Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
It’s affection.
It’s…
No. I can’t go there. Not even to ponder.
Heath is User 1543, and this is a job. For Josh as well as me.
“Ready for pamper day?” Heath asks, and Josh wrestles him over, so he’s on top of both of us. A sleepy pile up.
“Fuck pamper day,” Josh says, guiding Heath’s face to mine.
It’s a full-on tangle of a kiss when Heath’s lips land, and I squirm instinctively, my horny pussy ready for a round of cock. But Heath pulls away.
“You deserve your fee,” he says. “No fees, no proposals.”
I watch him as he rises from the bed, his perfect ass a sight to behold. I want to see Josh’s cock buried in him. I want, I want, I want… everything.
“Come on,” Heath says. “Shift your cute butts. Pamper day starts right now.”
“No choice, have we?” Josh says with a smirk. “No way we’re losing out on proposal number two.” He slaps Heath’s ass as he gets out of bed to join him. “You’re a darling, you know that? Pampering us so generously when we are the ones here to pamper you.”
Josh isn’t wrong.
A delivery of fresh fruit and pastries arrives once the three of us are done in the bathroom. We sit in robes on the terrace, munching down croissants and fruit salad while sipping on top end espresso, and Heath looks so happy as he eats with us.
My question comes without even thinking.
“Who are you usually here with?”
I shouldn’t ask questions so pointed. He’s a client and it’s confidentiality at all costs. But that’s the thing. I’ve a been a fan of Heath Mason for years, but even Google has virtually nothing to say about his personal life. Believe me, I’ve been digging.
It’s always speculation about partners in the news stories – hot co-stars on the red carpet, but nothing concrete. Nothing real. Not for all of the years I’ve been fangirling, anyway.
“Sorry, that’s none of my business,” I add, but Heath doesn’t flinch.
“Nobody comes here with me. You could say I’m quite the loner. Introverted.”
I get a pang at that. I don’t know why. Just the idea of Heath being a loner, when he could be surrounded by so many people. He’s an icon for millions.
“I do have a brother,” he says. “But he has a family up in Nottingham. We meet up occasionally, but we don’t really click as personalities.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Finlay is about as opposite from me as it gets. Not goth and certainly not bi.”
Fuck it. I keep the questions rolling.
“What about your parents?”
“They passed away nine years ago.”
Oh shit. That was before Nighttime Whispers started. They would never have seen Heath as the Count. I’m sure they would have been so proud.
He must read my face.
“No, they never saw it. They saw me in bit parts, and walk-ons, but I was already orphaned when I landed Whispers. I walked the red carpet alone for series one. Finn and Marlie didn’t accept the invitation to join me. They didn’t want the spotlight on their family.”
I swear I see a flash of sadness in Heath’s eyes, and I want to call his brother a wanker, but I’ve already overstepped the mark far enough.
Josh is casual on the lounger next to me. He doesn’t interrupt or join in, and I wonder how much he already knows about Heath. Far more than me, that’s for sure, but how much?
Josh will never tell me. His mouth might as well have a padlock on it when it comes to clients’ personal lives. Even Heath’s.
“Nighttime Whispers went to my head for a while,” Heath says. “Everyone wanted a piece of me once I hit the spotlight, and I bought into the bullshit. I was surrounded by friends, partying from dusk until dawn. Friends who wanted my cock as well as my company. And plenty more besides.”
“Plenty more? Wow. As if your cock and company wouldn’t be enough. What more could they possibly want from you?” I giggle, and take another slice of melon.
Heath looks at me almost wistfully. His smile is so stunning, it’s insane.
“Oh, Ella, how beautiful it is to see such a genuine soul. So sweet. So well meaning.”
Something clicks that I haven’t felt before around Heath. I’ve been such a fan for so long, that even here I’ve been holding him on some kind of celebrity pedestal without even realising it. The man looking at me isn’t the Count, or the groomed star of Whispers.
He’s just a guy.
A guy with a huge amount of wealth and prestige, yeah, but just a guy.
A loner.
“They wanted a lot more from me than my cock and company,” Heath says. “Try adding cash, contacts, celebrity status, leg-ups into the industry. People crying out to be on my arm in front of the cameras, with enough behind the scenes gossip to flog it to magazines for a decent payout.”