ve left you a tip on the table by the door.”

  “You don’t have to do that; the agency pays me,” I tell him, gaze shifting blindly in his direction. For once, I wish I can see him. I’ve always had a sneaking suspicion that he’s a celebrity. One who wants to avoid scandal in the papers. Not knowing what he looks like always sends my imagination spinning. I like his voice though. How he keeps it gravelly and deep. If I’m honest with myself, I have a crush on my mysterious client. Something that increases every time I’m around him. There are times at work I find myself day dreaming about Tuesday nights. Fantasies I keep buried. The feel of his larger frame against mine. His hands roaming my figure. Deep and sinful, that voice of his raspy in my ear as he tells me all the wicked things he’ll do to me.

  “I want to, and they don’t need to know. Are you going to spend the night here?”

  Biting my lip, I swallow my needy groan. I really shouldn’t think that way when I’m with him. It isn’t professional.

  He’s strayed closer again. Sometimes, I feel like he can almost see in the dark, but that’s ridiculous.

  “If that’s still ok...you’re very generous,” I reply, hoping he can hear my gratitude. This is bliss. An escape from reality. One I secretly enjoy. No noisy neighbours, just a little bit of luxury and solitude I crave.

  “The room will only go to waste if neither of us use it, and it’s already paid for. Remember to order something to eat from room service. I’m sure you must be hungry.” F
ootsteps move away from the bed.

  “Thank you.” I know I have to wait ten minutes after he leaves before I can move. His instructions have always been clear. They’re something I’ve never broken.

  “See you next week, Miss Germaine,” Mr. X calls quietly before the door clicks closed.

  Chapter Three

  Darius

  “Ready to go home, Sir?” Malcolm quietly enquires. I know I’m over my time. The vibration of my watch alerted me when my time was up. He’s probably been worried about me. Not just my employee, he’s become my friend and eyes when I need them.

  I nod in his direction. “Yes.”

  A hand meets mine. Curling my fingers around the top of the cane, I tap it out in front of me until it hits the floor.

  The night of the accident still haunts me. There are times I wake with a scream, the sound of crushing metal and shattering glass pounding in my ears. I’m lucky to have lived. Broken ribs, legs, and arm, it was only my vision that was permanently taken.

  Even to this day, I sometimes wake confused. My dreams so vivid with color and details that, for a fraction of a second, I forget that’s all gone. Grief follows; the hollow feeling inside that I took for granted what I no longer have. To never see again the sunlight, the flowers, the face of others.

  Sightless, my other senses have become far keener. Taste, touch, sound, the change in temperature have become my world. A place it’s taken me a long time to adjust to.

  Malcolm took the brunt of my anger at the start. Hired to help me, the ex-solider never treated me softly. The five others before him didn’t even make it a full week. I loathed being handled like an invalid. He was the only one who pushed me to do things myself. Got me out of my self-pity to realize it wasn’t the end of the world. I’d survived, unlike the other poor soul who had been driving the other car. I had my life. My mind. I had to find a new way of living.