“Lovemaking was fine and good, and someday, when a man came along with whom I connected enough for that to happen, fine. For now? I craved sheet-mangling, shoulder-clawing, headboard-pounding fucking.”
“Just remember one thing: regardless of how anyone chooses to define what I do for a living, I'm not selling what I'm giving you. If this isn't something you can handle, I'll understand, but I swear to you. I've never given this to anyone. I wouldn't dream of selling it, even if I could.”
“I'll give you some credit," he said with a sneer. "You don’t look like a prostitute.”Austin shrugged. “I don’t usually wear the fishnets and garish makeup on my day off.”
“There’s sex, and there’s…this.” He met my eyes. “Just being with someone like this. This isn’t something that can be bought or sold, and I couldn’t manufacture it for someone no matter how much they tried to pay me for it.” He ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “That’s why I’m here tonight. Because I needed this. And here, with you, is the only place I can get it.” He swallowed hard. “Or give it.”
“My silence was not a lack of passion, but an inability to even draw a breath.”
“Yeah, I had everything. Which was, of course, why I now reclined on a rented, rock-hard, queen-size bed, waiting for a male prostitute to show up.”