Necessity's Door by Fiona Glass

Author:Fiona Glass [Glass, Fiona]
Language: eng
Format: epub

This time the sex was good, if not exactly earth-shattering. Graham kept his fumbling to a minimum, and Jake was so keyed up that he came too soon, before he’d had the chance to savour the clinging warmth of Graham’s mouth around his cock. Once he’d got his breath back, he returned the favour after all, then lay back on the sofa and watched in a heavy-lidded haze as Graham tidied himself up and prepared to go.

“You off, then?” he managed at last, when Graham had buttoned his jacket and was hovering by the front door.

“Yeah, I’d better. I’ve got this dinner party, remember?” Graham wrinkled his nose. “I’m not mad keen, but they’re Monica’s friends, and I don’t want to let her down. I already feel bad about telling her I’ve stayed late at work.”

“She knows you’re gay, then, your wife?”

“Bi-going-on-gay, yes. I told her before we even got married.”

“And she doesn’t mind?” To Jake it was inconceivable that any life partner could be so unconcerned, but there was nowt so queer as folk, as the saying went.

“As long as I’m careful and discreet. She knows I love her. She’s had seventeen years for me to prove that much.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t she mind you using, you know, prostitutes?”

Graham laughed. “I’ve never actually asked, but I suspect she’d rather that than some long-term boyfriend to rival her. Paying for an occasional fuck doesn’t mean as much. Oh, I almost forgot. Thirty, I think you said, for a blowjob?” He grabbed his wallet and thumbed out a twenty and a ten.

Jake scowled, partly at the thought of not mattering much and partly in embarrassment at the talk of money again. “There’s no need for that. I’m not working tonight.”

“Don’t be daft. Besides, it’s the least I can do if I cost you a client on Sunday night.” He put the notes down on the table where Jake kept his keys and let himself out.

Jake just hoped that this time, Mac was where he was supposed to be, and not hanging round outside his front door. It had been a calculated risk inviting Graham here—one he suspected had ultimately paid off, but not one he wanted to try explaining to Mac.

The trouble was that it was getting harder and harder to keep work and personal lives apart, even for an experienced undercover cop like him. Graham was growing on him the more they saw each other, growing to fit like a comfortable old shirt, and he suspected Graham felt the same. All that talk of presents and flowers was hardly normal when it came to dealing with prostitutes. His short time on the streets had at least taught him that.

Long ethical arguments with himself would have to wait, though, because it was time he went back to work. Pausing only to shower the scent of Graham off his skin, he dressed in his usual rentboy gear, stuck a couple of condoms in a back pocket, and opened the front door. He was

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