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“Kissing is innately romantic. It’s definitely a lot more romantic than two people fucking and getting off. That’s all I want from you, to fuck you whenever I want, come inside you, and then go on with my life. I don’t want to pause and take the time to kiss you.”
Her expression slowly hardened into annoyance. “Well, that’s not what I want for my first time. I can’t screw a man without at least kissing him. It makes me feel like I don’t know you. I feel something when you hold me and kiss my neck…but I need more than that. You’re acting like I’m asking you for money or something. I’m not asking for much.”
“Yes, you are,” I snapped. “You’re asking for a lot more than you realize.”
“How long do you intend to keep me?”
My body tensed at the mere suggestion of letting her go. “Until you die.”
She smirked slightly, trying not to laugh. “I’m not going to look the same in fifteen years.”
“I have to squeeze every penny out of you.” No matter how many new designs I released, it would take forever to make back that money I spent.
“And if that’s the case, then we should make this relationship as positive as possible.”
“It’s not a relationship. You’re my property.”
“And what about friendship? Trust? You don’t want those things?”
I clenched my jaw slightly, refusing to answer.
“I’m telling you what I need to make this work.” She leaned forward, her long hair falling over one shoulder. “I’m not going to lie, I’m attracted to you, Conway. I’ve looked at you many times and wanted to kiss you. The idea of spending the rest of my life in a mansion in Italy with a gorgeous man to protect me is a dream come true in many ways…since I don’t have any other options. It’s sad for me to think about it that way, but it’s true. Out there in the real world, I have nothing. I can never go back to America because I’ll never make enough money to live. Even if I get a job, the government will take my checks to pay back the loan I’ll never repay…plus interest. I have a psychopath that will make good on his word the second he has a chance. This is all I have. So I’d rather make it as good as possible. For that to happen, I need to be connected to you. I’m not talking about falling in love or even romance…just human affection. I’m basically your mistress…treat me like your mistress.”
I considered what she said and had a difficult time arguing against it. She was my willing prisoner, so I never had to worry about her running off. She wanted me the way I wanted her, but she needed different terms. I didn’t need to treat her like a slave because she wasn’t one. She was my fantasy, a fantasy I would never have to lose. So I might as well give her what she wanted to make it as enjoyable as possible. Because she was right—this was a lifetime commitment. She wouldn’t just be one of the women in my bed, but the key to my artistic success. The more I enjoyed her, the better designer I would become. “I’ll consider it.”
She tilted her head slightly. “What’s the big deal, Conway?”
“I can’t afford to let the sex turn into something more.”
“Because…?”
“My designs are fueled by masculine sexuality. Men just want to fuck, to feel kingly by being in between a woman’s legs. They aren’t interested in lovemaking or romance. That’s why my lingerie is so prized. It speaks of that innate and carnal desire. So I keep my sexual encounters exactly the same—as nothing but fucking.”
She listened to me in silence, her head still slightly tilted. “And you don’t think it would be smart to broaden your audience more? Not all men are only interested in fucking a woman and walking away. There are some men out there stupidly in love with the person they’re with.”
A few. Not many. “Trust me, that’s not what most men want.”
“So you’ve never made love to a woman?”
I’d known what I wanted in life at a very young age. Romance had never interested in me. There was so much beauty between a man and a woman having a purely physical encounter. It allowed more passion, knowing they would only have one night together. They wanted to make it last before the sun rose the following morning. “No.”
“You’ve never been in love?” she asked incredulously.
“No.” Nor would I ever.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“And you’ve never met anyone that’s meant something to you?”
The only person who stole my complete focus was sitting across from me at that very moment. “No.”
She finally turned her gaze away, looking at her food. “That’s sad…”
“You haven’t met anyone that’s meant something to you either.”
