18+
"but that's just it, mr. wheeler. you're not paying me for sex, you're paying me for my discretion. your money isn't what makes me wet, sir. your money is just what ensures i don't run and tell the tabloids about how hard you make me come."
she...
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"$25,000?"
"$25,000."
"in united states dollars?"
"would you prefer i have it converted?"
"per month?"
"yes, per month."
she couldn't believe it. it was more than any of her payment options required. and yeah, he had tacked on his own conditions but still, it was a lot.
it was more than she'd ever imagined, even in her line of work.
"i feel like i'm being tricked," she said, not really giving her words much thought before they slipped from her lips.
mike smiled, watching the paranoia swirl in her eyes. "why would i trick you?"
"for fun?"
his eyes rolled. "it's not a trick, miss brenner. however, if it makes you feel better, i can go down to your original asking price-"
"no!" she flinched at the sound of her own voice. "i mean, that's not necessary."
he blinked, leaning forward in his chair. "so, do you agree to my conditions?"
"can i have some time to think about it?" she asked, trying to conjure up the professionalism she'd somehow managed during their first meeting.
his head tilted slightly. "you need to think about it?"
no.
but she needed to appear like she did. she didn't want him to see her as eager — even if she was.
she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy how he regarded her that day in his office, how he looked at her while she kneeled for him, how his eyes glazed over with every obedient sir.
"i have other clients, mr. wheeler," she reminded.
he laughed. "yes, and how many times have your other clients made you come? have they ever managed to do it? have they even made you wet?"
again, no.
she normally met her other clients pre-lubed. they thought it was real though, the clueless, old fucks.
she inhaled deeply before speaking, "there's other things to consider. like the freedom you expect me to give up because i'd have to come running to your beck and call."
he sat back, all too pleased to correct her, "crawling, darling. i promise, i won't make you run."
her round eyes rolled. "oh, how could i forget-"
"stop rolling your eyes at me," he interrupted, his calm tone catching her off guard.
her brows hiked up. "excuse me?"
"i said, stop rolling your eyes at me," he repeated.
"or what?" she asked, of course.
"or i'll make them roll into the back of your head," he smoothly replied. his response and the imagery it prompted thrilled her before he added, "and then, right when you're about to come, i'll walk away."
