If It Fornicates (Market Garden, #4)(41)

Spencer squeezed his hands and smiled at him. So much heartbreaking f*cking tenderness in that expression, it clogged up Nick’s throat. And Spencer didn’t interrupt him, just listened.

“You know. It’s just so.” Squeezing all those meanings into one tiny word.

“Nick.” Spencer kissed his hands. “You know I love you. And I can’t stand seeing you this miserable. Are you sure this”—he gestured at himself, then Nick—“is something you can still do?” He raised his eyebrows. “I mean, continue with?”

“What? Yes!” Nick’s pulse jumped. “Of course. I . . .”

“But you’re unhappy.”

Nick blew out a frustrated breath. “Okay, I am. But it’s . . .”

“Your job, or . . . this?”

“This is good,” he said quickly. “It’s great. Of course I want to keep going.”

“I know you want to,” Spencer said. “But can you?”

Nick met Spencer’s gaze. Did Spencer really think Nick would sacrifice him for his job again? Sex with people whose names he cared nothing about? Walk out on him again for cash? Funny, he’d always thought this kind of shit would surface when he ended up in a relationship—that somebody would insist he quit, an ultimatum thrown out in a game of emotional blackmail. He’d often thought about it and decided that nobody would control him like that. There would be no negotiations about how he paid his way and put food on his table. He was a rentboy, and anyone who felt the need to question his choice of employment could show themselves to the door.

He’d just never have anticipated that it would be him who’d question it first.

Spencer squeezed his hands again. “Look, it’s early. I need to get to the office, and you need sleep.” His eyebrow arched slightly, as if warning Nick not to argue with him about that last bit. “Do you think we can talk about it this evening? After we’ve both had a chance to give it some thought? Then we can make an informed decision. Together.”

Nick nodded, gut churning with nerves. “Okay. We’ll talk this evening.”

He let Spencer slip away and listened while he showered and got dressed. Spencer was right; it was too early to try to hash this out. The only time Nick was ever up at five in the f*cking morning was if he was still up.

Spencer came out of the bedroom in his suit and with an old-fashioned leather briefcase under one arm. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

“Yeah. Just text me.” Nick nodded towards the front door. “I’ll leave with you. See if I can grab a couple more hours of sleep at home.”

“Sounds good.” Spencer kissed him before he opened the door and let them both out.

They went their separate ways, and when Nick shuffled through his own front door, fatigue was catching up to him. His limbs were heavy, his eyes scratchy. Sleep was even more appealing now than it had been when he’d been lying next to Spencer. And no wonder. It was after six in the morning.

He stripped down and grabbed a quick shower. Funny how the hot water highlighted all the stiffness in his neck and shoulders, but didn’t bother to relieve it for him. Maybe he’d have to get a massage from Spencer this evening. Those incredible hands always seemed to help.

Except that was part of the problem. Spencer was amazing. He was submissive, he listened, he massaged, he cooked, he did everything Nick could ever ask of a boyfriend, and that was making Nick’s life hell.

He towelled off and then got into bed. The warm water, not to mention the early hour, had made him even more tired, and by all rights, he should have fallen asleep immediately.

But of course, he didn’t. He was physically and mentally exhausted, he was warm and comfortable, and now he was f*cking wide awake.

He’d spent every night with Spencer since the last time he’d worked a full night at Market Garden, which meant this was the first time he’d slept here—tried to sleep here—since he’d brought Spencer into his flat. Into this bed. Into him, for that matter.

Closing his eyes didn’t bring him any closer to drifting off, it just brought the other night back to the forefront of his mind. Hadn’t they come here to negotiate chastity play and look at some toys? And yet somehow they’d ended up naked in bed with Nick coming unglued with Spencer’s cock inside him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and let out a sharp breath.

What the hell was happening to him? Okay, so he’d finally admitted to himself he was in love with Spencer. And maybe that explained why he couldn’t mesh with the Market Garden scene anymore when being a Dom-for-hire had been so easy for him in the past.

But his own flat was different. Spencer’s presence was still here, still charging the air with a current that teased the hairs on the back of Nick’s neck. His bed was no longer the place he came to sleep off a long night. It was the place where That Had Happened.

He didn’t regret it. Not letting Spencer f*ck him, not letting himself fall in love with Spencer. He just had no idea what to do with the aftermath. Then again, he wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping here if he quit Market Garden, because he wouldn’t be able to pay for the damn place anymore. And if he did quit, then what? Take a job at Tesco? Let customers bully him and figuratively f*ck him up the arse?

It’s making me f*cking miserable.

Your job or . . . this?