"Any questions?" Matt asked nonchalantly, as if all he'd just said was normal.
A few million, Liam thought to himself.
Liam was from a small town that people couldn't find on a map on their first try. He'd spent his entire life in a place no larger than two football fields, surrounded by farmland until the eye could see. Liam hated it. He spent the first half of his day at school, being taught by educators who were as clueless as his classmates, and the next few hours working his parents' fields. Liam was not dumb. To the contrary, he was sharp, but he never felt challenged by the world around him.
He hated every aspect of his life and his hometown, save for one oasis: the gym. It was the only place where he felt entirely like himself, where he could push his limits, and the one thing he looked forward to every single day. Liam had started training at sixteen, pouring his entire monthly allowance into memberships and supplements, and exhausting his internet data on training videos.
By twenty, the labor of the fields and the intensity of the iron had built him like a bull. He stood tall at 6'3". His face was lean and long, his jawline sharp enough to cut a diamond. His neck was thick and corded, leading down to a broad back and shoulder blades strong enough to crush rock. Underneath his shirts was a carved, symmetrical grid of abdominal muscle and heavy, powerful pectorals. The physical labor had left his hands large and intensely veiny, and his legs resembled columns of sheer power. Liam had poured his focus into two areas of his body, and the results were nothing short of magnetic: his chest and his glutes. His low back curved into a rear that was firm, sculpted, and devastatingly smooth—a flawless, compact arch that demanded attention. Above, his chest anchored his frame with a heavy, broad definition. His pectorals were the very definition of power, beautifully chiseled and radiating a raw, effortless strength.
Longing to escape, Liam moved to the big city to attend University the moment he got the chance. There, he reveled in his newfound freedom. He joined a frat, went on drinking sprees, played every game imaginable, and slept around like there was no tomorrow.
Having lived his first two decades in isolation, the summer months working with farmhands and the winter months cleaning lonely barns had left him yearning for comfort and warmth. His first sexual trysts had actually begun with his companions on the farm. Going to University, however, Liam wanted to hide this. He was terrified that his jock image would be destroyed. With his old life in the rearview mirror, he assumed those secret encounters were too.
But University life lost its luster fast. Years of mediocrity had numbed him. No classes interested him. In just seven months, he had changed majors thrice. The only thing that kept his focus was the gym, and he was terrified he would lose interest in that, too. Unwilling to let that happen, he decided to withdraw from college to pursue a career as a personal trainer.
On the day he went to finalize his withdrawal, a classmate urged him to attend a small campus fundraiser in the ballroom. Figuring a fancy, free meal was a no-brainer, Liam decided to go. He squeezed his massive frame into his best—and only—suit, the fabric straining tightly against his broad shoulders and thick thighs, and walked to the ballroom expecting nothing from the night.
Liam stood near the edge of the fundraiser's crowded room, a cocktail napkin in one hand and a rogue meatball in the other, when his gaze was entirely arrested by Matt.
Matt didn’t just wear a suit; he inhabited it with an effortless, striking presence that made him look less like a modern professional and more like a classical masterpiece momentarily granted life. At 6'5", he was the physical embodiment of an Adonis, every line of his frame sculpted with flawless, commanding symmetry. As he moved through the room, his easy smile seemed to act as a natural gravity, drawing the attention of everyone he passed.
Then, that gravity shifted toward Liam. Matt walked over, offering a crisp, warm hand.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Matt."
"Hi..." Liam managed, his brain short-circuiting slightly as he openly gawked at the man's sheer, unreal beauty.
"And you are?" Matt prompted gently, a hint of amusement in his dark eyes.
"Liam. Yeah, sorry. Uh... Liam. Nice to meet you," he stammered, feeling the sudden, prickly heat of embarrassment flush across his face.
"Enjoying university?"
"I'm actually thinking about withdrawing," Liam blurted out, the honesty slipping past his defences before he could stop it.
Matt tilted his head, his expression softening into genuine curiosity. "Why is that?"
"It just... it doesn't seem like the same place it was a few months ago."
"I think you should wait it out," Matt said, his voice carrying a quiet weight of experience. "University can be full of surprises. Trust me, I'd know. Best of luck, Liam."
With that same magnetic smile, Matt vanished back into the crowd, leaving Liam blinking in his wake.
Later that evening, a passing waiter filled in the blanks, turning Liam's awe into outright disbelief. Matt wasn't just a successful alumnus; he was a self-made billionaire. In the mere three years since his own graduation, he had donated the very ballroom they were standing in, along with half a dozen other buildings on campus. He had already founded three tech unicorns and was reportedly on the cusp of birthing a fourth. He was only twenty-six.
Duly humbled and thoroughly intrigued, Liam decided to take the billionaire's advice. He would hold off on dropping out, at least for a few days.
It proved to be the smartest decision of his life. When Liam woke up the following morning, an email was waiting for him. The sender address read The Office of Matt Grayson, and the content inside requested a formal meeting to discuss a potential job opportunity. It was, without a doubt, the most exhilarating piece of mail Liam had received since his university acceptance letter.
Scrambling out of bed, he showered quickly, threw on his suit, and practically flew out the door toward Matt’s corporate headquarters.
Matt's office sat on the 76th floor, a smooth one-minute elevator ride into the sky. Walking into the lobby, Liam was immediately struck by how polished everything looked. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting off marble floors and sleek chrome accents. A massive abstract sculpture stood in the center of the space, surrounded by carefully arranged greenery.
Behind a curved reception desk sat a young woman typing on a tablet. She looked up as Liam approached, offering a practiced, professional smile.
"Good morning Mr. Carter. "
Liam smiled back, leaning casually against the desk. "Good Morning," he said, glancing at her desk. "It's beautiful day isn't it. So is this lobby."
She raised an eyebrow. "Well, the lobby appreciates the compliment."
"Only the lobby?" Liam asked. "That's disappointing."
The receptionist donned a sly smile despite herself. "Matt's expecting you."
"You know, I was hoping I'd have a little more trouble getting past security," Liam teased. "Maybe impress someone."
"Trust me," she said, not missing a beat, "the quickest way to impress me is to arrive on time for your meetings."
"Ouch."
"You'll survive." A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she gestured toward a sofa on the far side of the reception area.
Liam nodded. "Thank you. It was nice to meet you."
"If only I could say the same."
Chuckling, Liam sat down. A few moments later, her intercom buzzed. She looked up. "Matt will see you now."
"Thank you. Wish me luck."
"You'll need it," she said, leaving Liam with a faintly puzzled feeling as he walked toward the heavy double doors.
Liam entered the office and found Matt looking just as dapper and commanding as he had the night before. Matt rose from his desk and walked over with an extended hand.
"Liam. Good to see you."
"Likewise," Liam said, feeling unusually sheepish around the man.
"Would you like something to drink?"
"I'm good. Thank you. The email mentioned there was a job offer?"
"Right to the point. I like that in a man. Please, sit and we'll talk." Matt gestured toward a pair of plush leather sofas.
They sat across from one another. Matt carries himself with a grace that would put a Greek god to shame, while Liam sat stiff with anticipation, his large frame filling out the couch.
"So, Liam. The job I'm about to offer you is unlike anything you would've been offered or even thought about before. It's something most would consider inappropriate, vulgar, and perhaps even insulting or objectifying. I assure you that I have no such intentions, and view this as a purely commercial transaction—an exchange of capital for physical pleasure. Do I have your assurance that you won't freak out or file a sexual harassment claim against me?"
Liam's heart did a sudden flip. "Yes. I promise," he said quickly, before his brain could catch up. Then, doubt crept in. "Pleasure? Sexual harassment claims?"
"Yes. You're a first-year undergraduate, Liam, with no discernible corporate skills. Your intellect, while existent, is currently analogous to a lump of unbaked clay and adds no possible value to my enterprises."
"Fair," Liam said, a mix of embarrassment and confusion crossing his face. "How do you know all that?"
"I have my sources. The job I'm offering requires you to use your greatest asset for an activity that is certain to give us both an immense amount of pleasure."
"I'm confused. My greatest asset?"
"Your body, my dear. That is your greatest asset, wouldn't you say?" Matt asked, putting a deliberate, wicked emphasis on the word asset with a flashing, naughty smile.
"My body?"
"You are understandably confused, Liam. I am making a proposition. A very enticing proposition. I pay you an enormous amount of money to fuck me."
"WHAT?!" Liam whispered, his voice cracking in sheer shock.
"Don't be so startled. As I said, it is an unusual proposition and one that perhaps catches you off guard, for which I apologize."
"Thanks, I guess."
"The present situation, as I see it, is rather simple," Matt explained smoothly, leaning back. "You are looking for a new direction in life and are short on capital, possessing a body I intend to feast upon. I, on the other hand, have an obscene amount of money, cannot get a good night's sleep without an orgasm, and require a muscular presence in my bed and a thick cock up my ass to achieve it. This solves both of our problems."
Matt stood up, calmly buttoning his suit jacket.
"Any questions?" Matt asked nonchalantly, as if all he'd just said was normal.
A few million, Liam thought to himself.
He cleared his throat. "Why did you think I was into guys? And... I never imagined a billionaire would use those exact words."
"We are discussing a transaction for your body, Liam. There is no room for polite euphemisms," Matt replied. "As to the former, I knew it the first time I spotted you from across that ballroom. And I have my ways of confirming" he said in an ominous tone.
"So you're gay?" Liam asked, squinting his eyes. Truthfully, he wasn't offended by the proposition at all. He was deeply flattered that a man as breathtakingly sexy and powerful as Matt—someone he already had a massive crush on—wanted him.
"Why put a label to it? I fuck who I want, get fucked by whomever I choose, and exactly when I want."
"Respect."
"So?" Matt asked, pinning him with a gaze.
Liam stood up closing the distance between them. He looked up straight into the billionaire's enticing eyes. "I'm a top. I ain't taking dick."
Matt didn't flinch. If anything, his eyes darkened with anticipation. "Excellent. I need a cock up my ass."
"How much will you pay me?"
"Five thousand dollars a night should work. Exclusive of travel and grooming, of course."
Liam's jaw nearly dropped. "That pays off my yearly tuition in like, twenty days."
"Seventeen," Matt corrected automatically.
"Yeah. And grooming?"
"Yes. If you're fucking me, I want you looking exactly how I specify."
"Uh-huh. I guess I'm in."
"Great! You'll have to fuck me any which way I like. Rough, soft, quick, or prolonged. And with kissing. A lot of it. Trish will fill you in on the details," Matt said, offering a hand to finalize the deal.
Instead of a handshake, Liam closed the final inches between them, stepping into Matt’s space. He had to look up just a fraction, but he didn’t hesitate to pull the taller, flawlessly sculpted billionaire flush against his chest. Liam tilted his head back slightly and went in for a sensual, commanding kiss. Their tongues briefly battled for dominance before Liam pulled back an inch, keeping his hands anchored tightly around Matt’s waist to hold the larger man in place. Giving Matt’s remarkably firm butt a possessive squeeze, Liam lowered his voice into a sultry, seductive growl: "I can't wait to get in that ass."
Matt reached down, his large, perfectly sculpted hand wrapping around Liam’s hard cock. He gave a slow, deliberate tug, feeling the thick length pulse, harden, and stretch further against his palm. Looking down at Liam with a heavy, hooded gaze, Matt replied in a low, matching rumble: "I can't wait to let this ruin me."
They shared one more brief, intense kiss before Matt pulled back and said "see you soon."
Liam walked towards the door and opened the door.
"Liam," Matt called out.
"Yeah?" Liam looked back over his shoulder.
Matt's expression was deadpan, completely devoid of the warmth from a moment ago. "I'm in charge every single time. Whether your cock is in my ass or not, I am in charge. Remember that."
Liam swallowed hard, the weight of the billionaire's authority hitting him full-force. "Sure."
Liam walked out into the lobby, where the receptionist was already waiting with a sleek, heavy folder in her hand.
"Trish, I presume?" Liam said, remembering Matt's words.
"Indeed," she said, handing it over without a hint of surprise. "You'll have your weekly meetups with Matt every Monday at six o'clock at his downtown penthouse. A private driver will pick you up from wherever you are. You'll need to be at the penthouse and ready before Matt arrives and Matt is always on time. You are required to get a haircut and shave every Sunday with Matt's personal barber—just go to the address inside and give your name. Your body must be entirely smooth; no armpit hair and your pubes are not to exceed three millimeters in length. You will take a shower at the penthouse before Matt arrives. Moisturize, clip your nails, comb your hair and put on your clothes. Don't be naked. Matt will like to see you get naked. And wear a fresh pair of black boxer briefs every time you meet him. No other color and no other pattern."
Liam blinked, stunned by the sheer corporate efficiency of his new sex life.
"Any clothes you might need or that Matt requires you to wear, including the underwear, and any other grooming products will be paid for with a corporate credit card. " Trish continued smoothly. "Your payment will be issued via wire transfer the morning after Matt leaves the penthouse. For any incidentals, use the card. Furthermore, you will undergo a mandatory STD screening every Saturday by Matt's private physician. All the numbers, the key to the penthouse, the credit card and everything I just told you is in the file."
"I highly suggest you do not have sex or masturbate over the weekend. Your job is not complete, and you do not get paid, until Matt climaxes at least twice during the time he spends with you. Any questions?"
"None," Liam said, a look of pure amazement on his face. "You're incredibly comprehensive."
"I'm paid very well to be."
"See you Monday then."
"If things go right, we're never seeing each other again," Trish replied smoothly.
Liam smirked, leaning against her desk again. "Really? What don't I have?"
Trish looked up from her tablet, her face entirely deadpan. "You have a little too much between your legs for my liking."
"Oh," Liam realized, a chuckle escaping him. "Best of luck with that then."
"I don't need it. You will," she said, giving him a final, knowing look. "Use the credit card. Get a few energy drinks. Hit the gym hard this weekend. You're going to need it for Monday."
"Why?"
"He's not easy. Best of luck, Liam Carter. Make Matt happy."
"Thanks, Trish," Liam said. He turned and walked toward the elevator, the heavy folder tucked under his arm, his mind already racing toward Monday night.
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