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let go of the seat. He grabbed Rolex’s wrist and pulled his fingers from his mouth. Then he grabbed onto Jared’s hips and, as much as the position allowed, thrust up into him.
    Jared moaned. His body went almost completely slack for a second, but he recovered, and he started to move with Tristan instead of the music.
    So what if he’d lost control? So what if he’d lost whatever game they were playing? He couldn’t help it. He wanted Jared, needed Jared, had to have Jared, and didn’t give a damn about anything else.
    “Oh shit,” he breathed, and shut his eyes tight. He gritted his teeth, forced himself into Jared, and came so bloody hard, he had to—ironically—grab onto the chair again to keep from collapsing.
    He heard husky laughter, turned on and amused, and the john’s hand patted his cheek just a bit too hard. “Doesn’t seem right to let the disobedient one come and the good boy gets nothing.”
    “Hardly . . . uh. Nothing.” Jared looked back over his shoulder at the john.
    The john reached down, steadied himself with one hand on the back of the chair, and then took Jared’s hand and wrapped it around his cock, moving. Jared moaned, movements speeding up as the john made him bring himself closer to climax.
    Jared got more frantic, less controlled, and just as he was tightening around Tristan’s still-hard and hypersensitive cock, he pulled the john down by the neck and kissed him. It was an open-mouthed, hot, grateful kiss that tightened Tristan’s balls, and not just with arousal. Jealousy flared in his chest as the john kissed Jared back, stroking him faster and then, when Jared tightened more and came, every muscle in his body taut, stroking him through it.
    The john broke the kiss. “That was beautiful.” He stepped back, and Tristan saw blotches of semen on his white shirt, making it translucent in places above the massive tent in his hip-hugging tailored trousers.
    Then he smirked. “Ooh. It seems I didn’t pay for those orgasms.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Such a shame .”
    Tristan felt so bloody good he didn’t even care.
    Apparently Jared didn’t either. He slid off Tristan, turned around, and kissed him, gentle and heartfelt. Real. It was real . They were both still out of breath, but Tristan didn’t need air badly enough to hurry this kiss, and he let Jared take the lead. Jared teased his lips apart, exploring Tristan’s mouth like he was in charge, and they had all the time in the world, and they didn’t have a turned on, paying client standing next to them.
    “Jesus, that’s hot.” Rolex stroked Tristan’s hair while Tristan and Jared lazily made out. This isn’t for you. “I could watch you two do that all night.”
    “I could do it all night,” Jared murmured as he drew back from Tristan’s lips. He looked up at Rolex. “But we’re not done with you yet.” He reached for Rolex’s waistband, hooked a finger in it, and pulled the man closer. “We should take care of that.” Glancing at Tristan and grinning, he added, “Shouldn’t we?”
    Tristan narrowed his eyes and looked up at Rolex. “For a small fee, yes.”
    Rolex gulped. “H-how much?”
    “Two hundred.”
    Rolex didn’t even blink. Without a word or a second’s hesitation, he went to the couch, and Tristan and Jared exchanged grins as the john pulled out some more money. Jared rose up off Tristan’s cock, but stayed in his lap. Tristan wrapped one arm around him, grateful just to be able to finally touch his skin, which was damp with perspiration, still almost feverishly hot beneath Tristan’s palm.
    Once the cash was added to the pile, Rolex returned and stood right beside them. “Now. Where were we?”
    “Getting you off, if I recall.” Jared reached for Rolex’s trousers.
    “One of these days,” the john said, slurring a little as Jared drew down his zipper, “I’m going to pay for an entire night with the two of you. So I can—” He cut himself off with a