Disclaimer: S. Myer owns all, but what I wouldn't give for a Jasper of my very own-sigh.

A/N-Warning: This chapter contains a graphic rape scene in the very beginning, if this content bothers you, please skip the part in italics. While you can understand the chapter without reading it, it is a pivotal reason as to why Jasper is the way he is, so if you can handle it, I recommend reading it.

Also, there have been some changes to the timeline and other details from the one-shot, as when that was written, we had never intended it to be a full length story, so in order to make things fit, details and timelines needed to be changed.

As of right now, all Jpov chapters will be written by me, and Epov will be expertly handled by Dannie (Domward's Mistress). All chapters will be posted on both of our profiles.

Huge thanks to Christie for her very quick turn around on this chapter. Also thanks to Jolene509 and her eagle eyes!

Pay no attention to man behind the curtain…



The pungent scent of the musty pillow suffocated me as I felt the large hand on the back of my head pushing my face deeper into the thin pillow. I shivered when I felt the ice cold fingers skim my waist as they grabbed the elastic of my pajama bottoms and yanked them down over my ass. I began to struggle, but the weight of the heavy body on top of mine was too much for my thin, awkward fourteen year old body. Shoving my shirt up, he exposed my back to him and he laid his bare chest against me, rubbing up and down me. I felt so fucking dirty. His breath reeked of garlic from that night's dinner and I gagged when it washed over my cheek as he grunted. The sweaty and musky scent of sex was thick in the air.

As I felt him pull his own pajamas down, freeing his large erection, I lay still under him. It was better to not fight. When I squirmed under him, he lasted longer, enjoying the sensation of my body moving under his. If I just lay there unmoving, he came quickly and returned to his own bed. I wasn't going to give him the pleasure of feeling me struggle.

Even though I tried to keep them together, he roughly pushed my legs apart with his knees, using his feet to shove my pajama bottoms all the way off. I never wore briefs to bed, we were only allowed a limited number of pairs and in order to keep them as clean as possible, I avoided wearing them at night. The idea of wearing them the next day with some other kid's cum stains all over them made me sick.

Once he had access to my ass, he pushed his hard cock between my legs in search of my entrance. He rested his chin on my shoulder, one of his hands tightly holding both of my wrists above my head while the other was around my neck restricting what breaths I could take.

Grunting, I felt the burning as he roughly entered me, stretching me as his cock forced its way into my unwilling body. Limply, I lay under him as he whispered dirty words to me, telling me how tight I was, how he loved to fuck me, how he loved to come inside my little bitch-boy ass. My breathing was shallow as I fought to hold my breath to avoid the stench of his body odor. He took my gasps as arousal, and pushed me harder into the mattress as I repeatedly felt his balls slap against me.

Clenching my eyes closed, I disengaged my mind from my body. Even as I felt him pulse inside me with each thrust, I imagined the coast of Texas where I had been born and raised. I saw the sandy beaches and cresting waves with the sun reflecting off the blue-green water. The beaches of Texas were a far cry from the large industrial gray room with rows of beds just like the one that I was being fucked in. Around me, I could hear snoring, wheezing from other teenage boys as they brought themselves to climax with their own hands, and the squeaking of the iron bed frames as other boys were taken against their will.

At least I wasn't alone.

The room was nothing but a breeding ground for future inmates, drug users, and hookers.

Vaguely, I wondered which one of them I was going to become.

If I lived long enough to make it out when I hit eighteen.

When he groaned, I knew he was close.

His wet tongue licked my ear and he released my neck, putting his hand on my shoulder for leverage to slam into me harder. I felt his nails digging into my flesh. It didn't matter if he left marks, it didn't matter if anyone saw the marks. I had already been branded as his bitch, and was off limits to the other boys. Admittedly, it was better to be just one boy's bitch than many. I felt bad for those laying in the beds around me that were being assaulted by more than one. Each took their turns fucking the boy while the others stood around and watched, their hands stroking their cocks while they waited for their turn to fuck the tight young ass.

At least I had been spared that. My blue eyes and blond waves apparently attracted the oldest boy, and he declared me within a week after my arrival. At first, I had been relieved to have a friend. Little did I know what kind of friendship he had in mind.

The first time he had fucked me, I had been twelve.

I couldn't walk the next day. A Home teacher had found me in my bed crying the next morning with small spots of blood in the sheets. Hobbling to the nurse, I was too embarrassed to tell her what had really happened.

It was soon after that I realized it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Underfunded and understaffed, they were aware of little that went on within their dark walls at night. It was a fate that the boys suffered alone. After the long nights of screams and grunts, you could spot the victims the next day, walking stiffly, fresh bruises on their body and a hollow, distant look in their eyes as they went through their day in a numb state of mind.

With a husky "fuck, I'm coming," I felt him explode inside me. Cringing at the thought of yet another part of him in me, I was relieved when he let go of my wrists, only to put his lips on my shoulder, letting his saliva drip from his mouth and onto my skin. "Such a good fuck," he praised me before biting down hard, embedding his teeth into my skin. Softening inside me, he slipped out, his dick slick with his cum as he pushed off me.

Kneeling between my legs, he raked his nails down my back, leaving red marks in their wake, to my ass and spread my cheeks apart. He sat there and watched his cum seep from my hole down the pale skin of my thighs.

"Til next time, bitch," he murmured. An instant later, he was gone.

Reaching behind me, I pulled my sheet back up. I left my pants off, I was going to leak his orgasm more, and I didn't want to soil my pajamas. At least the linens were washed once a week. As I lay there, naked from the waist down, his fluid dripping from me, I refused to cry.

It was nothing new. Just another night in the Home. I knew he was satisfied for a few days, and my ass had three or four days to recover before I would be violated again.

My parents had brought me to church when I was young, teaching me about God, Heaven and the power of prayer.

I didn't pray.

I didn't believe in God.

And if there was a Hell, surely I was in it.

Listening to the sounds of other boys coming, and the muffled cries of those they raped, I finally fell asleep.

"Jasper, wake up," the voice was soothing, calm.

Not husky and vulgar.

I inhaled and smelled the clean scent of body wash and cologne.

Not body odor and bad breath.

Gasping, I bolted upright in the dark room, my heart racing as I glanced around and tried to figure out where the fuck I was. There were no rows of beds, no musty odor; instead there was a hand on my arm, gently rubbing it up and down.

"You okay?"

"Yes, sorry," I apologized automatically. Internally, I was upset with myself. I hadn't had a nightmare in about a year, and there I was having one when I was with a client. Not only did I let a weakness show, but it was about as unprofessional as one could be.

"Don't apologize," he whispered. "Come here," he requested, laying back down and pulling me with him. He lay on his back and placed my cheek on his chest, his fingers tangling in my hair. "Jesus, Jasper, you're shaking," he held me tighter.

"Sorry," I apologized again.

Sighing heavily, he kissed my forehead. "Want to talk about it?"

I shook my head no. Those were memories I wanted to long forget. "I've just been under some stress lately, and had a bad dream."

A bad dream I had lived.

Strong fingers under my chin tilted it up. "Tell me."

"About the dream?"

"No, the stress. Tell me what's going on."

I pulled my chin from his grip and placed my cheek back over his heart, letting its strong beat calm me. "I can't. It's not professional."

"Jasper," he chided." Don't give me that shit. You've had my dick in your ass countless times, and you trusted me enough to tie you up. I might pay to have you here, but I think we are beyond the need to keep it all professional, aren't we?"

I remained silent as I was considering telling him. There was only one person that knew my situation and I didn't trust him enough to even walk into my place without worrying he was going to steal something.

Peter was unlike anyone I had ever known. He was powerful, confident, well spoken and kind. He nudged me with his arm to pull me from my churning thoughts.


I lifted my head and looked him in the eye. "It's hard for me. I've never had anyone to confide in before. I've always had to keep things to myself. This is new to me…friendship."

Grinning at my last word, he pulled my face up to his and kissed me. "Friends…I like the sound of that."

Wiggling my eyebrows at him, I ran my hand down his chest, letting my fingers circle his nipple. "Friends with benefits," I joked.

Laughing, he grabbed my wrist. "You're good, Jasper. But I'm better, I know you are trying to distract me and it won't work. Tell me."

He was right of course, when in doubt, I brought everything back to sex. It was the language I spoke best.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and blurted it out before I could stop myself. "I owe someone some money."


I shook my head. "It doesn't matter." I had been with him enough to know the sigh he released was not one of satisfaction but rather of frustration. Without further prompting from him, I continued. "His name is James. He's a pimp, and he says I owe him ten thousand in missed wages that he isn't getting because I left."

Ashamed, I lowered my eyes and looked away, just waiting for him to kick me out of the bed. He had a good reason to; I had just told him I had worked the streets. Pushing off him, his silence hurting more than I had expected, I sat up and I turned away from him, bringing my knees up to my chest. Berating myself for already fucking up the one friendship I had ever known, I bit my lip and wondered if he would tell Tanya that I had told him.

Perhaps James wouldn't have to worry about those missed wages after all.

I jumped when I felt his hand on my back. His large palm was warm as he ran it up and down the corded muscles.

"Has he threatened you?"

With a lump in my throat, I shook my head. "Not yet."

But I knew it was only a matter of time.

I felt the bed shift as he sat up behind me, resting his chin on my shoulder. It was not the reaction I had been expecting. Every muscle in my body that had been ready for flight mode began to relax slightly under his tranquil touch.

"Have you paid him anything?"

"No, I have about two thousand saved up, but he keeps adding interest. It's probably fucking twelve thousand by now. Even if I had it, I know as soon as paid him, he would come up with something else. He's not exactly an honest businessman like you."

He chuckled.

Turning my head, I glanced at him. "It doesn't bother you that I worked the streets?"

"Should it?"

"It's not exactly an honorable profession," I said, picking at the bedspread around my legs. If he only knew some of the shit I had seen, that I had done. There was no way he would be sitting in the same bed with me, much less the same room.

Shrugging, he forced me to turn and straddle him, and pulling my legs up and over his, he cupped my face. "You did what you had to do to survive, you didn't give up. That, Jasper, is very honorable."

Blushing I looked away. I was far from honorable. "You're not afraid?"

Confidently, he stared at me. "Not at all. You and I are always safe and I know Tanya has all her employees tested bi-monthly. It's one of the reasons I use her service." He kissed me softly before pulling back. "Promise me something?"

Dropping my chin to my chest, I looked up at him through the hair framing my face, fearing what he wanted, but I agreed.

"Keep me updated, and…" he paused, forcing me to look at him again. "You'll ask for my help if you need it."

Not only had he called himself my friend, but he was now offering help, both so foreign to me, I felt butterflies in my stomach from nervousness as I treaded the waters of unknown territory.

"I will," I agreed. Smiling, he let his hand drop to my thigh before I felt it between my legs on my cock.

Leaning forward, he whispered, "Since we're both up…."


I was exhausted. Peter always fucking wore me out, and it usually took me a full day to recover. And that time I wasn't just physically spent, I was emotionally drained as well. I hadn't planned on telling him anything but after waking up screaming in a cold sweat, he had encouraged me to tell him what was going on. I had been ashamed and nervous. Telling someone that was paying an enormous amount of money to fuck you that you had worked the streets where disease and drugs were rampant was not a good idea. If there was a way to guarantee not being requested again, that was it.

And yet, I had still done it.

I had realized in the shower after our middle- of-the-night-fuck that I should have kept quiet, but there was something about Peter that allowed me to be myself with him. It was an odd sensation, but I enjoyed the warmth that spread through my body when he had referred to us as friends.

I had been honest. I hadn't really ever had a friend before. There was only one person on the streets that I might have considered a friend, and I didn't even like him.

Peter had been scheduled for the next night, but he had to schedule a last minute business trip and had changed our 'date' to Friday night. My Saturday night didn't remain free for long, as Tanya called with a new client only a few minutes after I had left Peter.

Well, new to me anyway. Apparently he had requested me.

My reputation was beginning to proceed me.

Checking my watch, I realized I had less than eight hours before I had to be with the new client.

Edward Cullen.

The name rang a faint bell, but I couldn't place where I knew it from. As the doors opened, I stepped off the elevator and turned down the hall to my apartment. Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out my Blackberry and checked new messages as I walked. When I lifted my head, I saw him.

My so-called friend.

Slumped against my door, his chin on his chest, his legs spread out before him as he leaned sleeping against my door. I could smell him from twenty feet away. He had changed his clothes since the last time I had seen him, the holes in his jeans exposing his bony knees, his tattered sweatshirt was shredding at the cuffs and waistband and I could see the soles falling off his sneakers.

How he ever got a john to pay for him was beyond my understanding. How could anyone put up with his stench?

As I neared, I took shallow breaths so as not to breathe in his odor.

Standing in front of him, I tapped his shin with my foot. "What the fuck are you doing here, asshole?"

His head shot up and he opened his eyes, quickly wide with fear. It was a habit we all learned from living on the streets, when you slept you never knew if you were going to wake up again, and if you did, it was usually suddenly and not under the best of circumstances. He scrambled to his feet, stretching as he stood up, his shirt lifting to divulge the dirt scattered along his stomach. Quickly, I looked down the hallway to be sure we were alone.

"I came to see you," he yawned.

"No shit, really?" I pushed him aside and unlocked my door.

"Where have you been all night?" he asked, watching me a bit too close for comfort. "And what's with the suit?"

I spun around. "You've been here all fucking night?"

Fucking great. What the fuck were the neighbors going to think about some homeless kid sleeping in their hallway all night? This was probably enough reason to get my ass kicked out of the building.

"Relax. I got here about five this morning." He shook his head with disgust. Apparently, my worried state had been obvious.


"I had to see you," he admitted. Running a hand through his greasy hair, he looked up at me through the long, stringy pieces that fell over his eyes. No matter what condition he was in or how bad he smelled, he had beautiful amber eyes. Johns loved his full lips around their dicks as he looked up at them with those big brown eyes. I swear his eyes were the reason he got as much business as he did.

It certainly wasn't his odor.

Sighing, I pushed the door all the way open and motioned. "Fine, come in." His face perked up and he almost smiled. As he brushed by me, his chest bumping mine, his pungent scent made me gag. "But you're taking a fucking shower. You reek."

I closed the door, sliding the locks as he turned to face me. "Ummm, okay but I don't have any other clothes."

"You can borrow mine," I didn't even think twice about offering. I would have done just about anything to get the stink out of my place.

Pulling his sweatshirt off over his head, he laughed, "No offense, but that shit isn't me." The sweatshirt landed on the floor, closely followed by his tee shirt. Bare-chested, he began to unbutton his pants.

"Fuck off," I retorted, hanging my jacket over the back of the chair. "And the bathroom is over there." I pointed down the hall. Stripping as he walked down the hall, he left pieces of clothing on my floor as he went. "Oh, Riley?" Completely naked, he turned to me.


"Don't even think about fucking stealing anything, or I will fuck you up," I warned.

I heard him chuckle as he closed the door. Mentally, I ran through a checklist of the items in my bathroom, not only what he could possible take, but what he could use as weapons as well.

Following his trail of clothes, I picked them up and went to the washer, holding them as far away from me as possible. When I went to toss in his jeans, I felt something hard in a pocket. Hesitantly, I stuck my hand in and grabbed it. I knew what it was before I even pulled it out.

In my palm sat three tiny squares of hard white rocks.

With a heavy sigh, I sat the pieces on the dryer while I finished putting the laundry in. I picked up the drugs, went to my kitchen sink and put the pieces in the sink before I crushed them and ran the water, washing the white dust down the drain.

After pulling out a few burgers, I tossed them in the pan, flipping them as they cooked. While the burgers finished, I grabbed some leftover potato salad and put it on the table. I heard the shower turn off and went to my room to grab him some clothes.

"Here are some clothes," I said as I knocked on the bathroom door. He opened it wide, and standing there naked, he reached for the clothes.

"Thanks, man." He turned to dress but left he door wide open. I briefly admired his ass before turning back to the kitchen. I finished the burgers and fixed a plate for him.

"Fuck, that smells good," he inhaled as he walked into the room. His dark hair was wet, hanging in his face a bit, but he smelled of body wash and aftershave.

"Have a seat," I put the plate in front of him as he sat down. With wide eyes, he lifted the burger and took a bit. I swear his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Holy shit, this is fucking good," he moaned around his food.

Smiling, I was a bit proud of myself. He was my first official guest I had cooked for.

"I didn't know you know how to do this shit," he mumbled around a mouthful.

"It's not rocket science, it's just cooking, Rile." I took a bite, and had to agree, it tasted good. I was hungrier than I had thought, the night before had worked up my appetite. Shrugging, he stopped talking and ate like it was his last meal. "When's the last time you ate?"

Furrowing his brows, he thought for a minute. "Yesterday," he lied.


"Fine. About four days ago," he whispered before taking another huge bite. As he finished off the burger, I eyed him.

"Do you want more?"

He shook his head, "Nah, I'm good, thanks, man," he said as he pushed his plate away. "That was fucking delicious." As soon as I was finished, I put our dishes in the sink and offered him a beer. "Fuck yes, but no more of that imported shit."

I tossed his clothes in the dryer and we went into the living and sat on the couch. He sprawled out and took a sip of beer. It was bit unnerving to see him in my Varvatos tee shirt and True Religion jeans. He was wearing more money than he made in six months.

"So, what was so important that you felt the need to camp out on my doorstep for five hours?" I asked, putting my feet up on the table.

He looked over at me and bit his lip. "It's about Newton." I knew him, although not well, we had worked the same few blocks for a few months. There was a mutual respect between us, he seemed to keep to himself and stayed out of my way. The last time I had seen him was about a week before Tanya had approached me.

"What about him?" I asked, sipping my beer.

"He's in the hospital. He was found in a dumpster day before yesterday. He was pretty fucked up."

I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees. "Fucked up how?"

Sighing, he put his beer on the table and mirrored my pose. "Shit beat out of him, broken arm, broken ribs and…."

"And what?" I felt my heart begin to race in my chest.

"A few fingers were cut off. Three I think, right down to his hand." I raised my eyebrows. That was new. "Rumor is that it was James."

Involuntarily, I shivered. James was known for fucking people up, he had come close to killing a guy or two, but while he was the so-called brains behind the attacks, he never physically laid a hand on anyone, always having one of his addicts to do his dirty work for him, enticing them with free drugs if they completed their assigned tasks. Running my hands through my hair, I leaned back against the couch.

"Rile, did you tell him where I live?" I asked worriedly. He glanced away quickly, nervously avoiding my eyes. "What the fuck?"

"He was threatening me," he whispered. Staring at him, I tried to tell if he was lying or not. Lying was second nature for us both, and we were both good at it, but sitting there I had an inclination to actually believe him.

"I don't give a fuck," I practically yelled.

"Jasper," he sighed.

"Don't fucking 'Jasper' me. You're so far up his ass that you can't tell where he ends and you begin. Makes me sick."

Quickly, he stood up. "Fuck you. I'm not like you. I didn't have some slut play Gwenda the Good Witch-"


"To swoop in and take me off the streets and pay me to fuck people." He began pacing in front of me, his hands twitching as he got more worked up. "You're no better than me, asshole. You and your 'clients' are the same as me and my johns. Adding a fancy name doesn't make it any better."

There was nothing to say, he was totally fucking right. I was nothing more than a hooker, just like he was. I could dress up all I wanted, and pretend I wasn't selling my body for sex, but it was really as simple as that.

I got paid to get fucked.

The kind words Peter had offered me that morning had caught me off guard. I had never exposed myself to someone like that, and I was uncomfortable with the vulnerability. Physical vulnerability was one thing, but emotional…that was entirely different. He had told me not to be ashamed of who I was, or what I did for work. And fuck, I knew I was good, as if his compliments and physical reactions weren't enough, I had quickly become one of Tanya's most sought after escorts.

Riley sat back down next to me, his hands constantly running up and down his thighs. "You know what it's like out there, Jasper. It's life or death every day. Don't tell me you forgot that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then how can you be pissed when I need protection? I don't…." he closed his eyes and exhaled.


"I don't have you anymore. You used to look out for me, but not anymore. You're here in your fucking apartment pretending you're worth something in your Pruda suit."

"Prada," I corrected him without thinking, "and this is Armani, not Prada."

"Like I fucking care who the fuck it is. You know what I fucking mean," he raised his voice, his eyes growing a bit wild. I glanced around my living room, assessing the contents until my eyes fell on the silver letter opener on my desk.

"Why did he have him fucked up?" I asked calmly, hoping to sooth his disintegrating nerves.

Anxiously, he rubbed his face with his hands before he whispered, "he owed him money."

My head shot up. "How much?"

"A few grand, I think," he admitted.

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

He didn't answer. At least, not verbally, but I felt his hand on my thigh, squeezing it in an offer of support. Somehow, it actually relaxed me a bit, my heart gradually slowing as his hand lightly grazed up and down my leg. When I felt his fingers brush over my limp cock, I opened my eyes to see him leaning toward me. I didn't stop him as his lips met mine, his tongue tracing my bottom lip as he straddled my lap for better access.

Not only did I not stop him, but I tilted my head as his lips left mine and traveled over my unshaven jaw. It wasn't Peter, there was no powerful current that flowed between us that I could feel throughout my body. It was different. With Riley, it was a comfort, and oddly enough an aggressiveness that I was allowed to have with him. One I had taken advantage of on more than one occasion.

His breath was in my ear. "Remember how good it used to be?" he reminded me as his tongue licked my lobe before he sucked it into this mouth. Inhaling, I smelled the fresh scent of my body wash on him. The sweet smell of coconut wafted from his hair as he nuzzled my neck. He smelled so good compared to just a few hours before.

I never used to care what he smelled like, I had only cared about fucking him. I moaned when I felt his hand on the button of my pants, and flashes of us together hit me.

On the streets, you were the either the one getting fucked or doing the sucking. If a hooker got off while they were with a john, it was a miracle. And while most of them were so disgusting, I wouldn't even be able to get it up, it got sexually frustrating after awhile. All these people getting off with you, by you, and yet you walked away with nothing but a sore ass. There had to be an outlet, we all needed one. Some did drugs, some got angry, and I fucked.

Riley to be exact.

Whenever the need had grown too insistent to ignore, I would search for him, often finding him on the corner of University and First, even waiting for him to return from a john if necessary. Once he saw me, his eyes scanning my body, taking in my fidgeting hands and dark eyes, he knew why I was there, what I wanted.

He knew I wanted to fuck him…hard.

Nodding at him as he approached, I headed down an alley and waited against the side of a building for him. I watched as he checked in with James and handed over some money. James shoved the money in his pocket and pressed something into Riley's hand. Smiling, Riley looked both ways before popping it in his mouth. When he reached me, I smirked and pushed off the wall. Obediently, he unbuttoned his pants and pressed his palms against the brick. My breath quickened as I dug into my pocket and pulled out a condom. Quickly, I undid my jeans, pulled the flap open, and pushed the elastic of my briefs down over my erection. Stroking myself a few times, I watched him waiting for me. With his hands against the wall, his head hung and his ass jutting out invitingly toward me, he looked fucking amazing.

"Gonna fuck me or what?" he glanced at me over his shoulder. I rolled the condom on, stepped forward, and grabbed his pants. I yanked them down over his ass before I spanked it hard, leaving a red mark. "Fuck," he moaned as the sting hit him.

Gripping his hips, I pulled him to me and positioned myself at his entrance. He bent over, sticking his ass out, rubbing against me. "Please," he begged. Guiding my cock, I swiftly entered him, not waiting for him to adjust. Grunting in pain, he exhaled, "Jesus fucking…" he didn't finish as I pulled out and slammed back into him. As I entered his tight ass, I threw my head back, glancing down the alley in both directions quickly. Not that it mattered if anyone caught us, I wasn't fucking stopping even if an entire crowd was watching. Reaching up with one hand, I pulled his hands from the wall, and his body fell forward against the brick. With more leverage, I was able to rock my hips and penetrate him even deeper.

"Fuck," I groaned, my cock throbbing with need. My breath accelerated as my short thrusts continued with force. His cheek lay against the red brick, his eyes closed and brows furrowed as I pounded him. Reaching up, I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and forced his face against he wall. "Take it, bitch," I groaned in his ears.

With my other hand, I reached down and grabbed his cock, feeling it pulse in my hand, I stroked him a few times, my hand pressed between his body and the wall. When I released him, he moaned loudly in frustration. Harder, I pushed his body flush with the wall, the abrasive concrete scraping the flesh of his cock, giving him the friction he needed to come.

"Shit," he cried out as I felt his ass spasm around my length. I shoved him hard, my hand back on his neck keeping him still as I fucked him. A few thrusts later and I felt my balls tighten. Clenching my eyes, I slammed into him one last time before keeping myself there, deep in his ass as my cock erupted inside him, surrounded by his warmth.

It felt so fucking good.

With my forehead between his shoulder blades, I slowly caught my breath and pulled myself from him. Stripping the condom off, I threw it on the ground and shook the remainder of my cum from my cock before sticking it back into my pants.

Riley sighed, and turned around, his pants still down around his ass, his cock dripping with cum. His hand went to his cheek to rub the scrape there. I smiled when I saw the tiny drops of red blood on his hand.

"Fuck, man, if you want to keep doing this, you can't hurt the goods," he eyed me.

Buttoning up my pants, I glanced up at him. "Yeah, like people fucking care about your face, asshole."

He glared up at me. "Fuck you." I reached down and grabbed his limp, sensitive cock. "I'd say it was more like I fucked you." He hung his head back and let a small moan through his parted lips. Suddenly, I had the urge to lean down and kiss him. I had never really kissed much, I tried to avoid it as much as possible. But standing there staring at his full lips, I wanted nothing more than to feel them against mine.

Wrapping my hand around the back of his neck again, I fisted his hair and pulled him to me, learning down I pressed my lips to his. Gasping, he grabbed my shirt and returned the kiss with force, his tongue readily begging to enter. Surprising myself, I allowed him in, shuddering at the sensation when his tongue twisted with mine.

We stood there like that, our lips bruising each other as they met over and over again, his pants down around his hips, his cock still hanging out as he ground his hips against mine. When I felt my overused cock twitch, I pulled my lips from his. He continued to rub against me.

"Don't you want to fuck me again?" he asked, his hands clenching my shirt. Pushing him back to the wall, I leaned against him.

"Yes. But I say when and where." I bit his bottom lip before releasing him completely. His cock had become hard again and was leaking as I touched the head with my fingertips. "Do up your fucking pants," I ordered. Obeying, he quickly shoved himself inside, hissing at the contact, and then did his pants up. Winking, he brushed by me and headed out the alley.

Looking at the wall, I saw his cum slowly dribbling down the dirty bricks. Satisfied, I turned and headed out the alley behind him.

"Remember?" his husky voice brought me back, and I realized his lips had made their way down my neck and were now fused to my collarbone as he held my shirt opened.

"We can't," It was all I could say, my body was practically screaming at me to take advantage of the opportunity to sink my cock deep into his ass.

Murmuring against my skin, he tried to reason with me. "Why not? I bet all your clients fuck you, don't you want to fuck me? You used to."

Fuck yes I used to, and it felt fucking good.

Then his lips were back on mine, his hand inside my opened pants, his palm flattened against my growing erection. I couldn't help but buck up into his touch. Wanting to feel more, feel him against me, I reached for the shirt he was wearing, pushing the soft cotton up, I let my hands roam over his abdomen and up his chest, stopping when I felt his ribs.


I couldn't go through with it. I had been hot and full of fucking primal need, but my thoughts turned to ones of pity instead of ones of desire.

Feeling my cock twitch instinctively in his hand, he stopped kissing me and leaned his forehead on my shoulder. "See? I know how to make you feel good. I know just what to do."

Because you're a fucking professional.

Even as I nodded, I removed my hand from his chest and put them on his wrist, taking his hand from my cock. I felt a wet spot on my briefs from the leaking precum.

"I can't fuck you, Rile," I sighed.

He tried to hide it, but I could see the rejection in his eyes before he quickly covered it up. "Why not?"

"I've got a client later."

Edward Cullen.

He nods, leaning back against the plush leather of the couch, as far away from me as he could get. "I get it. Another fucking high priced john, right?"

I pushed my hips up and buttoned my pants. "You know if you weren't so fucked up all the time, you might be able to do this too?"

Snorting, he rubbed his red eyes. "No thanks, no fucking woman is going to tell me what to fucking do."

Frustrated in many ways, I stood up, and felt my erection strain against my pants. "Listen, I have a few things to do, but you're welcome to stay for a bit. Eat some more, sleep. Just don't steal."

"No thanks, I gotta get going." He stood as well.

"Pressing date?" I teased.

"Unlike you, no." He glanced around the living room. "Where are my clothes?" The high that had been in his eyes before, that glazed-over haze I had seen him wondering in many times had started to clear. It was being slowly replaced by a restless and jittery look.

He was coming down from whatever high he had been on.

"Oh, I put them in the wash. Let me get them." I went to the dryer and pulled them out. When I returned to the living room, he was standing there naked, my clothes tossed onto the chair. Seeing his thin form, so different from Peter's, made me want him a bit more. I knew it wasn't just his ass I wanted, but the force at which I knew I could have it. Tossing his clothes to him, I went into the kitchen while he dressed. I grabbed a bag and combed through my refrigerator for some food to give him, some apples, oranges, container of potato salad, some deli meats and cheese. I also tossed in some rolls and chips.

I walked back into the living and he looked up at me, dressed in his clothes once again, but now they were clean and smelled of fabric softener. "Where the fuck is it?"


"My shit. What the fuck did you do with my shit?" He was livid.

"Nothing," I lied.

"Fucking liar," he called me out on it. Running his hands through his hair, he gripped at the ends and shook his head. "I need that shit, man. I fucking need it."

I grabbed his hands and took them from his hair. "No, you don't. You are so much better without it."

His voice was weak and tired. "I just need it, you know how bad it is out there."

"Yeah, bu-"

"I need it to forget. Please," he begged, his hands clenching mine with a strength I didn't realize he had.

"Sorry, Rile," I apologized. I wasn't sorry I had taken his shit, but I was sorry his life sucked so much he needed to be high to even wake up. "Here, take some food."

"I don't want your fucking food," he spat at me.

"Please," I sighed, it was my turned to plead. I saw the mood shift in him as he realized I was trying to help.

Taking it from my hand, he whispered. "Thanks," before heading for the door. Following him, I forced my eyes to not stare at his ass. Turning, he lifted his head to kiss me again, but stopped. "Oh, right, a client later," he hissed. He was out my door before I could even say goodbye.

As I heard him head down the hallway, I slid the locks closed and went to my window. Standing in the warm beams of sunlight, I waited for him to exit the building. When he did, I saw him biting into an apple. He turned and headed left up the street before ducking into an alley.

Probably to score more shit.


"Evening, Sir," Aro greeted me as he held the door open. I nodded and climbed in, my mind still scattered from the afternoon's events. Riley's visit had unnerved me. Once again, I was constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting any minute to see James there with a wicked smile on his face. I sighed in relief as Aro pulled away from the curb. I felt safer with clients.

Peter especially.

Aro remained quiet during the drive, leaving me to close my eyes and rest while he weaved through the traffic.

After Riley had left, I had gone to the gym, and come home. I had wanted nothing more than to take a nap, but my mind wouldn't slow down enough to allow me that privilege. I was beyond exhausted by the time I had stepped into the shower, even keeping it on cold in an attempt to wake me up. As I had dressed in the navy Armani, I wondered why the specific request for that suit.

At least it wasn't a white silk toga.

Thirty minutes later, we pulled up to the Renaissance. What was it about that hotel? Were there no other suitable hotels in Seattle? Aro had taken the long way there, allowing me more time to rest, I smiled my thanks to him in the mirror before he got out to open my door.

"Mr. Cullen is in suite five. I'll be here when you're through," he held out his fist for our ritual. Hitting it with my own, I murmured thanks and headed into the hotel.

Leaning against the elevator wall, I pressed the button for the top floor and quickly checked my reflection in the gold doors. Other than a slight shadowing under my eyes, I looked perfect.

Briefly, I recalled admiring a beautiful man the same way in the same elevator a few weeks prior.

Fuck, he had been hot. My cock twitched just at the memory.

The doors opened and I headed down the very familiar hallway to the suites. Standing before number five, I straightened out my jacket, popped a mint in my mouth, ran my hand through my unruly waves, and put my game face on.


Reaching up, I knocked twice, smirking when I heard the shuffling behind the door.

My smirk was quickly wiped off my face when the door opened to reveal my client.


It was him.

The beautiful man from the elevator stood before me with a very satisfied, smug smile on his face. I attempted to recover myself quickly, to close my open mouth, hide the shock in my eyes, but I failed miserably. Debating on whether or not to acknowledge my recognition, I let instinct take over.

Coincidence was something I questioned, however fate, being in the right place at the right time, was something I believed in. Somehow, I was in the right place at the right time.

And so was he.

Fate had given us a chance weeks ago and we had blown it, yet, here I was once again staring at his gorgeous face. I thanked whatever had brought him back into my life, even more so, giving me the opportunity to be fucked by him.

I had to admit, as fucking hot as he was, I was honestly disappointed. In the elevator weeks ago impeccably dressed with fiery red hair, I had seen him as the ideal, perfect even. Not only in looks, but attitude and manner, the way he had handled the desk girls fawning over him, the way he had returned my admiring stare, and the way he commanded those around him who would just stop and stare as he walked by.

Yet, if I was standing in his doorway, he must be deeply flawed, as I had come to learn all my clients were in some way.

The longer I stood there, the more his smile faded and an anxious look took over. "Mr. Cullen?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Ye…yes. Jasper?" he stuttered. Nodding, I held out my hand and he hesitantly took it.

There is no love at first sight.

There is fucking attraction at first sight.

I knew desire. I was a fucking master at it. Knowing, it, experiencing it, and even faking it.

With Mr. Cullen, it was more than attraction. It was more than one body desiring another in every way. There was something unexplainable I felt when our skin make contact, some unfamiliar knot in my stomach that felt like I had fucking hummingbirds in there instead of butterflies.

It was an unexplainable primal pull.

And it fucking scared the shit out of me.

Regaining some of his initial confidence, he let go of my hand and motioned me inside his suite. Suite five was very similar to suite three with the exception of a different color scheme. I saw a laptop on the dark desk, a perfectly made bed and heard some classical music streaming through the sound system. After shutting the door behind me, he quickly headed for the bar, picking up a full glass of whiskey and downing it in one gulp before turning to me.

"Would you like a drink?"

I shook my head. "No thank you," I answered, smiling at his nervousness. As he poured himself another glass, I openly stared at him.

He had suit pants on but no jacket, and while his Ralph Lauren shirt was tucked in, it was undone and minus a tie. Even in his uneasiness he stood regally, with squared shoulders and straight back, and I realized he was only a few inches shorter than me. His body was incredible, but it was his face that was a true work of art. Each feature so unique they complimented each other in ways that could steal your breath.

That fiery copper hair mussed from his hands, eyes that resembled the color of green apples, faint with spots of emerald speckled throughout, were framed with long, thick lashes a few shades darker than his hair. Full lips that would look fantastic wrapped around my cock, a strong nose and fucking delicious unshaven square jaw. I licked my lips as he swallowed the amber liquid and his Adam's apple bobbed.

I wanted to suck it.

And it wasn't the only part of his body I wanted to suck.

Setting the glass on the bar top, I saw him run his fingers across it as he smiled. I was assaulted with images of what I could do to him on that marbled top. It was an ideal height.

"Mind if I take off my jacket?" I asked, unbuttoning it.

"Don't stop with the jacket," he murmured, watching my every move with an intensity that unnerved me, but I couldn't help but smirk at his unexpected forwardness. After tossing my jacket onto a chair, I stared at him as I loosened my tie and let it join my jacket. One by one, I undid the buttons of my shirt, barely at the last one before he took two strides toward me and was pushing my hands away and undoing it himself.

Gasping, he tilted his head up and pressed his lips to mine and my knees weakened.

If I had sparks with Peter, then I had fucking inferno with Edward.

It was immediate, the flames that had flickered through me when he was near fucking roared as soon as his lips met mine. Instantly, my hands were in his hair, satisfying their curiosity of its texture as the soft strands slid through my fingers. Vaguely, as his tongued entered my mouth, I felt his hands pushing my shirt off my shoulders. Moaning into the kiss, I pulled him closer, trying to get more of him.

Trying to get anything.

Our tongues furiously swirled around each other, and I felt his body begin to tremble with anticipation. As I released his hair, I realized he wasn't the only one shaking.

With Peter, undressing was slow and methodical, part of our seduction.

There was no seduction with Edward. Instead, we gripped shirts, unbuttoned pants, pulled and tugged and practically tore the clothes off each other, letting them pile up in a mess of Armani and Ralph Lauren on the floor. Our lips only left each other when we were forced to part to remove another piece of clothing.

I had never had the need to completely devour someone as I did him at that moment. We had barely spoken, were already completely naked, and I was guiding him back to the bed with my hands on his hips. Pushing him down, I watched as he fell back onto the bed, his cock slapping against his stomach with the movement. He looked up at me, licking his lips as he reached out to pull me on top of him. Not resisting, in fact there was nothing I wanted fucking more than to feel his naked body completely against mine as he moved beneath me. I fell on top of him, my lips finding his instantly.

The inferno only grew hotter as our cocks touched for the first time, rolling my hips, I rubbed my slickening cock against his and couldn't help the long moan that escaped me. I had never been so hard in my life, even Peter teasing me with the tie didn't compare to the ache I felt with Edward. Not wanting to embarrass myself by coming too soon, I left his lips and worked my way down his jaw and neck, exploring every inch, relishing in the feeling of his abrasive scruff against my lips. Shifting my weight off him, I nibbled my way to his collarbone, keeping a hand in his hair while the other constantly investigated his body, categorizing each and every reaction I got from him.

The way he moaned when my fingers brushed over his hipbone and up the inside of his thigh.

The way his hand clenched when I bit the soft skin of his neck.

The way he said 'fuck' when my rubbed my cock against him.

He writhed below me, raking his nails down my back, and he arched up as my teeth grazed his nipple, his hands weaving almost painfully tightly into my hair. I knew he was having just as difficult time a not coming as I was.

"That's it, baby…let me make you feel good," I muttered, releasing my grip on his hair and kissing my way down his stomach, stopping to circle his navel with my tongue, his skin pebbling with goose bumps. Proud of myself when I felt his stomach muscles ripple under my touch, I smiled.

He was as fit as I had suspected he was.

Nuzzling his cock with my nose, I inhaled his musky scent as he cried out. He tried to move, seeking more of my touch, but my hands on his hips held him firm. Frustrated, he murmured a few obscenities. I felt my own cock pulse but denied the urge to reach down and touch myself. Instead, I knelt between his legs, running my hands up and down his thighs.

"Just one second, baby," I said as I reached over his body and grabbed the lube and condoms he had set out on the table next to the bed. Resuming my position, I reached down and began stroking his cock, watching his face as it contorted with pleasure. "How do you want me?"

Breathlessly, he replied, "I would prefer you inside me if you don't mind."

My night had gotten impossibly better. Not only was I in the same room, fucking naked with the most gorgeous man I had ever seen, but he wanted me to fuck him.

Perhaps there was a God.

Grinning widely, I let go of him and placed my hands on either side of his shoulders, leaned over and nipped the corner of his jaw. "Mmm that can definitely be arranged. Now since that's out of the way," I paused, sliding my body down his until his cock was just inches from my mouth. " I have more time to focus on his beautiful instrument here." Learning forward, I placed a firm kiss on the tip of his cock.

Fuck, he even tasted good.

"Fuck," he moaned, and I could tell he was already on the edge, his senses on overload much like mine were.

"Let's see where you're most sensitive," I murmured before seizing his cock in my hand and looking at him through my lashes. Giving him one long lick from the base to the tip with the flat of my tongue, I felt his cock twitch in my grasp. "Oh, we can do better than that," I smirked, swirling my tongue around the head before using the tip to nudge the ridge on the underside of his shaft. A low moan formed in the back of his throat and I felt his toes curl against my legs as he resisted the urge to grab my head and force himself into my mouth. "Hmm, I'm getting warmer…."

As soon as the words had left me, I pointed my tongue and dipped it into his slit, flicking it back and forth quickly.

"Oh, God," he gasped, his hips undulating involuntarily.

Apparently, he had found God as well.

"There we go," I smiled, satisfied. I pulled back and swear he whined. "Just relax. I'll take care of you," I promised as I hovered over him, bracing one elbow against the bed while the other pinched his nipple and I kissed his neck gently. Moving my hand from his chest, I reached next to me and popped the lube open. As I placed soft kisses down his throat, I drizzled a few drops of lube over his balls. His hips bucked up, and I chuckled. Putting the bottle back down, I let my fingers gather the lube before moving to the smooth skin below his sac, circling his entrance before I pushed forward, slowing inching inside. When I felt his muscles constrict, I knew he was close.

On the outside, I was a consummate professional, bringing nothing but pleasure to my client. The inside, however, was an entirely different story. Along with my throbbing cock, my heart raced in my chest so fast I thought I was having an anxiety attack. It wasn't just gentle flutters, but a pounding that literally made it feel like it was going to burst from my chest. Attempts to calm myself were of no use, my muscles were tense and I felt like I had had about forty cups of coffee. In the dark of the room, he couldn't see the struggle in my eyes as I tried to keep myself under control.

I wondered if he could feel the affect he was having on me. I wondered if he felt the constant quivers traveling through me.

While I continued to ready him, I made my way down his chest. I desperately wanted to kiss him again, but knew as soon as I felt his tongue with mine, he would wearing my cum. Instead, I teased his nipples with my teeth as I added a second finger to the first.

"Jasper…Jasper…Jasper…" he repeated over and over as I worshipped his body. Licking the defined lines of chest and stomach, I stopped at his hipbone. I felt the tension in his body, the coil wound so tightly it was ready to spring. Fucking him with my fingers, I finally took his cock into my mouth, taking in his entire length a few times before quickly releasing him, grabbing him with my hand and sticking my tongue in his slit again.

When I felt his cock jerk forcefully, I took him into my mouth again and felt his hands in my hair. Holding my head still, I let him fuck my mouth, his hips lurching up off the bed over and over again until the head tapped the back of my throat and the first spurt of his cum erupted and dribbled down my throat. Fisting my hair, he arched up and cried out as ecstasy washed over him and wave after wave of hot fluid shot into my mouth. Continuing to swallow around him, prolonging his pleasure, his body became tight, his muscles trembling with repeated aftershocks. Finally sated, he fell back and I released his softening cock from my mouth and kissed my way back up his stomach, licking the salty sheen of sweat that had gathered on his pale skin.

"Oh my God," he mumbled, his breath coming in short, rough pants. Lifting his shoulders and head off the bed, he pulled my lips to his, searching for his taste.

"It's about to get a lot better," I promised with a wink. "Can you handle it?"

"Bring it on," he chuckled. Rising to my knees again, I grabbed a condom and tore it open. Sliding it down my shaft, I felt uncomfortable under the intensity of his stare.

I had been fucked…a lot. But I had only fucked two men in my life, and neither of them had been clients, and I couldn't have given a shit about making it feel good for them. Usually when a guy hired me, it was to have a tight hole for his dick.

It was the first time I was fucking for someone entirely for their pleasure. The pit in my stomach grew as he stared at me with expectation I feared I wouldn't live up to. Never had I seen myself so desired in someone's eyes, and the feeling consumed me.

Nervously, I stroked myself. "How do you want me to fuck you?"

Something told me he wasn't going to say against the brick wall in an alley.

"Here in the bed, like this," he spread his legs wide for me. "I want to watch you."

"You like watching yourself get fucked?" I asked and he nodded, and I made a mental note for later. I held my finger out to him. Watching me under his lashes, he sucked it into his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue before I pulled it out and immediately entered his ass with it. While his body was still relaxed from his orgasm, I pulled my finger out and positioned my cock at his entrance, moaning as his body tightly welcomed me inch by inch. Going much slower than my body screamed for, I gripped his knees, keeping his legs wide for me as I watched myself enter him.

I had never seen anything so fucking erotic in my life.

His muscles stretched to accommodate me, contracting around me so tightly I felt the pulse in my cock. One of his hands rested on my forearm, his nails digging into my flesh while his other hand ran up and down his chest and stomach.

"Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth. With half of my cock in the embrace of his ass,

I stopped, unsure if I was hurting him. I ached to push forward and shove myself deep inside him. "Please, don't stop," he begged, gripping my arm so tight his knuckles began to turn white. Sighing in relief, I allowed my hips to slowly move forward until I was fully seated in him.

Looking down, I saw myself completely sheathed by him and even with all the people I had been with, I had never felt as fucking amazing as I did right then. When I heard him moan, I forced my eyes up to his and saw him watching us too. Instinctively, I began to slowly pull almost all the way out, only to push back in. He looked up at me, and our eyes met.

Watching him as I began rhythmically thrusting and in out of his velvet warmth, I felt my heart skip a beat at the vulnerability I suddenly felt. I had been scared before, I had been threatened before, but nothing frightened me as much as being so exposed as I felt when he looked at me. It was as if he was reading my internal thoughts, as if he knew every worry and fear I had had ever had, things that had remained buried and protected for so long were suddenly being uncovered by his green eyes.

I wanted to flip him over, so I couldn't see his face, pretend he was just another fuck, another nameless faceless fuck when my gut was telling me he was anything but.

"Edward," I heard myself whisper. It was the first time I had spoken his first name and was shocked at the ease with which it fell from my lips, as if I had called it out every night for a thousand nights. When he heard his name, something flickered in his eyes, something knowing, something that told me he felt it too.

Each time I rocked my hips, a look of bliss crossed his face as I hit a spot deep inside him. Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked him a few times. Feeling him grow harder with each pump of my hand, I stilled my pelvis and concentrated on stroking him. He lifted his ass off the bed to fuck my hand, precum seeped from his slit, and I slickened his cock with it. Resuming my thrusts, I timed them with my strokes, concentrating on how good he felt in my hand instead of how good my cock felt inside him.

"Fuck me, Jasper," he groaned, and it was my undoing. I felt the burn begin in my balls, and they tightened as the fire spread through my abdomen. "Harder, fuck me harder."

I held his hip with one hand and slammed forcefully into him just as he had asked, hoping to hold off for a few more thrusts.

"Is that what you want?" I asked, my breath coming out in large gasps.

"I want you," he replied simply.

He wanted me.

My head lolled back as I came, cum jettisoning from me in quick bursts as my orgasm exploded through my body with a force I had never experienced before. Every muscle shuddered and visibly shook as the euphoric waves ebbed over me. Wrapping his legs around my waist, he restricted my movements, keeping me deep in him as I rode out the last ripples of rapture. When I opened my clenched eyes, I felt his hips bucking up; I had forgotten I was still holding his cock in my hand.

"You want to come again, Edward?"

Biting down on his lip so hard I thought it might bleed, he nodded. His hands on my thighs, I continued to stroke him, pumping his cock at a furious pace as I watched him wantonly chase his second orgasm. When he started to moan, and I saw the muscles of his stomach tighten, I reached for his hand that was on my leg. Taking it, I entwined my fingers with his, holding tightly as he called out my name and came again. His creamy fluid flowed warm and thick from his cock and down over my hand. The spasms of his ass contracted around my softening cock, milking every last drop from me.

Watching myself enter his ass had been erotic. Watching him cum while I was still inside him was surreal, the feelings it evoked, not only physically, but emotionally.

I had reached for his hand and held it as he came.

I had never even held someone's hand before, much less during such an intimate moment. However, nothing had ever felt more natural.

He lay back on the bed, his eyes closed, his chest heaving, his cock dripping the last of his sweet cum onto his curls as he sighed with contentment.

His hand still in mine.

Motionless, I waited, not wanting to lose the connection I felt. As much as it scared me, it thrilled me. It had caused me to come far sooner than any professional should, but it had also brought about the most intense orgasm I had ever experienced. I felt drained, weak, and oddly energetic at the same time. Afraid to move, I remained in him, his thumb rubbing my hand as he slowly opened his eyes and smiled up at me.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he complimented, and I shivered at his voice, its silky tone soothing my ragged nerves.

I wanted to say something cool, confident and sexy. Instead I let go of his cock and brought my hand to my lips. His breath hitched when my tongue darted out to lick his cum off my hand.

"Shit, that's fucking hot," he murmured, his eyes following every movement of my tongue and hand.

"Mmmm, tastes good too," was all I could manage.

His hand was still in mine.

He seemed satisfied and I took solace in the fact that I one of my best skills as an escort was that I had practically zero recovery time, and knew I'd be ready to go again in a few minutes. Gripping myself, I slid myself from him, and removed the condom. When I went to release his hand, he asked "Where are you going?"

I held up the condom, "I'll be right back."

After I tossed it in the trash, I turned back to him and found him sprawled across the bed on his back, a look of pure bliss covered not only his face but his entire body as he gradually came down from his orgasmic high. In the moonlight that entered the room in wide beams through the window, he looked like a god carved of clay. Even the small imperfections that made him real were hidden in the blue glow.

"Come here" he whispered and I realized his eyes were studying me as intently as mine had been doing to him. Obeying, I went to him and fell into his welcoming embrace

Together we lay, our limbs entwined and wrapped around each other as we mutually shuddered and trembled with remnants of our climaxes.

"How long?" I didn't need to ask more, he knew what I meant.

"Six hours," he sighed, a twinge of sadness in his voice.

Glancing at the clock, I felt the same wave of sadness.

Four more hours.

The countdown had begun.

"Do you want to shower?"

"Not yet, just lay with me," he requested.

Whatever the client wants.

Laying his head on my chest, he wrapped an arm around my waist, his leg slung over mine.

Skin was stroked, hair was fingered, and lips were kissed.

But no words were spoken for two hours.

When I felt him growing hard against my hip, I pulled away from his lips. "Want to shower now?"

Knowing the suites as well as I did, I had something in mind. Something briefly crossed his features, and he grinned.

"Yes, I do," he answered, practically jumping out of the bed and running to the bathroom. I heard the shower running before I reached the door and found him testing the water with his hand.

He was as beautiful in the light of the bathroom as he was in the darkness of the bedroom. Pale skin covered taut muscles as he stretched to reach the water in the large shower. My eyes roamed his body, from his muscled calves and long legs to a perfectly curved ass to his sculptured chest, wide shoulders and finally, his beautiful face.

He really was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

And I wanted to watch that face while I fucked him.

"You ready?" he asked, holding out a hand. He seemed very eager to get me into the shower.

"I want to do something first," I told him. Taking his hand, I pulled him to me, turning him so his back was to my chest. Holding his hips, I turned us so we were facing the counter directly in front of Edward. Looking in the mirror, I saw a knowing smile on his face. I let go of his hip with one hand and ran it up his back to his shoulder, where I pushed him forward to bend over the counter. Reaching around him, I grabbed the lube and condom I had brought in with me. After I put the condom on, I slathered lube over my cock. He stood perfectly still while he waited for me, the only hint of his excitement was the short panting breaths that had begun to escape his body in anticipation. Probing his ass with my slick fingers, I readied him as he stood before me with his legs spread, palms on the marble counter top, and his head hung low.

Without warning, I pulled my hand back and smacked his ass. Jumping at the contact, he cried out. Gently, I rubbed the red mark my hand left behind as I continued to finger him.

"Now, please," he whispered in a low voice. Convinced he was ready, I removed my fingers and held his hips as I slowly entered him again.

It felt just as fucking incredible as it had the first time.

Stopping, I waited until I heard him exhale before I pushed forward.

Tight, warm, slick…amazing.

With him bent over the counter, I was able to penetrate him deeply, my cock searching for his prostate with each thrust. I kept one hand on his hip, keeping him fused to me, while my other hand ran up and down his back, grazing over his muscles as they flexed under his alabaster skin working to accept the pleasure the intrusion of my body was bringing him. Weaving my fingers into his hair, I fisted it tightly and pulled his head back.

"Look at us," I demanded. "Watch me fuck you, Edward." His eyes glanced at mine in the mirror, and then he looked down our reflection to where I was entering him.

"Fuck," he murmured, pushing his ass back against me as he widened his stance. "Harder."

Watching his reaction, I picked up the pace, both hands on his hips to still him as I pounded into him feverishly. I saw his tongue lick his lips, I saw his fingers trying to grasp the cool marble counter, I saw lust laden lids half covering green eyes glazed over with a thick lust.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he repeated, his breath heavy as he clawed with shaking fingers for anything to offer him leverage. "So fucking good, so fucking good. Please make me come, I need to come, please, please…."

I made him like that. I made him lose control.


I felt empowered with the realization that he wanted me, that he was as affected by me as I was by him.

"No, you can't come yet," I told him. His head snapped up and his eyes met mine in the mirror. Taking one hand from his hip, I moved it to his chest and forced him to stand upright, his body flushed with mine. Splaying my hand across his chest, I kept him tightly to me as I continued to enter him. Movement in the mirror caught my eye and I looked down to see Edward's aroused cock bouncing and swinging with every thrust, his need evident in the reddening head.

"Touch me, please," he begged when he saw me watching his cock.

"Just watch me fuck you. Watch my cock fuck your tight ass, so slick and warm. Fucking perfect. Do you like me fucking you, Edward? You like my cock in your ass?" I moaned and groaned out the words as my need to have him tell him how much he wanted me grew. I could see it, but I needed to hear it.

"Yes, I like you fucking me," he whispered before taking one hand and wrapping it around my neck behind him, his fingers gripping my hair as I pushed us forward with each buck of my hips. I was close, my cock throbbed as a tingling had started to form in my balls.

"Fuck," I whispered, overwhelmed, I put my forehead on his shoulder, dragging my tongue along his salty skin. I felt his fingers weave with mine on his chest as he held our hands over his heart.

"Gonna come," I whimpered against his moist skin.

"Look at me," he demanded in a soft voice. The warmth was spreading through my lower abdomen and I forced my head up and looked at our reflection in the steam covered mirror.

His sweaty naked body moving as I fucked him, his hand clutching mine over his heart, his arm around my neck as he held my waves in his tight fist, his eyes as they watched me, wanted me. My climax ripped through me, coating every nerve with pleasure as my cock spurt into him. Never taking my eyes off his as I continued to come in him in pulsing bursts, I grunted. "Fucking most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he whispered. Using the hand in my hair, he turned my head, his lips opening as they met mine, his tongue already invading my willing mouth. I felt myself still inside him, but in my post orgasmic fog, I wanted nothing more than to kiss and hold him. My eyes drifted closed as our lips met again and again.

When he moaned into the kiss, I felt his hand leave his chest. Opening my eyes, I saw him stroking himself. Immediately, I reached down and stopped him.

"Let me take care of that," I offered. Slipping from his warmth, I removed the condom and tossed it in the trash. Then I took his hand, opened the shower stall and pulled him in. As soon as he was under the stream of hot water, I knelt before him as his cock extended proudly from his body.

Gasping, his hands went to my hair, fingering the wet curls before pushing them off my face. Looking at up at him through my lashes, I stuck my tongue out and languidly licked his shaft from base to tip. His fucking entire body shuddered powerfully.

"Are you for real?" he murmured so quietly I wasn't sure if he knew he had said it out loud. As I took him into my mouth, wrapping my lips firmly around his wet, hard cock, he lolled his head back and let out a long groan. "Ugh, fuck, Jasper."

With his cock encased in my mouth and my hands on his ass, I began to bob my head up and down, my tongue flickering over his satin skin. His body protected me from the spray of water, and I watched it run down him as I hollowed out my cheeks and sucked.

"Fuck me," he cried out. Sliding one hand along his ass, I brought it around to his heavy balls and fondled them, tugging his sac as I took him even deeper into my mouth. "Jesus fucking Christ," he moaned when his head hit the back of my throat. Releasing him, I moved my mouth to his velvety balls and took one into my mouth, suckling it before moving on to the other. Wet and hot, they smelled musky.

"Do you like fucking my mouth?" I asked as my tongue fluttered along the inside of his thigh. He spread his legs wider, allowing me more room. He moaned. "Answer me," I mumbled against his hipbone.

"You have no idea how much I like fucking your mouth," he replied with uneven breaths.

"Then show me." I placed a kiss on the head of his cock and rest back on my heels. Stepping forward, he gripped the base of his cock in his hand and slapped the head against my cheek a few times. Hard and heavy it hit me, and I loved it. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back and let him slap me with it.

"Open," he demanded.

I opened my mouth wide for him and with hands on both sides of my head, he entered my mouth forcefully, shoving himself deep inside. Embracing him tightly with my lips, I let him fuck my mouth, my tongue swirling along the underside of his cock with each of his thrusts. With my hands resting lightly on his thighs, he fucked my mouth so hard that I felt my lips begin to swell. As his hips rhythmically bucked into my mouth, I looked up at him with water running down my face, his cock filling my mouth, my hair and lashes wet and clumping together. My own cock hung heavy and limp and used between my legs.

"Fucking so much better than I imagined," he whispered. Relaxing my throat, I took him deeper, tears welled in my eyes as I held off a gag. I tasted his precum on my tongue and moaned around him, the vibration from it pushing him over the edge. "Fuck," he called out, gripping my hair tighter. "Fucking gonna come, ugh," he growled as I felt the first shot of his climax enter my mouth and slide down my throat as I swallowed around him. In ecstasy, he titled his head back, allowing the water to directly spray down on me. Closing my eyes as it hit my face, I felt him pulse and jerk inside my mouth as his cum continued to erupt from his cock in powerful bursts. He pulled himself from my mouth and gripped my arms, pulling me up. As soon as I was standing, his mouth was on mine, his tongue sweeping through my mouth for his taste as his hand went to my ass and he ground his hips into mine, our limp and exhausted cocks rubbing together.

Pulling away, he rested his forehead against mine as the water beat down on his back. Running his fingers ran down my face, he muttered, "Again."

There were limits to my skills. I was fine with going again, but I was going to require a few minutes at very least.

I didn't know what he meant, and went to pull away to ask, but he put a finger over my lips, stopping me. Without another word, we washed each other from head to feet, our bodies covered in suds as our hands roamed freely, discovering every inch.

Finally, we made it back to the bed, both of us practically collapsing on it. Facing each other, we lay on our sides, our legs entwined. With his hand on my waist, I felt his thumb strumming my skin and I shivered from the simple intimate act. My heart raced at his nearness, and I swore if the room had been silent, he would have heard it pounding. Glancing at the clock, I noted the time.

One hour.

"You're amazing," he said as his finger traced my bottom lip.

Another satisfied customer.

Only he wasn't the only one satisfied.

"May I ask you something?" I asked hesitantly. He nodded and watched my lips as I spoke." I suspect my being here isn't a coincidence."

"No, it's not," he sighed.

"How did you find me? I mean, the elevator…." Neither of us had openly admitted that we recognized the other.

Blushing, he looked away. "I found you on the website. I've been using the service for my past few visits to Seattle, and while he was good, I was looking for something a bit more like…"

"Like?" I hedged when he paused.

"Like you," he finally admitted, forcing his eyes to mine.

It was my turn to blush.

"So I went to the website to see my options, and when I saw your pictures, I cancelled Jake and scheduled you."

Jake? Must have been one of my colleagues.

"Best fucking decision of my life," he said in a satisfied tone before brushing his lips along mine gently.

It was sweet and tender.

It was unlike anything I had ever known before.

"Did you recognize me?" I had to know.

"As the guy from the elevator?" he asked and I nodded. "Yes, but not only from the elevator." I furrowed my brows trying to recall when I had seen him again and came up empty. "You didn't see me, but last night, I was in the bar downstairs waiting for…an appointment," he smirked before continuing. "And I saw you there."

I had been waiting for Peter. He had called and said he was going to be late, and to meet him in the bar. "Did you see…." I didn't finish and he nodded his head.

"Yes. I had assumed he was your partner, so I was pleased when I saw I could have you too," he answered.

I couldn't explain why but his words stung.

Did he assume that I couldn't have partner because of my job, or did he think Peter was too good to be my partner?

His eyes drifted closed as he yawned, and I felt his body relax next to me, completely sated from our night's activities. I was as physically spent as he was and my body craved the rest he was falling into. Lying there, I watched as he quickly succumbed to sleep, his slightly parted lips, his soft sighs of drowsiness, the slight quiver in his muscles as they gradually relaxed.

I looked over his shoulder at the clock.

For the next forty-five minutes, I watched him sleep. Every few minutes I would reach out and delicately touch him, his hair, his shoulders, or arms, afraid that each time I laid my fingers on him, he would fade away. Instead, the corners of his mouth would turn up slightly, or he would release a contented sigh.

With fifteen minutes left, I gently got out of bed without disturbing him and found my clothes. Dressing in the dark, I watched him as I pulled on my pants and buttoned my shirt. Ironically, I looked much how I had the first time I had seen him in the elevator, disheveled, wrinkled and thoroughly satisfied.

Grabbing the pen and paper off the desk, I scribbled a note for him and left it on the table next to the bed. Standing next to the bed, I leaned over and pushed the hair off his forehead before placing a kiss on it.

"Thank you," I whispered before quietly slipping out of the room and closing the door behind me. As I walked down the hall to the elevator, a tightness clenched my heart, an unknown ache gripped me.

The night air was cool and refreshing on my sore and tired body as I exited the building. Aro was waiting by the car and opened the door for me.

"Good Evening, sir, you're right on time," I gave him a small smile and climbed into the back of the car without a word. "Everything alright?" he asked as he got behind the wheel and eyed me in the mirror.

"Yes, everything's fine," I sighed, looking out the window.

It was fucking perfect, right? I had just been paid to fuck and blow the most beautiful man in the world.

So why did I just feel I had discovered the man behind the curtain wasn't the great and powerful Oz after all?


Thanks for reading! Okay, I know it probably didn't live up to expectations, but remember Jasper is feeling some unknown emotions, and isn't quite sure how to handle them.