Outside, a driver waited by the customer's shiny black Expedition, ready to open the door for Cole. The man sat inside with one ankle propped up on the other knee, arm across the back of the seat so that his thumb was right behind Cole's neck when he sat back. The driver shut the door, and then he and Elijah climbed into the front.

"Sweatpants?" The man asked.

Cole scrunched his nose up and looked around for the seatbelt. "I didn't expect you tonight, honey. I'll be sure to have my stilettos and trench coat ready for next time."

"So long as you don't have anything on under the trench coat."

"Naturally."

Up front, Elijah sighed.

As they rode along, Cole peered up at the streetlights flashing by. The man was wearing a nice cologne. He also stashed a bar under the seat, from which he withdrew a bottle of gin, two glasses with ice, and a bottle of tonic water. "Would you like a drink?"

Elijah's eyes darted up to the rearview mirror. Cole met them for half a second before looking away and shrugging. "Okay."

The effects of the daquiri had settled out, so he doubted another drink would hurt at this point. The man mixed up their drinks and then handed one of the glasses over.

"What's your name?" Cole asked as he accepted it.

"Gideon." The man held up his glass for a toast, and Cole played along.

They pulled up to a nice hotel. Cole felt more than a little ridiculous under the bright lobby lighting, where everyone spoke in hushed, polite tones. It made his ears ring after the loud music at the club. The hour was late enough to be mostly empty, but a family was checking in at the desk, luggage sprawled around them, and kids tapping at games on their phones. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

Gideon must have already set all this up beforehand because they passed the check-in desk and went straight for the elevator. Elijah accompanied them all the way to the hotel room, where he would wait outside the door, listening for the first sign of anything going wrong. Before the door shut behind them, he looked Gideon dead in the eyes and warned, "You have one hour. I have one of the keys. Do not put the chain lock on. If I think anything is going on that I don't like the sound of, I will come inside."

Cole hoped the walls were thick because Elijah never liked the sound of anything that went on.

"Logan runs a tight ship," Gideon said once the door was shut.

"He just likes to protect the merchandise," Cole pulled off his jacket and slung it over the armchair in the corner by the door.

This hotel was fancy enough for there to be more floor space than areas taken up by furniture. The bed was a California king, with a scattering of rose petals across the mattress and two chocolates on the pillows. Cole wandered over to it and brushed his fingers over the satin petals, bright spots of red against the white duvet.

"What is this, the honeymoon suit?" he scoffed.

"Hardly," Gideon said, shrugging out of his own peacoat. "Valentine's is tomorrow, so maybe it's that."

"Oh, right." Cole shook his head and sighed. He had managed to forget that for a couple of hours.

"Still into this, baby?" Gideon asked, as if Cole had a choice. But he honestly had been into it earlier, so it was no chore to put aside his ire at Valentine's Day and focus. He made his posture a little sultry and his voice a little syrupy.

"I'm into you, honey."

Gideon smirked. "I'd like to tie you up."

Logan said to give the guy whatever he wanted. But Cole shook his head. "No can do."

"Alright," Gideon said easily, and Cole blinked. "Maybe once we get to know each other better."

"Not happening tonight," Cole reiterated. This guy did not seem like a psycho who wanted to tie him to the bed and cut his ear off or something, but Cole had been wrong before. Letting men tie him up was one of the common threads in the situations where Elijah had to barge in and make sure he was not getting murdered because the pitch of his screams sounded like he was.

But Cole liked that kind of shit. He always did, even before he entered this line of work. Back when he rolled around in bed with a couple of guys from school, he enjoyed it when they held his wrists above his head and all that. And now, sometimes, it was nice to have physical restraints to fight against since he could not struggle against the ones that were not corporeal. So, he got himself into trouble sometimes. But he did not feel like doing that tonight. He would have enough trouble tomorrow night.

"I meant another night." Gideon prowled forward. "I like you, baby. I think I'll want to see you again."

Cole rolled his eyes. "You barely even got to sample the goods yet."

"Well," Gideon raised his brows. "Why don't you go ahead and give me a good old-fashioned strip tease to show them off?"

That he could do.

The carpet was soft beneath Cole's feet as he stood at the end of the bed in front of where Gideon situated himself. There was not much to the art of stripping. He started with his tank top, sliding it slowly up his torso and over his arms, tossing it to the side. Then he spun around to give Gideon a nice view as he bent at the waist to slide the sweatpants down until he was watching upside down to see if Gideon was showing more emotion here than he did at the club. He was not.

The lace shorts and g-string followed the slow path down his long legs, and then Cole turned back around and gave Gideon a full view of his front. Finally, Gideon licked his lips. Honestly, Cole's pride had been starting to hurt.

"I can respect that you don't want to be tied up," Gideon said, looking from between Cole's legs to his eyes. "But do you mind if I put you into a bit of a predicament?"

Cole tilted his head to the side. "Depends."

"I've got..." he leaned back on the mattress to pull his wallet out of his pocket and thumbed through his cash. "Five hundred. That'll just be a tip for you, alright, baby? Separate from the actual charge I negotiated with Logan, so it can be just between you and me."

Cole was one thousand percent required to hand over any and all tips he received from extracurriculars like this, but he would not tell this guy that. Men liked the fantasy that what they shared with Cole was special. They liked to think this was something just between them, which the boss did not know about other guys did not do for Cole. Like they were better than those other guys – really looking out for him or something.

Gideon did not quite strike Cole as the delusional type. He seemed more like the type to tie five hundred on the end of a string and dangle it in front of Cole just to see what he would do. Which was apparently what was about to happen.

"You have to work for it, though." Gideon plucked the bills out of his wallet and then fanned them out. It was a combination of hundreds, fifties, and twenties. "I'm going to put them against the wall, and you have to hold them there with your forehead while I play with you. Does that sound like something you'd like to do?"

Honestly, it did. Cole should probably have some problem with this guy who thought it was entertaining to wave hundreds around in a stripper's face and tell him he had to work extra for it. But this was not like the ten dollars that the asshole kept yanking out of his reach earlier. This was five hundred dollars, and it was above the negotiated price. He was not playing cute with Cole. He was playing mind games.

Cole did not mind the challenge, especially if he got extra money out of it. "Yeah, I'd like to try that."

"Right over here then."

He held the wad of bills against the wall between the heavy drapes pulled over the windows and an armchair. They were about level with Cole's collarbone, which meant he would not throw out his back by bending all the way over. He looked at the single pointer finger holding the money to the wall, then at Gideon. Then he bent and put his forehead against the money. The edges of the paper tickled his nose. His hands fluttered around by his sides for a moment before he placed them against the wall to steady himself.

"That's good," Gideon murmured. A hand brushed down Cole's side, then wrapped around his hip. Each breath Cole took was measured. The wall was smooth beneath the pads of his fingers and his palms. The hand on his side was broad. Gideon stepped forward to stand behind Cole, bringing his other hand up to wrap it around Cole's other hip, bracketing him against the wall with the warmth bleeding from his body despite the clothes still between them.

"Legs apart."

Something hard knocked gently against the inside of Cole's ankle – Gideon's shoe. He shuffled his legs further apart under Gideon's guidance. He tilted his hips when Gideon's hands pressed them back. It was nice to receive clear instructions and know that he was doing exactly what the client wanted. Not having to put on a performative, inelegant show of passion. There was an honesty to what Gideon was doing, in spite of the reality of their situation or perhaps because of it.

"That's good." Gideon stroked a hand down the valley of Cole's spine. He crowded forward, the press of his fly a cool shock that momentarily distracted from the hard line beneath his jeans. Cole bit his lip and clenched his hands into fists against the wall.

"Uh-uh." Gideon reached forward to uncurl Cole's fists. "Relax for me, baby."

Cole exhaled and re-focused on the smooth paint beneath the pads of his fingers. Did his best to relax into the little circles and strokes Gideon left across the expanse of his back. His fingers traced patterns of sensation as they traced his shoulder blades, the knobs of his spine, and every dip and furl of his muscles.

"Do you like that?" Gideon asked. "When I call you baby?"

"Yes," Cole puffed, the word stirring the edges of the bills where they brushed his nose.

"Are you just saying that to please me, or is it the truth?"

Instead of answering immediately, Cole pressed his fingers into the wall and thought. Pet names were a dime a dozen in his life. He was called baby, sugar, sweetheart, and uglier names hundreds of times on the daily. If he had a nickel for every time, he would be rich.

They never bothered him the way they did other people. It was one more mask between his real self and this life. He could play somebody's sweetheart for the night. And it was the same here. He didn't mind being Gideon's baby for an hour. But all that was about pleasing the customer. Compartmentalizing for their comfort, to sell the product.

If he was honest with himself, he liked the way 'baby' tumbled from Gideon's lips – not possessive, but sensual and private. That thought alone deserved an eye roll. Being attractive really got people far in life. Gideon was handsome and had more charisma than ninety percent of Cole's clients, so Cole was tempted to let himself be played like a fiddle. But also, he just liked the timbre of Gideon's voice, which felt like a caress against his skin.

He huffed. Usually, when clients wanted a genuine reaction out of him, not just a fake ego boost, Cole would be too bored or not very turned on – it got old telling guys they were the biggest he ever had – but Gideon had him soul searching for honest answers. The man's charisma was no joke.

"Yeah, I like it."