Lost Boy

Chapter 2

Carlisle POV

The warm sunshine bathed my face as I was slowly roused from slumber. A pleasant way to start the morning, especially after the night I'd just had. Edward had been magnificent, with a body to rival any of the other men I had ever bedded. The man was sexy beyond belief, but more than that, I felt we had really connected. Of course, Edward probably hadn't felt the same; this was a job to him, right? But last night…it had to be different. There was no way Edward's other customers treated him the way I did.

That was the first time I ever picked up a prostitute, and it worried me a little how easy it was. I hadn't even ever considered doing such a thing, but after the news I got at work earlier that day, it seemed like the only thing to do. There was a Sword of Damocles hanging over me, and I was about to lose everything I'd worked so hard for. I wanted to do something crazy and reckless, something where I could control the outcome. Of course, it didn't quite end up as the encounter I had planned.

The weight of the world felt like it was on my shoulders that night. The future of the merger was in my hands. I chose and groomed the McAllister company for its eventual take-over, wined and dined them, tried to convince them to let me buy them out and farm out our people to their locations, while paying them handsomely and keeping their family business name. When Liam finally agreed to the merger, I couldn't believe my luck.

Now, it was only three days until I was to introduce him to the Board of Directors, and he decided to bail on the deal. He was supposed to sign the contract after meeting with the Board and getting their approval, so there was absolutely nothing to tie him to us. I would be left to appear foolish in front of my boss, my father, having to admit that I'd lost the account I'd worked for months on. I would surely be fired, my place in the family business given to my father's weaselly right hand man Jenks. This was my one chance to prove myself, and I'd blown it.

The dread over losing my inheritance and the general feeling of hopelessness led me down the seedier side of Sunset Boulevard that night. It was the kind of area where you keep your doors locked and your eyes on the road if you know what's good for you. Petty thieves, drug addicts, prostitutes. The kind of place I would normally avoid, but felt compelled to go to in that moment. I needed to feel alive, feel the adrenaline pumping through every vein. I didn't know what I was looking for exactly; my gaze fell on anyone who happened to be on the street. There was a gaggle of call girls, not selling themselves, but gossiping on the stoop of a ramshackle apartment building. Their large, probably false breasts were popping out of what passed for scraps of clothing. I frowned in disgust. Not what I was looking for.

While I rolled up to a stop light, I spotted a drug deal going down in the shadows of an alley. I watched them as they carried out their business, and apparently lost myself for a moment, because then someone was leaning on their horn behind my car. Tires squealed, and the car peeled out into the lane for oncoming traffic, zipping by me. Fucking impatient L.A. assholes.

I continued down Sunset Boulevard and eventually spotted male prostitutes hanging out on corners. Now this I could get down with. I hadn't been with anyone since I broke up with Paul, and fucking away my troubles sounded like exactly what I needed. All the guys looked young and fairly dirty, with furtive, blinking eyes. I would definitely be risking disease or a robbery with one of those guys.

Then, a car pulled away from its parking spot and there he was. A boy with a shock of reddish-brown hair and a lean swimmer's body stood leaning against a lamppost, smoking a cigarette. His tight, white wife beater rode up from the waistband of his torn-in-all-the-right-places denim shorts, revealing lily white skin and a hint of his happy trail. His sandals screamed 'free-spirit'. I pulled over without thinking. The boy took notice right away. He couldn't see me because the windows were tinted, but I could see him admiring the car. Don't you love how people always forget that the tinted windows don't work both ways and you can still see them? I chuckled to myself—I could tell by the look on his face that he felt he'd hit the jackpot with me tonight.

He sidled up to the car and rapped on the passenger window. When I rolled it down, he must have liked what he saw, because his smile reached his eyes as he asked if I wanted a date. Without hesitation, I said yes and he got in the car. The minute I started driving us back to my hotel, I started freaking out in my head. What the hell was I doing? Do people take hookers back to their hotels or do they just fuck in their cars? Was it weird that I was doing this? Oh, fuck it, the whole thing was weird. What the hell was I thinking?

I panicked all the way to the hotel. The silence was awkward for me, but the guy didn't seem to mind. Despite my obvious discomfort, I couldn't help the painful hard-on I sported. I'm sure the kid noticed—his hand was on my thigh, and I swear I saw him look at my lap, wearing a self-satisfied smile. Finally, we got there, but he was hardly dressed inconspicuously. I gave him my coat and ushered him through the lobby quickly, but hopefully not so quickly as to draw notice to us.

When we got to my room, he was awed. He looked around the room with the wonder of a child, like he'd never been in a suite before. Maybe he hadn't. What did I know? But he did seem, from what little we'd said to each other, like he was only doing this to make money for whatever it was he needed, and once he got it, he would leave this life behind. He was cleaner and more coherent than the others I'd seen; there must be something more to him. His child-like wonder was endearing, and suddenly, it didn't seem right to just fuck him anymore. And I no longer wanted that. I made love to that boy; not just taking what I wanted, but making sure he enjoyed it too. I could tell that he did. When he got up to leave, I told him to stay. It just blurted out of my mouth. I didn't think he would do it, and he did hesitate before he climbed back into bed. He snuggled against me and as I fell asleep, I thought I could get used to this.

Not ready to open my eyes to the sun just yet, I felt for Edward on the other side of the bed. I opened my eyes when I felt only sheets.

"Edward?" I wandered over to the bathroom and peeked in, but he wasn't there. Next, I checked the lounge.

"Edward?"

There was no trace of him. My wallet was lying open on top of the piano though. I was surprised to find that Edward hadn't taken all of the money inside. He only took what he was owed. I knew then that he wasn't born on the streets. What he was doing was due to a stroke of bad luck. I knew I was being awfully hopeful in my assessment of his life, but I didn't care. I wanted to believe good things of Edward. Maybe I just wanted to justify taking a prostitute back to my room. He wasn't some filthy thief. It seemed like his tough exterior was just a facade. Underneath, he was vulnerable, maybe even a little wet behind the ears. He wasn't like the others. That made it better, right?

I was stunned to find myself rationalizing my little tryst and even more so to discover that I was actually disappointed that Edward snuck off in the night. I thought he had as good a time as I did. But hustling is a job to him, isn't it? Of course he was never going to stay. But his reactions seemed too real to be an act. No, he had enjoyed what I did to him. I wished he was still here so I could run my hands along his smooth, warm skin, watch his face twist with pleasure as his body wrapped around me oh-so-tightly while I try to coax a kiss out of him. I wondered what he'd taste like, how his lips would feel against mine, whether his tongue would come out to duel or caress.

Shaking my head to clear my daydream, I chastised myself for being so silly. He was never going to kiss me; he was only in it for the money. The fact I'd made him feel good too was a nice bonus for him, but when I asked him to stay, his hesitation was clear. He probably only stayed until I fell asleep out of pity. Foolish Carlisle, to fantasize about anything more.

Never in the ten years since she passed had I ever been glad that my mother was dead. If she ever learned I paid for sex, it would have killed her. My father would probably pat me on the back and call me a big man. Men have needs, he would say. But I wasn't about to tell him and ruin my carefully constructed image. I wanted to be Alistair Cullen's exact opposite. I needed him to know that when I took over the company, I wasn't going to run it with an iron fist...it would be a more collaborative effort.

Sitting down at the desk in the lounge, I ordered some coffee, bacon, and eggs from room service while I waited for the laptop to boot up. When I opened my email, Liam McAllister's itinerary stared back at me. An itinerary now obsolete. Fucking McAllister... aborting the deal with no notice. This was going to make me look bad in the eyes of my father, and make the company l was trying to merge with seem untrustworthy. If I could just buy a little time, maybe I could convince Liam McAllister to come back into the fold and agree to the merger. I just needed to figure out a way to sweeten the deal. But how was I going to do that when Liam was supposed to be meeting with the Board of Directors in just two days' time? It seemed damn near impossible to finagle in such a short amount of time.

I didn't get very far in my plans before my mobile phone began ringing. I glanced at the caller ID...my father's office. With a heavy sigh, I answered.

"Carlisle Cullen."

"Carlisle!" the smarmy voice on the other end of the line cooed. It was my father's assistant, Jay Jenks, a weaselly, beady-eyed man who would do all manner of uncouth things at my father's bidding. "Alistair is so looking forward to meeting your new partner, or should I say, scapegoat?" He giggled gleefully. "We're starting to think he doesn't actually exist!"

I grimaced, feeling my anger rising at Jenks' reference to himself and my father as some kind of unit and struggling to tamp it down. "Everything is right on target, Jenks, " I bit out. "I've got him right where I want him. You can assure Father of that."

"Good. Alistair is counting on you, boy."

"Don't call me boy," I growled before ending the call.

It took all the control I had not to throw the phone across the room. My anger at Jenks quickly dissipated though as the realization set in that I'd only dug my grave deeper.

Holding my head in my hands, I felt despair welling up inside me. How was I going to pull this off? A vision of the lovely hustler I had in my bed last night danced on the inside of my closed eyelids. I held onto the image of the handsome young man with the penny-colored hair like a lifeline.

Gasping, I opened my eyes and a grin spread across my face. Nobody knew what Liam looked like. They knew nothing about him, except that he was based in Ireland. A maniacal sort of laughter spilled from my lips as my new plan began to take shape.

Maybe I wouldn't need Liam McAllister after all...

A/N: Not my strongest chapter, but a necessary plot-building one. Currently working on the next one. I'm hoping to update weekly, so you can receive quality work from me. Please do let me know what you think – reviews are ever so encouraging.