Boyfriend for Hire(50)
“Sorry,” Nic says. “I didn’t mean to dampen the mood.”
I lean over and press a kiss to his lips. He tastes like champagne, and I smile. “You didn’t. I love that you always tell me what’s on your mind.”
He nods. “Course I do, baby.”
I pat his hand. “When we get back, let’s have Case over for dinner.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Once the food has been put away, we lie back against the pillows again. It’s so peaceful here. The sky is a brighter blue than I’ve ever seen it, and the sun shines brightly overhead, but we’re shaded by the white cotton draped over the poster bed. A warm, happy feeling fills me as I nestle in closer to my husband.
“I guess we got our happy ending, didn’t we?” I ask, tilting my chin up toward him.
I look into his chocolate-brown eyes, unable to imagine being with anyone but him. I never knew I could love someone this much, and the whole wedding and honeymoon have been a dream come true.
“You know what the best part is?” he asks, pulling me in closer. “This is only the beginning.”
I lay my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. For once, I’m not worried about the future. Actually, for the first time in a long time, I’m not worried about anything at all. I’m just happy to be here with Nic in this moment.
Our story may not be the most conventional, but I wouldn’t change a thing about the journey.
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Thank you for reading Boyfriend for Hire! Up next is Case’s story, The Hookup Handbook. He begins falling for the one person he can’t have—the very off-limits younger sister of his best friend, Ryder. I’m in love with the book, and I hope you’ll check it out!
What to Read Next
My love wand is on a strike.
As bad as that blows, pun unintended, it’s ten times worse for me. I’m a male escort, but not just any escort, I’m the escort. The one with a mile-long waiting list and a pristine reputation that’s very well-deserved.
Only now, I’m on hiatus. Because after years of pleasing women all over the city, my man missile decides to get finicky. And the only woman he wants? Someone I can never have—my best friend’s younger sister, the nerdy and awkwardly adorable Sienna.
She’s working at the agency this summer, keeping me organized, handling paperwork, and most importantly, keeping me on track to finish writing my book about sex and intimacy, which is due to my publisher in thirty days.
She thinks I hate her, that I don’t want her here. The truth is much more twisted. I get hard every time she walks into my office. Her wide blue eyes and pouty mouth drive me wild with desire, and if she stays, I’m not sure how much longer I can stay away from her.
Little Miss Overachiever says she’s here to help? Fine. I’m going to put her nerdy, curvy tush to work.
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Chapter One
Case
“Charlie, you’re the best agent in the biz—and you know I love you—but you’ve got to stop worrying. I have everything under control.”
Wedging my phone between my ear and my shoulder, I stand up to stretch my back and rearrange some client folders behind my desk. It’s been six months since I signed a book deal with Smith and Collins publishers, and honestly? Things aren’t going great. But there’s no way in hell I’m letting my agent know that.
“That’s all well and good, Case, but your final deadline is in thirty days. Sure you’ll have a finished manuscript by then?”
Fuck. Thirty days? When did that happen?
“Listen, I’ve been an escort for eight years now. You don’t get a mile-long waiting list by having no clue what you’re doing in the sack. Every man who reads this book will be a fucking sexpert in no time.”
“That’s what they’re paying you for, champ. As long as you deliver.”
My stomach churns. If I don’t figure something out soon, I’ll be completely fucked. I already used the advance they gave me for a down payment on a home for my mother. And more than anything else on the table right now, I can’t let that deal fall through.
“I’ll buckle down and get it done, okay? I promise. Look, I have a lot of paperwork to process, but I’ll talk to you later.” I hang up, dropping back into my chair and dragging a hand over the scruff on my face.
You want to know the truth? Thirty days until the deadline, and I got nothing. Nada.
When I signed up to write a book on sex, I thought it would be a piece of cake. And in some ways, it is. I know exactly what I want to say. It’s just the whole putting-words-on-a-page thing that’s holding me back. Which I realize is kind of the entire fucking point.
My computer dings with a new email, reminding me that I still have a business to run. The email is from another woman hoping to schedule a date, plus a little extra after dessert. She requests me by name—a friend of hers gave her a referral—which only makes the knot forming in my stomach tighten.
I know my line of work is a little out of the ordinary. I’m aware that most guys my age are busting their asses for the man, and that I’ve got it pretty fucking good. It’s not exactly a hardship to fuck beautiful women for a living. Unless the one thing you’ve always been able to rely on suddenly goes out of commission.