As the hustler cinched the seat belt into place, he asked, “You have a name you want me to use? Or just my own?”
Teabag,that voice in Will’s head whispered, but he shook it away. No. Tea was gone. Now that the car had hit a decent speed, Will cranked the radio back up again, and shouted to be heard over the music. “Your own.”
“Corey. I don’t like to bring this up, but do you want to hear my price list? Or do you have something specific in mind?”
Will hated this part. For a moment, he considered pulling over, dumping the guy out on his ass on the street, let him hike it back to his friends and bitch about the trick who dicked him over. But until Corey had spoken to him, Will hadn’t realized how alone he felt. How much he wanted this guy’s touch, how much he neededit. Even if it cost him.
Without taking his eyes off the road, he hoped he sounded nonchalant when he asked, “You dobottom, right?”