a consideration. Who would pay fifty bucks to get blown through latex?
“I know where that is. How old are you, kid?” Leaning forward, Kyle turned the radio off and glanced over in time to see Jesse smirking at him. The boy turned so that his back leaned against the passenger door of the car, and he seemed to be amused by the question.
“How old do you want me to be, papi ?”
Kyle suppressed a smile. He liked the kid’s attitude and that smirk was sexy as fuck. Only the thought of being caught with an underage kid stopped him from playing the boy’s hot little game.
“No, I want you to tell me how old you are,” Kyle countered as he turned right onto Seventh and began to scan the street for a sign to the hotel.
“ Dieciocho …” he replied and wiped his palms on the threadbare jeans before translating. “Eighteen.”
Kyle chanced a glance at Jesse to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth. What he didn’t expect was for Jesse to pull his lower lip between his teeth. The gesture made him look even younger and more vulnerable. As he spotted the Phoenix out of the right side of the windshield, Kyle also noticed that beneath the thin tank top, the boy’s nipples were hard. Like little pebbles caught beneath the thin material, they were straining, almost begging, to be stroked. Silently, the older man hoped that the air conditioning in the room worked as well as it did in his car.
J ESSE Valdez wrapped his arms around himself as the old guy pulled into a space near the front entrance of the Phoenix. It wasn’t as if the place felt like home, but to be honest, he’d already been there twice that day. The first well-paying encounter was with a man who liked to be restrained and spanked while his partner watched. It was the only hotel in the neighborhood that would rent cheap rooms by the hour and not ask too many questions. The guy at the desk had to know something was up when Jesse showed up a couple of times a night with different guys and sometimes if he was really fucking lucky, a few girls. There wasn’t a huge call on the streets for a straight boy whore. Only when a guy had a place and a reputation could he get that kind of gig. Jesse knew he had the looks, poor little Latino boy, but while he was still making enough to help his sister Alicia with their rent, he was going nowhere.
It broke his heart each time his sister got into a car to go for a trick. Like him, she had no papers and couldn’t get a job that could pay the rent. The hustler who had brought them over the border had taken every bit of their money. Ten thousand dollars had been the going rate for smuggling illegals into the United States. It was money that Jesse, Alicia, and their mother had spent years saving. Their mother, Maria, had stayed behind in Mexico. He felt sick lying to her about his and his sister’s new lives but it would break her heart to know how they were living, and how much they missed their family. No one here cared if they lived or died—certainly not the old fuck next to him. He just wanted to fuck Jesse senseless. Jesse knew that he just had to close his eyes, let the gringo bottom out in his ass a few times, and it would all be over. This money would keep him and Alicia fed for the week. He couldn’t fuck it up.
The guy got out of the car and Jesse followed. He would have called out to him, asking him to wait near the vending machines rather than going into the office, but realized he didn’t know the older man’s name. It didn’t matter, because the guy had already started to go in that direction anyway. Jesse stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him dig for change before turning to enter the office. He saw the same bored desk clerk who had been there every night that week.
“Hey man, I need a room for an hour,” Jesse told him in the way of a greeting, pulling a battered twenty from his jeans. He’d learned long ago not to carry a wallet, not on those streets.
“Okay, it’s
“I know where that is. How old are you, kid?” Leaning forward, Kyle turned the radio off and glanced over in time to see Jesse smirking at him. The boy turned so that his back leaned against the passenger door of the car, and he seemed to be amused by the question.
“How old do you want me to be, papi ?”
Kyle suppressed a smile. He liked the kid’s attitude and that smirk was sexy as fuck. Only the thought of being caught with an underage kid stopped him from playing the boy’s hot little game.
“No, I want you to tell me how old you are,” Kyle countered as he turned right onto Seventh and began to scan the street for a sign to the hotel.
“ Dieciocho …” he replied and wiped his palms on the threadbare jeans before translating. “Eighteen.”
Kyle chanced a glance at Jesse to gauge whether or not he was telling the truth. What he didn’t expect was for Jesse to pull his lower lip between his teeth. The gesture made him look even younger and more vulnerable. As he spotted the Phoenix out of the right side of the windshield, Kyle also noticed that beneath the thin tank top, the boy’s nipples were hard. Like little pebbles caught beneath the thin material, they were straining, almost begging, to be stroked. Silently, the older man hoped that the air conditioning in the room worked as well as it did in his car.
J ESSE Valdez wrapped his arms around himself as the old guy pulled into a space near the front entrance of the Phoenix. It wasn’t as if the place felt like home, but to be honest, he’d already been there twice that day. The first well-paying encounter was with a man who liked to be restrained and spanked while his partner watched. It was the only hotel in the neighborhood that would rent cheap rooms by the hour and not ask too many questions. The guy at the desk had to know something was up when Jesse showed up a couple of times a night with different guys and sometimes if he was really fucking lucky, a few girls. There wasn’t a huge call on the streets for a straight boy whore. Only when a guy had a place and a reputation could he get that kind of gig. Jesse knew he had the looks, poor little Latino boy, but while he was still making enough to help his sister Alicia with their rent, he was going nowhere.
It broke his heart each time his sister got into a car to go for a trick. Like him, she had no papers and couldn’t get a job that could pay the rent. The hustler who had brought them over the border had taken every bit of their money. Ten thousand dollars had been the going rate for smuggling illegals into the United States. It was money that Jesse, Alicia, and their mother had spent years saving. Their mother, Maria, had stayed behind in Mexico. He felt sick lying to her about his and his sister’s new lives but it would break her heart to know how they were living, and how much they missed their family. No one here cared if they lived or died—certainly not the old fuck next to him. He just wanted to fuck Jesse senseless. Jesse knew that he just had to close his eyes, let the gringo bottom out in his ass a few times, and it would all be over. This money would keep him and Alicia fed for the week. He couldn’t fuck it up.
The guy got out of the car and Jesse followed. He would have called out to him, asking him to wait near the vending machines rather than going into the office, but realized he didn’t know the older man’s name. It didn’t matter, because the guy had already started to go in that direction anyway. Jesse stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him dig for change before turning to enter the office. He saw the same bored desk clerk who had been there every night that week.
“Hey man, I need a room for an hour,” Jesse told him in the way of a greeting, pulling a battered twenty from his jeans. He’d learned long ago not to carry a wallet, not on those streets.
“Okay, it’s
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