Chapter 4: Had Enough Kissing?

Chapter 4: Had Enough Kissing?

"Had enough of that kiss?"

The man's deep, magnetic voice made Chu Yan spring back as if on wires. His hand, which had been pressed against the muscular male model's chest, swiftly withdrew as he stumbled backward several steps—only to crash into the wall behind him.

"Ow—"

Fu Junhang reacted instantly, cushioning the back of Chu Yan's head with his palm to prevent a painful collision. But this motion brought him leaning even closer to Chu Yan, and so...

"Ow~"

Chu Yan's forehead bumped against the man's chin, prompting him to instinctively raise a hand to rub the sore spot.

Damn it, why did he have to be so tall?

Off-balance, Chu Yan unconsciously arched his back, causing the man's other hand to naturally settle on the small of his back—his thumb pressing against Chu Yan's tailbone while his palm molded to the swell of his backside.

Chu Yan's heart raced wildly, an indescribable tingling sensation spreading through his body. He nearly went weak at the knees and slid to the floor.

This was insane! What kind of cheesy romance novel cliché was this?!

Just then, the hand on his lower back exerted a slight pressure, pulling Chu Yan flush against the man's chest. From this angle, Chu Yan's gaze landed directly on the man's prominent Adam's apple as it bobbed.

A familiar scent washed over him, overwhelming his senses in an instant.

A flood of R-rated images surged into Chu Yan's mind. His breath came in short gasps, his whole body locking up in place.

"Young Master Chu, what are you so flustered about?"

The man's teasing voice drifted down from above, laced with amusement. But Chu Yan was too panicked to notice. He desperately leaned back, trying to put distance between them, only to find himself trapped against the wall. He could only brace his hands behind him for support.

"Hey, you—get away from me first."

Warm breath, mingled with the lingering scent of his shampoo, brushed lightly against Fu Junhang's neck. Whether it was because Chu Yan's hair had tickled his chin earlier or not, the sensation made his gaze turn smoky with intent.

"Young Master is so cruel. That night, you didn’t say that. You begged me to hold you tighter, and you even said—"

"Stop, stop, stop! Don’t say another word!"

Fu Junhang's fox-like eyes turned razor-thin, dangerously. Chu Yan tilted his head back, meeting that unfairly handsome face mere inches away. The man looked down at him, the corners of his lips curling into a wolfish grin, like a wolf eyeing its prey.

Chu Yan's pulse hammered. The man's shameless words made his cheeks flame.

Clearly, they both recognized each other. But Chu Yan, all bark and no bite, was too guilty to meet his gaze. He was the one paying good money here, yet he couldn’t muster any authority over that damn hundred bucks. What to do, what to do...

Just then, the ignored male model finally reasserted his presence, flexing his bulging muscles in dissatisfaction.

"Hey, who the hell are you? You can’t just poach my mark like this. First come, first served—ever heard of it?"

Fu Junhang's gaze finally shifted to the model's bulging chest muscles—where Chu Yan's hand had been moments ago.

"So, Young Master likes this type, huh?"

His tone held a jealous edge, but Chu Yan was too busy drowning in guilt to notice. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the eye, though he instinctively denied the teasing accusation.

"No way! That’s not—don’t put words in my mouth!"

"Hmm?" Unlike Chu Yan's flustered state, the man’s voice dripped with lazy amusement.

Chu Yan swallowed hard. "If I said... he was the one who pulled my hand onto his chest, would you believe me?"

Fu Junhang arched a brow. "What do you think?"

Too close. The man's voice was sinfully smooth, and paired with the R-rated images replaying in his mind, Chu Yan felt like he couldn’t breathe. Thankfully, the man finally withdrew his hand from Chu Yan's waist.

Chu Yan hastily sidestepped away.

His heart was pounding. Was this the so-called "what you dwell on will come back to you"? He hadn’t expected to actually run into this man again.

The male model, once again sidelined, grew even more displeased. He puffed out his chest, his pumped-up muscles jiggling obscenely in front of Chu Yan and Fu Junhang. Chu Yan half-expected the man's chest muscles to burst through his shirt buttons at any second—right into his face.

"What’s wrong with me? The young master’s into me, got a problem with that?"

The competition among escorts was cutthroat. He’d never seen this man before—sure, he was handsome, but tastes varied. What if the client preferred his style?

But Chu Yan waved his hands frantically. "No, no, I don’t. Not at all."

"How could you not?"

The male model refused to back down. "Young Master, you said something different in the private room. You said you liked broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and an eight-pack. You even said you wanted to touch my abs—"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!"

Chu Yan’s head spun. Sure, he liked eight-packs, but not if they came with zero brain cells. God, did you trade your brain for extra reps?!

Someone, save me! Chu Yan felt like he’d never been this embarrassed in both his lifetimes combined.

Fu Junhang, however, couldn’t help but chuckle lowly.

This was mortifying. Peak humiliation.

But then, Chu Yan had a sudden flash of inspiration—a Hail Mary play. He grabbed Fu Junhang’s arm and turned to the male model.

"Your chest is too big. I don’t like it. Look at him—" Chu Yan pushed Fu Junhang forward slightly, pointing at his chest. "This is my type. Not too big, not too small. Just right."

Fu Junhang’s lips curled upward without restraint, a reaction even he didn’t notice.

The male model, however, grew even more indignant. "How do you know his chest is 'just right'? How can you be sure his feels better than mine?"

Fu Junhang was dressed in a black tailored shirt that fit him impeccably, exuding an air of untouchable elegance. The top two buttons were undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbones and adding a dash of reckless appeal. Now, he looked at Chu Yan with an amused, questioning glint in his deep, bottomless dark eyes—as if waiting for his answer.

Chu Yan couldn’t meet his gaze, his face flushing hotter by the heartbeat, his ears burning crimson.

Wait a minute—he was the customer here! The one paying good money here! What was he so afraid of? Chin up! Act confident!

Chu Yan suddenly straightened, impulsively pressing his hand against Fu Junhang’s chest.

He gave it a squeeze, then a pinch. "See? Not too big, not too small. Just right. This is what I like."

Hmm. Solid. Springy. Perfect handful.

Chu Yan didn’t notice the darkening of Fu Junhang’s eyes at his actions. He just wanted the male model to stop showing off already.

But the model wasn’t about to give up on such a high-rolling looker. He argued, "Young Master, how can you know mine doesn’t feel better unless you try?"

"But he’s a bargain compared to you!" Chu Yan blurted out.

Fu Junhang’s smirk died a sudden death.

"Cheap? This little idiot called him cheap?"

The muscular male model didn't expect this either. The man before him was handsomer than any of his peers he'd ever seen, exuding an innate nobility and extraordinary charisma. He was also taller—outmatched in every aspect. The only advantage the model thought he had was a lower price, but now it turned out this guy was even cheaper? That was just too much.

"Is he really cheaper than me?" The muscular model asked skeptically.

"Much cheaper," Chu Yan nodded firmly. "The bang for your buck is amazing."

Fu Junhang's jaw clenched inexplicably tight, nearly laughing out of sheer frustration.

"Bro, you're taking the undercutting too far. This is market disruption."

In the end, the muscular model left, cursing under his breath.

Chu Yan let out a sigh of relief, though his heart was bleeding. Revenge spending was truly a bad idea—just like that, fifty grand down the drain.

"Young master seems regretful. Should I call him back?"

"Forget it."

Chu Yan looked dejected. He wasn't one to let loose easily, but then again, wasn’t the real reason he'd come here precisely for the man before him?

Once you've had a taste of the good stuff, there’s no going back to vegetables. And since his first meal was so lavish, he was here to splurge and enjoy—no way was he lowering his standards to accommodate others.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Chu Yan reached out and hooked his arm around the man’s neck, pulling him closer. The tall man leaned in again, and Chu Yan instantly switched into the persona of a "wealthy playboy heir." Tilting his head back, he met the man’s gaze.

"Handsome, are you booked for tonight?"

They were so close their breaths mingled, indistinguishable as to whose was hotter or shakier. Chu Yan tugged the man closer, then lifted a slender, pale finger to trace the perfect line of his jaw.

"If not, you're mine tonight."

The soft pad of his finger left a lingering touch along that flawless jawline, and both their bodies trembled imperceptibly for a moment. Chu Yan almost chickened out and run, but thanks to his acting skills, he just managed to keep up his flirty act.

Nervous and merely putting on a rich kid act, Chu Yan didn’t notice the momentary look of shock in the man’s eyes at his words.

*Book him? What is this moron talking about?*

Without waiting for an answer, Chu Yan pressed on, "But even if someone’s already booked you, it’s fine. I’ll pay double. Spend tonight with me, okay?"

Secretly, Chu Yan recalled his online research before coming here. Top-tier male models cost a million per night—that was the price for sleeping together, of course. Without that, the price would drop significantly, like the ten-thousand-per-night ones earlier. The 'extras' cost extra, which was why they’d been so eager to show off their goods to Chu Yan.

Then again, when the prize is right there, why not take a bite? Even at a million per night, he could still afford eight or nine nights.

*Christ, this really drains the wallet.*

As he mused, his fingertip slowly brushed against the man’s slightly thin upper lip.

His features gave off a standoffish, almost dangerous air, so Chu Yan had assumed his lips would be colder than most. Yet they were warm—and soft. His fingertip pressed down slightly, and his mind uncontrollably flashed back to the hazy memory of being kissed by those lips that night.

Chu Yan’s voice was naturally pleasant, and in this world, he was just a nineteen-year-old youth. Beneath his forced composure lurked a tremble of nervousness, making his voice took on an unintentionally sweet, tempting quality. Though his eyes still betrayed barely hidden nerves, to Fu Junhang’s ears, it was nothing but endless temptation.

The images from that night surged back into Fu Junhang’s mind, making his blood run hot instantly. His hands once again settled on the youth’s slender waist. But through Chu Yan’s words, Fu Junhang finally pieced together this ridiculous mix-up.

It seemed he—Fu Junhang—had been mistaken by this notoriously ill-reputed fake young master of the Chu family as some bottom-rung sex worker.

*Him, Fu Junhang, selling his body for meager earnings… a male model?*

And a dirt-cheap one at that—worth only a hundred bucks a night.

*Hah…*

"Well? Are you up for it or not?"

Chu Yan was starting to waver. This guy looked expensive, and impulsive spending was a bad idea.

*Why did I have to blurt out "double"? What if I can’t afford him? That’d be humiliating as hell.*

"Forget it if not."

But Fu Junhang grabbed his retreating hand and leaned in even closer.

"Young master Chu is truly generous. So, double would be… two hundred?"

*Gah!*

Chu Yan froze on the spot, he cringed so hard he could've dug a hole through the floor with his toes.