Hipster Brothel (contemporary gay romance) by K.A. Merikan

Author:K.A. Merikan [Merikan, K.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Acerbi & Villani ltd.
Published: 2017-01-22T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Jo hated the brothel idea. He absolutely loathed it. Every day he regretted joking around about it in the first place, but since he’d set his mind to ‘helping’ Mr. B with it, he was becoming more convinced that it was the right course of action. Mr. B was eager to work on new elements for the brothel, as if all he wanted was to delay the actual escorting jobs. Which made sense, because Jo was sure Mr. B wasn’t as comfortable with the concept as he’d been claiming.

The problem was that it had been three weeks since they’d gotten together, and instead of waning, Mr. B’s enthusiasm for the project seemed to have grown, and it was work and money going down the drain in preparation for something that ultimately wasn’t likely to happen. Jo had clearly underestimated Mr. B’s resolve when he decided to act counterintuitively and support him until Mr. B understood himself what a horrible idea this whole venture was.

Especially because they’d gotten really close in the last few weeks. Closer than they’d ever been, with sleepovers on an almost daily basis, cheap dates (because all the money went into the contorted business idea) that somehow felt luxurious, and the sex. Oh, the sex.

Mr. B gave the most amazing head on the planet. He was sweet. He was giving. He was fun to be around, even in bed where most people tended to be somewhat too serious. Being with him was such a revelation that Jo clung to it every day, still overwhelmed by how he’d gotten so lucky.

The promotional shoot for the leaflets and website was a lot of fun, with Jo having the opportunity to help Mr. B get ready, but that was mostly because in the proximity of Mr. B’s dick, Jo found it difficult to think reasonably and simply had to put his mouth on it. The photos did turn out as great as all the fun happening throughout the photoshoot, but when Jo actually looked through them, he couldn’t help but feel they were too good. Too hot.

They would entice people to have a taste of Mr. B, and Jo was getting nauseated just thinking about it.

So Jo lost them. Or at least he ‘lost’ them. Hidden in a folder on his computer they would still be his secret pleasure, and when all this brothel nonsense blew over, he could pretend he’d found them, and have a laugh with Mr. B about it.

They were meeting in a cafe in town today, and Mr. B joked that it would be their first real date, but when Jo saw him park his bicycle with a little bouquet of roses in hand, he blanked.

Jo crooked his head and slowly pushed his hands into his pockets, watching Mr. B dismount from his place at the table by the window. B looked different too, even if the flowers were the first thing that grabbed Jo’s attention. His jeans were darker and narrower on the legs that his usual pants, and he wore a fitted shirt in olive-green that made Mr.

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