Jayden Cross didn't usually lie about his age.
He lied about other things.
Intentions.
Feelings.
Names, sometimes.
But age?
That was new.
He adjusted the cuff of his cheap blazer as he stood outside Velvet Room, staring at the gold lettering above the entrance. The place screamed money. Private investors. Lawyers. Executives who drank top-shelf liquor and talked about mergers like it was foreplay.
Jayden didn't belong there.
Which was exactly why he went.
The bouncer barely looked at his ID before waving him in. Confidence did that. Posture. Eye contact. The subtle smirk that said I've been here before.
Inside, the lighting was low and dangerous. Soft jazz played under the hum of quiet conversations. Crystal glasses. Dark wood. Expensive perfume.
Jayden inhaled slowly.
He liked places like this. Not because he could afford them.
Because no one here knew he couldn't.
He walked to the bar, sliding onto a leather stool like he owned it.
"Whiskey," he said smoothly. "Neat."
He didn't even like whiskey.
But it sounded older.
The bartender nodded, pouring amber into crystal.
Jayden felt it before he saw it.
That shift in the air.
That subtle awareness when someone's gaze lingers too long.
He didn't turn immediately. Never did. He let it build. Let curiosity burn.
Then slowly, he glanced to his right.
And there he was.
Dark hair. Sharp jawline. Expensive black shirt with the top button undone just enough to suggest control, not carelessness. A silver watch resting against tan skin. Calm. Composed.
Older.
Not just physically.
Energy-wise.
The kind of man who didn't chase.
The kind who waited.
Jayden held his gaze.
Didn't smile.
Didn't look away.
The man's eyes flicked over him once — assessing before returning to his drink.
Interesting.
Jayden turned slightly on his stool. "You're staring."
The man didn't look offended.
"If I were staring," he replied evenly, "you would know."
His voice was low. Controlled. Educated.
Jayden's pulse shifted.
"I'd hope so," Jayden said lightly. "I don't respond to subtle."
A pause.
Then finally, the man turned fully toward him.
Up close, he was devastating. Early thirties, maybe mid. Clean lines. No wedding ring.
"Are you old enough to be here?" the man asked calmly.
There it was.
Jayden didn't hesitate.
"I'm twenty-four."
The lie slid off his tongue like silk.
The man studied him for a beat too long.
"And what do you do at twenty-four?"
"Finance," Jayden replied. "Consulting."
Another lie.
The man's eyebrow lifted slightly.
"Impressive."
Jayden leaned one elbow against the bar. "You don't believe me."
"I believe," the man said, taking a slow sip of whiskey, "that you enjoy being underestimated."
Jayden smiled.
Sharp.
"You don't?"
The man's gaze dropped briefly to Jayden's lips.
Then back to his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. "I don't."
That was when Jayden felt it.
Not attraction.
Challenge.
"What's your name?" Jayden asked.
The man considered.
"Roman."
Just Roman.
Jayden tilted his head. "That's it?"
"For now."
Smart.
Jayden extended his hand anyway. "Jay."
He didn't give his last name.
Roman didn't take his hand.
Instead, his gaze lingered on it before slowly lifting again.
"You don't seem like a Jay," Roman said.
"And you don't seem like someone who gives out half answers."
Roman's mouth twitched.
Not quite a smile.
"You're bold."
"I'm honest."
"That wasn't the question."
Jayden felt heat crawl up his spine.
This wasn't flirting.
This was verbal chess.
And Roman wasn't losing.
"Buy me another drink," Jayden said casually.
Roman signaled the bartender without breaking eye contact.
The second whiskey arrived.
Jayden didn't touch it.
Instead, he leaned closer.
"Are you always this quiet?"
"Only when I'm deciding."
"Deciding what?"
"If something is worth the complication."
The words landed heavy between them.
Jayden's heartbeat shifted.
"You think I'm complicated?"
"I think," Roman said softly, "you're pretending not to be."
That did it.
That tiny crack in Jayden's armor.
He laughed lightly to cover it. "You don't know anything about me."
Roman's gaze darkened.
"I know you're not twenty-four."
The world stilled for half a second.
Jayden didn't blink.
"And how do you know that?"
"Because twenty-four-year-olds don't try this hard."
Jayden swallowed.
Then leaned even closer.
"Maybe I just like older men."
There it was.
Clear.
Unapologetic.
Roman didn't flinch.
"How old are you, Jay?"
Jayden's fingers tightened around his glass.
Legal.
Adult.
But not what he claimed.
"Old enough," he said softly.
Roman's jaw flexed once.
He should walk away.
He knew that.
Jayden could see the calculation in his eyes.
Risk assessment.
Reputation.
Control.
But he didn't move.
Instead, Roman placed his drink down slowly.
"You should leave," Roman said.
Jayden's stomach dropped slightly.
Rejection wasn't common for him.
"Why?"
"Because I don't blur lines."
Jayden's pride flared.
"You haven't even touched me."
Roman's eyes darkened.
"That's the problem."
The air between them shifted.
He wasn't rejecting him.
He was restraining himself.
Jayden stood from the stool.
Closed the distance.
Now they were too close for polite conversation.
"Then don't blur," Jayden murmured. "Be clear."
Roman's hand came up not touching just hovering near Jayden's waist.
A silent question.
Jayden didn't step back.
Didn't hesitate.
Roman exhaled once.
Decision made.
"Come with me," he said quietly.
The hotel room was minimalist. Executive. Controlled.
Just like him.
Jayden stood near the window, city lights reflecting in the glass.
He could still walk away.
He didn't.
Roman approached slowly.
"Last chance," Roman said.
Jayden turned.
"Why are you giving me one?"
"Because you don't look like someone who's been given many."
That struck deeper than it should have.
Jayden stepped forward instead of answering.
Their proximity burned.
Roman's hand finally settled at Jayden's waist.
Firm.
Not hesitant.
Jayden inhaled sharply.
"This is where you decide," Roman said lowly.
Jayden looked up at him.
"I already did."
The kiss wasn't rushed.
It was measured.
Testing.
Controlled heat instead of wildfire.
Roman kissed like he did everything else deliberately.
Jayden responded like he lived reckless.
The contrast sparked.
Hands. Breath. Heat building.
Roman pushed him gently against the wall.
Not aggressive.
Claiming.
Jayden's fingers fisted into Roman's shirt.
For once, he didn't feel like he was performing.
He felt seen.
And that scared him more than anything.
Roman's mouth brushed his jaw.
"Tell me your real age."
Jayden hesitated.
Then:
"Twenty-one."
Silence.
Roman pulled back just slightly.
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
A long breath.
Legal.
Adult.
Still dangerous.
Roman's thumb brushed Jayden's cheek.
"You enjoy risks."
Jayden's lips curved.
"So do you."
That was the last clear thought before the night swallowed them whole.
Roman's hands moved from his waist, sliding down to cup his ass through his trousers, pulling him flush against the solid heat of his body. The friction was immediate, a delicious promise that made Jayden's head fall back against the wall with a soft thud. Roman took the opportunity to mouth a trail down the column of his throat, teeth scraping lightly over his pulse point.
"Bed," Roman commanded, his voice a low rumble against Jayden's skin.
He didn't give him a chance to comply, simply lifted him. Jayden's legs wrapped instinctively around Roman's waist, his arms looping around his neck as he was carried across the room. The world was a dizzying blur of city lights and the solid, unyielding strength of the man holding him.
He was dropped onto the mattress, bouncing once. Roman stood over him, his eyes dark and intense as he slowly, deliberately, unbuttoned his shirt. His chest was a work of art, all hard muscle and smooth skin, dusted with dark hair that tapered down into his trousers. Jayden's mouth went dry. He wanted to taste every inch.
He sat up, reaching for him, but Roman pushed him back down with a hand on his chest.
"Patience," he murmured, a ghost of a smile on his lips. He undid his belt, the leather whispering through the loops, and let his trousers fall.
Jayden's breath hitched. He was perfect. All hard lines and raw power. And he was hard, his cock thick and heavy, curving up towards his stomach.
Roman knelt on the bed, covering Jayden's body with his own. The weight of him was intoxicating. He pinned Jayden's wrists above his head with one hand, his other making quick work of the buttons on Jayden's shirt. He pushed the fabric aside, his gaze hot and possessive as he looked his fill.
"Beautiful," he breathed, before lowering his head to take a peaked nipple into his mouth.
Jayden cried out, arching into the wet heat. He'd never felt anything so intense. Roman1