#reef hawk

When the message had come through, you'd done your usual minimal research. Just enough to know who was waiting for you in room 304.

Reef Hawk. The name rang a distant bell for you, like something you'd heard a few times a while back. Curiosity got the better of you. You quickly typed his name into Google and found what you were looking for.

Actor. Started as a kid and got big fast. The kind of name people either worship or get tired of hearing. It doesn't surprise you. You've gotten your fair share of washed up celebrities jumping into your DMs about your services. This kind of clientele was normal.

The hotel he chose isn't one of those places with flashing neon signs or a bustling lobby. It's quiet and understated, neatly tucked away on a side street that most people walk past without noticing.

The hallway carpet swallows the sound of your heels as you count down the room numbers.

307… 306… 305…

304.

You shoot a quick text to your bestie, letting her know the room number and client name before silencing your phone and tossing it into your purse.

Your knuckles hesitate before knocking gently, three times, the way you'd arranged.

The door opens and there he is. Taller than you'd expected, with those intense, dark eyes. The simple black hoodie and jeans he wore probably cost more than your rent, but were chosen to blend in.

"Hey," he says, voice softer than you'd imagined, "Thanks for coming."

You smile, "Of course."

Reef gestures for you to come in, and you step inside. He shuts the door behind you as you take in the room. It's bright, clean, and spacious with a view of the city lights beginning to sparkle against the darkening twilight. A bottle of whiskey sits unopened on the gold-trimmed coffee table, accompanied by two crystal glasses.

He stands awkwardly by the window, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Can I make you a drink?"

"I'm good, thanks," you place your bag on the obscenely white couch and turn to face him, "So, Reef. What made you reach out?"

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes.

"Just… needed some company."

"Company?" You ask, keeping your tone light, "That's all?"

Reef huffs a quiet breath. You can't tell if it's a laugh or a deflection. His gaze drifts past you, like it's safer to look at the tacky ornate vase on the runner table than at you.

"Yeah," he mutters, "That's kind of it."

You don't push.

Instead, you slowly move, sinking into the edge of the couch like you've got nowhere else to be. Time isn't something you have to worry about. You're paid for the night.

"That's easy," you say, offering a small, reassuring smile, "I'm good at just being around."

He gives you a quick, curious glance.

"Come sit with me," you add, "I promise I don't bite."

There's a flicker of hesitation before he moves. Reef crosses the room and sits, leaving a polite amount of space between you. Close enough to talk, far enough to feel safe. His hands come together loosely, fingers lacing and unlacing like he doesn't know what to do with them.

"Do you usually invite strangers out like this, or am I special?"

That gets a real reaction, a surprised smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Not usually," he admits, exhaling as his shoulders drop.

"Good," you hum, "I'd hate to think I'm just part of your weekly schedule."

You ease back into the couch, getting comfortable. You've seen this before. Even though you had regular clients, a good portion of them were first timers.

“Don’t think too hard about it,” you tell him. “We’ll keep it easy.”

Reef glances at you, like he's not sure what "easy" means in this context.

You gesture vaguely between the two of you.

"Talk, don't talk. Drink, don't drink. Sit here and look pretty," you shrug, "I'm flexible."

His eyes crinkle as he huffs out a laugh, the light from the chandelier sparkling in them.

"What's your speed tonight then, Mr. Hawk?"

Reef cringes at that, "Call me Reef. Everyone else does."

You nod, "Okay, Reef. Give me something."

He goes quiet, furrowing his brow. You give him a minute to think before you speak up again.

"You're gonna have to give me something eventually. Otherwise I'll start making stuff up about you, and you might not like my guesses."

Another laugh slips out of him.

"Yeah?" he says.

"Oh, absolutely! I'm already thinking…" you look him up and down, "you're secretly dramatic. Maybe a terrible sleeper. Definitely the type to stare at the ceiling at three in the morning like it's wronged you."

Reef shakes his head with a grin, but he's looking at you now.

"I guess that's not completely wrong."

"See?" you say, satisfied, "I'm good at this."

You let the moment settle as he leans forward to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He offers you a drink again, but you decline. Reef takes a sip, hissing quietly as it goes down.

"What kind of night were you having when you messaged me?"

Reef stares into his glass for a second, rolling it slightly between his fingers.

"Long one," he says, like that's enough of an explanation.

"Most people just sleep those off," you reply lightly, "Not book company."

His jaw tightens just a fraction.

"Yeah," he mumbles, taking a slow sip, "I've been… trying to stay clean."

The words come out rough, like they don't get used much out loud. You give him a small, knowing nod, trying not to make it seem like a big deal.

"Okay."

That seems to help. Reef lets out a breath, shoulders dipping as he leans forward, elbows braced on his knees.

"Five years. Which is–" he scoffs, shaking his head, "fucking crazy to even say out loud, 'cause it feels like it could go to hell in about five minutes if I let it."

You tilt your head slightly and ask, "Tonight one of those five minutes?"

He nods, "Yeah. It is."

His grip tightens around the glass before he sets it down on the table. He nervously rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

"I just didn't want to be alone with it."

"Alright," you say quietly, "How can I help?"

Reef leans back slightly and looks over at you, probably judging how honest he can afford to be.

"I need a distraction," he admits, "Something to keep my head from going there."

That, you can do.

You stand up, take a few steps toward him, and sit down beside him. You ease your way into his space until the careful distance he put between you starts to disappear.

Your hand comes to rest lightly on his thigh. He stills, but doesn't pull away. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. When you pull back, your voice drops slightly.

"I think I've got a few ideas. Depends on how distracted you're trying to be."

You grab a couple condoms from your purse and tug him gently to his feet. He follows you without hesitation, rising from the couch as you lead him across the room. The back of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and you give him a playful push, watching as he falls back with a soft bounce. Reef props himself up on his elbows, watching you with those curious, dark eyes.

You toss the condoms on the bed beside him, turn your back to him, and give him a view of your ass as you reach down to unhook your heels. You make a show of it, bending at the waist and arching your back just so.

One heel, then the other, is kicked off with a flick of your foot. You straighten up and turn to face him again, smiling as you reach for the hem of your dress.

The fabric whispers against your skin as you pull it up and over your head, letting it fall to the floor in a pool at your feet.

Now, you're standing before him in just your thong and thin, lace bra. His eyes trace the lines of your body while his hand palms the growing bulge in his pants.

"You look fucking incredible," he says with a sigh.

Dropping to your knees, the plush carpet cushions you as you crawl toward him. You stop between his legs and look up at him, placing your hands on his thighs. You can feel the heat of his skin through the denim of his jeans, muscles tensing slightly under your touch.

Slowly, you rub your hands upward, your fingers tracing the line of his zipper before you begin to undo his pants.

Reef watches you, his breathing shallow as you work his zipper down. His eyes are fixed on you, and for the first time tonight, you see something other than anxiety in them. Little flames of desire burn bright as you work on removing his clothing.

"You don't have to be nervous," you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes as you tug his jeans and boxers down together.

He's already hard when you free him, and you bite back a moan. You have seen a lot of dicks in your line of work, but his might be the prettiest one you've come across.

An inch or two above average and thick, his cock sits up perfectly, leading out from a dark patch of neatly trimmed hair. You wrap your hands around his length, stroking slowly as you lean in to press a kiss to his blushing tip. His breath hitches, hand coming down to rest gently on your head.

You take him into your mouth and he groans, tangling his fingers in your hair. You work him with practiced ease and watch as the tension completely melts from his body.

Reef all but whimpers when you unexpectedly pull away from him with a pop. You make up for it by slipping your thong off, and climbing onto the bed to straddle him. The lace of your bra rubs against his chest as you lean down to kiss him, deep and slow.

"Better?" you ask against his lips.

He nods, "Much better."

You lean back and reach to unhook your bra, tossing it aside before guiding his hands to your breasts. His thumbs brush over your nipples, growing more confident in how he touches you.

You rock against him and his hips rise to meet yours, creating a friction that has you both panting. The way his cheeks are flushed and his cock is leaking, you just have to get him inside of you.

You pause to ask, "Condom?"

He fumbles around, feeling across the comforter before grabbing one. Holding it up above his face, Reef attempts to open it before you place a hand on his and take over. You tear the packet open with your teeth. Tossing the foil away, you roll the condom onto him smoothly before positioning yourself above him.

"Ready?" you give him one last out.

Reef answers by surging up to kiss you again, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you down onto his cock. You both gasp. It takes a moment for you to adjust to the stretch before lifting yourself up.

Dropping back down, your hips quickly find a solid rhythm that has him cursing beneath you.

"Fuck," he groans, "Holy shit. You are so fucking tight."

The room fills with the sounds of your bodies moving together, soft moans and whispered encouragements. You want to chase your own pleasure, reaching for your clit, but this is about him.

His eyes are locked on yours. He's focused intently on you, so he catches the movement. Reef knows what you want. He lets go of your hip, licks his thumb and brings it down to rub against your clit.

"Oh, fuck, Reef," you moan, grabbing his arm to steady yourself.

Warmth builds in your core until it bursts, sending you over the edge and leaving you undone around him. Your walls tighten around him and he bucks up into you sloppily.

Reef throws his head back when he cums, squeezing his eyes shut as he shakes then tenses beneath you. He groans, mumbling the name "Savannah" before opening his eyes. You fight back the knot forming in your chest, something sharp and familiar twisting there before you push it down. You try to remember that this happens a lot and that it isn't personal.

You're giving him everything he paid for.

He looks at you apologetically. You give him a soft smile and carefully lift off of him, settling beside him to catch your breath. Reef slips the condom off, tying it and tossing it somewhere on the floor.

You choose to ignore that and start to head to the bathroom. Reef catches your wrist before you can move.

"I'm sorry," he quickly apologizes, "I didn't mean–"