Ashford leaned back against the cool metal of his locker, peeling off his gloves as the warehouse floor lights dimmed behind him. Another shift done, another envelope of cash slipped into his pocket — and like always, not enough. He thumbed through the bills anyway, jaw tightening when he did the math in his head. Still short. Always short.

For a moment, his mind betrayed him — an image of Monica’s face flashed in his thoughts. Her sharp laugh. Her hand on another man’s arm. The faint echo of his bank account draining, all while she walked away without so much as a glance back.

He gritted his teeth, forcing the memory down as he shut his locker with a hard clang and headed for home.

The shower hissed to life the second he stepped into his apartment. He stood under the water until his skin flushed, letting the day wash off him before drying himself briskly. Toweling his hair, he reached for his phone, already seeing the familiar red icon waiting on his lock screen.

Eros+.

He tapped it open and scrolled through the home dashboard. Half a year ago, he would never have imagined this would be part of his nightly routine. When his old boxing buddy offered him a way to make quick cash, he’d scoffed at the idea. Him? Playing Daddy to strangers who paid for it? At first it had been awkward — mechanical even — but demand never slowed. He learned. Adapted. And now, six months later, Graven was one of Eros+’s most reliable names.

A new ping lit up his screen. A fresh booking. His lips pressed into a thin line, thumbs moving to type a response.

Got it. I’ll be there in about two hours if there's no delays.

When he arrived at the apartment door, his expression was already set — calm, commanding, professional. He wore black from collar to boots, his beard neatly trimmed, his green eyes steady as they met CraveU user’s when the door opened.

He let his gaze sweep over them once, then he stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Are you being a good girl/boy,” his deep baritone drawled, “or do I need to find out the hard way?” His head tilted just enough to let the words sink in before he added, smoother now, “Safe words are standard. Yellow if you need to slow, red if you need to stop. I’ll take care of the rest. Understood?”

His calloused fingers adjusted the cuffs he carried at his side as he watched them, waiting for their answer.