Turning the Tables Read online

  How dare he? “What the fuck is your problem?” Hank demanded. “I’m not paying you to talk. I’m paying you to get on your knees and suck my dick. Got it?”

  He waited for the guy to quail and drop to his knees, but Avery remained standing. Rather than fear or irritation, Hank saw only gentle compassion in the man’s eyes, or was it pity? Hank bristled. This rent boy had the audacity to pity Henry Winston Seeley III? Who the fuck did he think he was? Hank’s face heated with anger, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

  “Hey,” Avery said in a maddeningly gentle tone, daring to place his huge hand on Hank’s arm, “I’m really sorry if I offended you. I know it’s rough when you’re alone. I understand that. Even with all this.” He waved his hand around Hank’s large, elegantly decorated living room. “The old adage is true, huh? Money can’t buy happiness. I’d venture to guess you’re one very unhappy man.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Hank shouted. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Is this how you treat all your customers? What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You’re not my customer, Hank.”

  “What?” Hank spluttered indignantly. “You work for Gentleman’s Elite. You’re here because they sent you. For this hour, I own your ass.”

  Avery pursed his lips thoughtfully and then slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Hank. This isn’t going to work out. Have a good night.” He turned back toward the front hall.

  Fury warred with incredulity. “Where the hell do you think you’re going? I paid for this hour. You’re a fucking hooker. This is what you do. You can’t just walk away.”

  Still unruffled, Avery replied calmly, “I prefer the term sex worker. And yes, while I offer sexual services in exchange for money, I have preferences and standards. Common civility is one of those standards. I will not be treated as less than, simply to satisfy your insecurities. To put it another way, I won’t allow someone to stand on my neck so they can feel a little taller. No amount of money is worth that. So. It was…interesting to meet you. I’ll be on my way now.”

  “Wait,” Hank cried, confusing himself. Hadn’t he wanted this guy to leave a moment before? But, no. He would go when Hank dismissed him, and not a moment before. And, in spite of himself, Hank was intrigued.

  Avery was nothing like the boy toys Hank purchased on a regular basis. He was so calm. So peaceful. How could a base whore—oh wait, excuse me—a sex worker, act so high and mighty, as if he had the key to the fucking universe?

  If nothing else, Hank was terribly curious. And he hadn’t been curious about anything in a very long time. He found himself saying, “Look, I’ve—I’ve had a rough few months. Please stay. Would you, um, would you like a drink or something?”

  Avery regarded him silently, as if weighing his decision before replying.

  “Please,” Hank tried again, suddenly desperate for Avery to stay. “Can we maybe start over?”

  Avery tilted his head, those green eyes penetrating Hank’s soul. Hank had to resist the urge to squirm under the man’s calm but relentless scrutiny. Finally, Avery nodded. He stuck out his hand, and Hank grabbed it as if it were a lifeline.

  Avery’s handshake was firm and warm. “Sure. I’ll stay. I believe in second chances.”

  ~*~

  He hadn’t been kidding. Avery had been perfectly ready to walk away from this client, despite the double pay he’d been promised by Elite. Word had got around that Hank Seeley was a total asshole who routinely worked the boys over and scared half of them to death. He’d certainly lived up, or down, to his reputation in the first few minutes of their conversation.

  But that sudden plea to stay, and the stark, lonely pain in those dark, brooding eyes had given Avery pause. It didn’t hurt that Hank was an extremely good-looking guy, with thick, dark hair, fine bones and a compact but muscular body. He was dressed simply in a pearl-gray cashmere sweater and jeans, his feet shod in elegant leather loafers without socks. Along with the arrogance and the pain, there was an edgy power to the man, as if he were always coiled and ready to strike.

  What would it be like to harness the power he sensed in Hank? To claim it?

  Hank made a beeline toward a well-equipped bar set along one wall. The guy obviously had buckets of money, not that Avery had ever cared about that sort of thing. He’d had to wait at a gate at the front of Hank’s swanky neighborhood to be let in by a uniformed guard while he’d been cleared as a guest of one of the residents. Though it was dark out, the wide, tree-lined street was well-lit, the houses set far back from the road behind huge hedges or tall walls.

  Hank seemed awfully young to have such a large house in such a fancy neighborhood. He couldn’t be more than thirty at the most. Avery wondered what he did for a living.

  The spacious living room in which they now stood looked like something out of Architectural Digest, with its soaring ceilings, white leather furniture, original artwork and the huge picture windows that no doubt provided glorious mountain views during daylight hours. “Nice place you have,” Avery commented sincerely.

  “Thanks. What can I get you to drink?”

  Avery shrugged. “Whatever you’re having is fine. I’m easy.”

  “Obviously,” Hank smirked.

  The guy was too much. Amused, Avery fixed him with a steady gaze until Hank, like the teenager he apparently still was inside, looked sheepishly away.

  “I have an excellent cabernet,” Hank said, busying himself behind the bar. “A Far Niente. Or if you prefer white, how about a pinot blanc? I have several bottles of Ca’ del Bosco left.”

  Avery smiled. The guy was trying a little too hard to impress. Still, to Hank’s credit, those were both excellent vineyards, if overpriced. “The Ca’ del Bosco would be great. Thanks.”

  Hank pulled a bottle from what must have been a small refrigerator under the counter, along with two crystal wine glasses. He popped the cork and poured. Coming around the bar, he gestured toward one of the groupings of sofas and chairs. “Have a seat.”

  Avery sat on one side of a large loveseat. Hank approached with both glasses and the bottle of wine balanced in his hands. He sat beside Avery and handed him a glass. Avery took a sip. It was very good—crisp and refreshing. “It’s delicious,” he said, smiling at Hank, hoping to put the obviously nervous young man more at his ease. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hank replied. That was good. He seemed to be calming down. Avery sensed so much anger in this guy. He wondered what his story was—what had happened to make him so apparently miserable?

  Hank drained his glass and poured himself another. This one, too, he drank as if it were water, in one, long gulp. Courage in a bottle? He set his empty glass down rather too hard on the glass-topped table in front of them. “Let’s go upstairs. Can we go upstairs, please?”

  Hank had said please, which was an excellent first step, but not enough to warrant Avery’s participation in anything more than polite conversation. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t think so.”

  Hank frowned. “What do you mean? I paid for this hour. I want to go upstairs and have sex with you. It’s time you put your mouth where my money is,” he added with a smirk.

  “If we go upstairs,” Avery replied evenly, “I’ll be the one calling the shots. If that works for you, I’ll be happy to comply. Otherwise…” He lifted his glass and took another sip of the very fine wine, leaving the sentence incomplete.

  Jacob, who coordinated the sex workers at Elite, had told Avery beforehand that Hank was a very difficult customer. They were considering revoking his membership because he was abusive to some of the staff, but they hated to lose the lucrative business. “You don’t have to put up with any of his shit,” Jacob had advised Avery. “I thought of you because you handle yourself well and you can hold your own. If you can tolerate his behavior, I’ll pay you double the usual cut, plus any tips, obviously, are yours to keep. He’s an excellent tipper, but trust me, you’ll earn it.”

  Avery had seen guys like Hank before. E
ntitled, angry rich men who used their wealth and position to hide the lost, scared boys they were inside. Along with Hank’s arrogance and swagger, Avery had glimpsed some very real pain and suffering in those dark eyes. Though he knew it would infuriate a guy like Hank to know he actually felt sorry for him. Now, he waited calmly for Hank’s decision.

  Hank stared back at him, no doubt unused to what must be a very strange turn of events for him. Avery was fully prepared to be dismissed. He didn’t want to leave Hank alone to no doubt finish that bottle before going on to something stronger, but nor would he subject himself to Hank’s abuse.

  “What do you mean, the one in charge?” Hank finally said. “I’m the one in charge.”

  “Not if we go upstairs,” Avery said placidly. “Not for this one hour. I’d like to show you a different way.”

  “Turning the tables, huh?” Hank regarded him for a long moment, a slow, rather sexy smile lifting his lips. “It might be fun. Just for a change.” He nodded to himself, as if carrying on a silent conversation. “Okay.” He got to his feet. “What the hell? You’re not my usual type, so why not go with the whole bizarre fucking setup? Let’s go.”

  Instead of returning to the front hall and the large, curving staircase Avery had seen, Hank went through an open door just off the bar. Avery followed, entering what looked like a game room, complete with a huge pool table and a wall of old video arcade machines circa 1985.

  Hank led him up a back stairway to the second floor. They walked past several bedrooms, finally entering a room that looked at first glance like a workout space, with a home gym and a stationary bike. But there were also two state-of-the-art BDSM pieces—a suspension rack and a spanking bench. Avery’s cock instantly perked to attention. He would enjoy giving Hank a good, hard spanking. There was no question that the guy desperately needed one.

  Hank took a seat in one of two oversized chairs set beneath a large window. He leaned back and did a typical man spread, legs wide, arms extended over the back of the chair. “I think a blowjob is in order to get me in the proper mood. Do a good job and maybe I’ll tip you.”

  Avery chuckled. The guy wouldn’t give it a rest. He’d have to call his bluff. “I think you’re a little confused, Hank. I’m not one of your boy toys. I don’t respond well to orders.” He walked instead to the adjacent chair and took his own seat.

  He fixed Hank with a penetrating gaze. “I want you to get up and come stand in front of me,” he said softly. He held his breath, waiting to see if Hank would obey. He was almost certain that he wanted to, but was afraid. He could sense the submissive lurking beneath Hank’s dominant bravado.

  To his delight, after a long moment, Hank rose from the chair and stood uncertainly in front of him.

  “Closer,” Avery said gently, reaching out to the skittish but clearly curious younger man.

  Hank accepted his hand, allowing himself to be pulled closer until he was standing between Avery’s legs.

  “Very good,” Avery said encouragingly, smiling up at the handsome, nervous guy in front of him. He was glad he hadn’t given up on him. “Unzip your jeans and take them off. You can leave on your underwear, for now.”

  Emotions warred over Hank’s face. He was so easy to read. He was wildly curious, achingly lonely and completely thrown off his game by having someone stand up to his bullying. This was the crucial moment of decision. Either he would remove his pants as directed, or he would put his mask back in place and haughtily inform Avery he could go fuck himself.

  Avery waited, surprised at how much he wanted Hank to take that next step. He was even more surprised at how much he already cared for this strange, lonely boy.

  He allowed himself a smile when Hank unzipped his fly. He watched with pleasure and anticipation as Hank kicked off his fancy leather loafers and then dragged his jeans down shapely, muscular legs. His cock, Avery was pleased to note, was rising nicely in his black silk underwear.

  Avery leaned closer and placed his hands lightly on Hank’s narrow hips. Drawing him closer, he rested his cheek against Hank’s groin. He rubbed his jaw against Hank’s growing erection as he moved his hands over Hank’s small, muscular ass. When Hank was fully erect, Avery let him go and sat back in his chair.

  “Go on. Get naked,” he instructed.

  Hank swallowed visibly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes fixed on Avery’s face, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled the bikini briefs down his legs, kicking them aside. His cock was straight and thick, the balls smooth and heavy beneath it.

  “Sweater, too,” Avery commanded gently. “I want to see you.”

  Hank’s mouth worked as if he were about to protest, but he said nothing. He pulled his cashmere sweater over his head and tossed it aside, revealing a broad, smooth chest and six-pack abs. The boy was absolutely beautiful. Such a shame, Avery thought—all that beauty and wealth, and he’s still fucking miserable.

  Maybe I can help him just a little, just for tonight.

  Avery let his eyes move slowly over that nice body until he got to Hank’s face. He would give the guy his money’s worth, if nothing else. He licked his lips. “I’m going to make you come using my hands and mouth, but there are a few rules. First one is you will put your hands behind your head and keep them there, no matter what I do. Do you think you can do that?”

  “What the hell?” Hank spluttered, no doubt still struggling with not being the one in control.

  Avery got to his feet and stood over him. “Do you need me to show you?” Without waiting for permission, he reached for Hank’s wrists and gently but firmly lifted them, placing Hank’s hands against the back of his neck. “Like this. It’s really very simple.”

  Holding Hank’s hands in place with one of his own, he leaned down and brushed his lips over the pulse at Hank’s throat. Hank’s heart was beating fast. He was out of his depth but clearly aroused. Letting go of Hank’s wrists, Avery lowered his head to put his mouth over Hank’s left nipple. He licked the smooth, clean skin and then nudged the small nubbin with his teeth, catching it in a light, teasing bite.

  To his delight, he heard Hank’s approving moan. Encouraged, he moved his mouth, butterfly soft, down Hank’s smooth abs, crouching until his face was level with Hank’s erect, bobbing cock.

  He licked lightly around the crown, drawing his tongue over the slit as he reached around behind Hank to cup his ass. Hank groaned and thrust himself forward, pushing his cock into Avery’s mouth.

  Avery pulled back and looked up at him. “Rule number two. You will not thrust yourself at me or try to control this in any way. You will let me set the pace.”

  Hank scowled. “No way. My house, my dime.”

  Avery cupped Hank’s balls and squeezed just enough to get his attention. “And my rules. If you don’t agree, I won’t stay.” He eased his grip, adding gently, “Trust me for just a little while, okay? For once, don’t call the shots. Let me guide you. Experience what I offer. Let yourself feel something new. I promise, I’ll give you want you need.” He gripped Hank’s shaft and drew his thumb over the sensitive head as he gazed earnestly into Hank’s dark eyes. He was pleased to note Hank kept his hands locked obediently behind his head.

  “Do we have a deal?” Avery asked, still ready to walk away if need be.

  Hank stared down at him, his lips parting as Avery continued to stroke his hot, hard shaft. “Yes,” he finally whispered. “Yes, please.”

  Chapter 3

  Hank couldn’t believe he was actually submitting to this guy—to this hired boy toy. But he’s more than that, a calm, quiet voice he wasn’t used to hearing whispered in his head. And he’s right. You need this.

  Avery’s mouth closed over his shaft again, this time taking Hank all the way into his throat. Hank groaned with pleasure and reached for Avery’s head to hold him in place.

  Avery pulled back at once, letting Hank’s shaft fall from his mouth. “Hands back in position,” he growled. “Now.”

  Hank’s eyes flew op
en and he glared down at the big man. Avery stared back at him, lifting one eyebrow as he silently dared Hank to refuse. Hank’s mouth had already opened to do just that—to demand who the hell this guy thought he was talking to, but as they locked eyes, the words died in his throat. He found himself putting his hands back behind his head. His heart was beating crazy fast, his cock and balls aching with lust. What the hell was going on? Was he losing his mind?

  All thoughts tumbled out of his brain as Avery’s lips again closed over his cock. He licked and suckled his way along Hank’s shaft with his hot, wet mouth. At the same time, he cupped Hank’s balls, his finger extending back to tease Hank’s asshole.

  “Yeah,” Hank groaned, electrified. Whatever else he was, this guy sure knew his business. Hank thrust forward to force himself deeper into Avery’s throat.

  Again, Avery suddenly pulled away, letting Hank’s shaft fall from his lips.

  “What the fuck?” Hank demanded, frustrated. “My hands are still in position. Do your job, damn it.”

  “You forgot rule number two. You aren’t very good at following directions, Hank. I think a punishment is in order before we continue.”

  Hank barked a nervous laugh and took an involuntary step back. “Uh…no,” he said with exaggerated slowness, letting the words drip with disdain. “I dole out the punishments. I don’t submit to them.”

  “That’s a big part of your problem,” Avery replied unflappably. “You’re in desperate need of punishment—the good kind. I think a spanking might do the trick very nicely. And then, if you take it like a good boy, I’ll continue with what I’m doing here.”

  Hank took another step back. “Are you out of your mind? Nobody spanks Henry Winston Seeley III. Now get back here and do what you’ve been paid to do.” He pointed toward the carpet.

  Avery shook his head and sighed softly. He lumbered to his feet. “I’m sorry, Hank. This isn’t going to work. Don’t worry, there will be no charge from Elite.”

  “Wait! What? What are you doing? You can’t leave. I’m not done with you.”