Chapter 1 Dirty Dea

Jaden's boots hit the pavement like he was marching into war.

It was always like this when Uncle Ray called-a text with a time and a location, no details, no options. Tonight, it was the high-rise on Fifth and Holloway, the kind of place that smelled like glass cleaner and money. Jaden hated it already.

He wore his usual armor: ripped skinny jeans, a mesh black shirt that clung to his lean frame, and that faux-leather jacket he got from a thrift store two years ago. He was seventeen going on twenty-five. Eyes rimmed with black liner, lips slicked with chapstick. Everything about him screamed untouchable, but only if you didn't look too close.

The lobby was marble and gold-gaudy rich. A security guy with a Bluetooth headset glanced at him sideways but didn't stop him. Uncle Ray had already sent his name ahead, of course.

Penthouse. 21st floor. He took the elevator up with a quiet, bitter smirk.

⸻

Elliot Pierce was pacing his apartment in a tailored navy sweater and slacks, the kind that whispered "old money" with every stitch. His hair was neat, his jaw clean-shaven. At 38, he had the kind of face that would age like wine if only he'd let go of the weight pressing on his shoulders.

He shouldn't have agreed to this.

But Ray had promised discretion, and Elliot... well, he was lonely. And curious. And god, so damn tired of pretending.

He nearly jumped when the doorbell chimed.

He opened it-and froze.

Jaden stood there like trouble dipped in sex appeal. Bold eyes. Full mouth. Lean body like a dancer. He was young, but not boyish. Sharp angles. A slow, cocky smile spread on his lips like he owned the night.

"You must be Elliot," Jaden said, brushing past him like smoke.

Elliot swallowed hard, shutting the door. "You're... younger than I expected."

Jaden turned to face him, tilting his head. "Yeah? You're shyer than I expected. Want me to leave?"

"No," Elliot said too fast, then softened it with a clearing throat. "No, please stay. Would you like something to drink?"

"Sure. Surprise me." Jaden dropped onto the plush couch like it was his own, legs spread, arms draped. He watched Elliot retreat into the kitchen, eyes trailing the man's awkward gait.

This one was different.

Older, obviously. Buttoned-up. Nervous as hell. But not sleazy like the others. He had kind eyes-and the kind of silence that came from years of keeping secrets.

⸻

Elliot handed him a glass of red wine with slightly shaking fingers.

"So," Jaden purred, taking a sip, "what's your story, Mr. Pierce?"

"You don't have to call me that."

"What then? Daddy?"

Elliot choked on his drink, color blooming across his cheeks. Jaden laughed, high and careless.

"Kidding. Mostly." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "So what is this? You lonely? Closeted? Bored?"

Elliot blinked. "I don't think this is how these... arrangements usually go."

"Well," Jaden said, shrugging, "maybe I'm not like the others."

He wasn't wrong.

There was something dangerously alive about him. Like he could set the room on fire and walk away untouched. And yet, Elliot's eyes kept drifting to his mouth, the way he licked wine from his bottom lip like he knew exactly what it did to people.

Jaden caught him staring.

"You wanna kiss me?" he asked, blunt as a blade.

Elliot's breath hitched. "I-don't know."

"Good answer. Honest." Jaden stood, slow and fluid, and walked over until they were inches apart. "Most guys lie."

Elliot didn't move. He could smell Jaden's cologne-cheap but addictive-and the faint trace of mint and cigarettes on his breath. His heart pounded like he was sixteen again.

Jaden reached up, gently touched his collar. "You're not like them either, are you?"

"No," Elliot whispered.

Jaden leaned in-slow, daring, giving Elliot time to stop him. He didn't. Their lips met, and it wasn't fast or hungry. It was curious. Like tasting a secret.

Elliot sighed against his mouth, and Jaden deepened it. Their tongues touched briefly, warm and wet. Elliot's hand moved to Jaden's waist, gripping like he was afraid he'd float away.

When they pulled back, Elliot was breathless.

"I don't usually do this," he said.

Jaden grinned. "Neither do I."

They both knew it was a lie.

⸻

Later, they sat on the balcony overlooking the city lights. Jaden had kicked his boots off, legs curled beneath him. Elliot poured another round, more relaxed now, but still clearly unsure.

"So what do you get out of this?" Elliot asked.

Jaden turned, eyes dark. "Money. Rent. Uncle Ray's version of love."

"That's not love."

Jaden smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're sweet. Naive, but sweet."

Elliot looked down into his glass. "You shouldn't have to do this."

"I know," Jaden said simply.

They sat in silence. The kind that felt too thick for strangers but too intimate for clients.

Then Jaden asked softly, "Do you want me to stay the night?"

Elliot looked at him. Not just at his body, but into his eyes-and saw the exhaustion there, the steel under the swagger.

He didn't answer with words.

He stood and offered his hand.

⸻

In the bedroom, things slowed down. Jaden peeled his jacket off, eyes never leaving Elliot. The older man watched with quiet reverence, touching him like he was something sacred. There was no rush, no greed.

Just curiosity. Tenderness.

They kissed again-this time deeper, fuller. Jaden's fingers slid under Elliot's sweater, feeling the warmth of his chest. Elliot shuddered under the touch, like every nerve was waking up.

When Jaden straddled him, hips pressing down, Elliot gasped. Their clothed bodies rubbed, friction building, electric. Hands roamed. Mouths found skin. Jaden's breath hitched as Elliot kissed the base of his neck, hesitant but hungry.

It didn't go all the way. Not yet.

But the way they moved-bodies grinding in sync, breathing each other in-it was more intimate than most one-night stands.

When they finally collapsed side by side, both flushed and dazed, the silence was heavy again.

Jaden broke it. "You looked at me like I was something more than just a paycheck."

Elliot turned his head, voice hoarse. "Because you are."

Jaden blinked. For a moment, his mask slipped.

And for the first time in a long time, he let someone see behind it.