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Yes, there might be something absurdly hot about the material side of things, I reflected as I looked at the gorgeous redhead in the sexy green romper. If Leah, for example, knew she would earn a diamond necklace for obediently spreading her bottom-cheeks for me when I instructed her to prepare herself for anal, and for taking my cock there after a spanking with blushing gratitude for her punishment…
The thought made me stiffen against my thigh, but it didn’t represent the heart of the matter. That lay in the possibility that Leah longed not for material comfort but for a true partnership with a man who could take care of her in other, more important ways, as well.
A true partnership, if an unequal one. An alpha who knows how to keep a naughty, inexperienced young woman in line in the bedroom and elsewhere.
I watched her take her lower lip between her teeth and chew on it thoughtfully. A tiny crease appeared on her forehead, and I couldn’t help recalling the way her face had looked during the photoshoot with the Selecta photographer. I suddenly felt as if I could read her mind, and though I knew it came in part from my undeniable arrogance, I didn’t have any doubt: Leah had started to think about me.
As if to confirm that idea, she turned away from the view, and I had a precious moment of observation as her eyes swung toward me. I saw anxiety in her face, but at the same time her lips parted just a little, and though I couldn’t tell why, I felt absolutely certain that she had the same dilemma going on inside her heart and mind that I had, watching her: Leahwantedthis date to represent only a financial transaction, but she had started to learn what she really needed, and she understood, deep down and almost subconsciously, that my dominance could give it to her.
Her eyes fixed on me, and widened. I smiled.
“Leah,” I said. “I’m Christian.”
* * *
Leah
How could he be more handsome in person? I felt the blood rush to my cheeks as much because I hadn’t done Christian’s gorgeous eyes justice as I pictured him walking into the bar as because of what my daydream had shown me he might do.
“Hi,” I said weakly. “I’m… I mean, you know… I’m Leah?”
What the fuck. You actually just said your first name as if you weren’t sure about it.
I had the terrible problem that while Christian’s actual arrival, and his physical existence here in the elegant bar a few feet away from me, should have dispelled my distressing fantasy of a moment before, it absolutely did not. Christian’s dark eyes should have reassured me that he would never do what I had helplessly pictured him doing as I looked out over the stunning vista of Beverly Hills. Instead, they seemed to tell me hewouldin fact, do that. This man, my overactive, treasonous imagination told me, definitelywouldtell me to get up and take off my romper so that he could see what I had on underneath—what he had gotten for his money, so far.
As he stepped closer, smiling, and put out his hand for me to shake, part of my mind felt comforted by the evident fact that he had no intention of giving such a command to a girl he had just met. At the same time, though, I couldn’t help thinking that something about his expression conveyed a different message: this man definitely reserved the right, his intelligent gaze told me, to tell me to strip for his inspection whenever he chose.
“It’s great to meet you,” he said, maintaining eye contact as he moved to sit down across from me.
I blushed again.
Dammit,I told my circulatory system,you have to stop.It felt like my body had stopped obeying even my simplest intentions: the blood came and went in different, unwelcome parts of me as if according to someone else’s wishes.
His wishes.That look in his gorgeous eyes: it said that really he already had met me in one very important, very shameful sense. The heat in my face, and the way it affected me down below, where I had obediently prepared myself—on this first date, no less—for him… it gave me the dismaying news that some part of me couldn’t help responding to this embarrassing, ongoing ‘story.’
I didn’t have to give in, though, did I? I had come to LA to game the system, the same way I had done in Harristown, except that I would use my experience to game it more effectively. I was here in this bar because I wanted a month’s allowance from this billionaire, and I knew I could get it. Christian G had clearly liked what he had seen, when he had tuned into my intimate photo session.
My body’s response didn’t matter; that was my affair alone. It didn’t matter that I had gone to the lingerie shop, and used this guy’s money not to buy groceries but to do as he had instructed and get myself the pretty things I now had on under my romper. It didn’t matter how self-conscious I had felt, waiting here for him, squirming in my seat every two minutes at the strange feeling of the lacy thong over my newly smooth pussy and in my freshly waxed bottom-crack.
I could string him along. Hell, he had seen me naked already; I could let him see what his money had bought—the underwear, not the girl. I had already fulfilled the necessary condition to get my subsidy extended, by showing up for this date. I would get a month’s allowance, and then… well, I wouldn’t ghost him, because that seemed just as stupid as refusing to answer the door in Harristown. But I definitely wouldn’t give up my virginity to him to get an allowance, as if I were some kind of escort with my first time up for sale.
I felt the blush fade from my cheeks, and I impressed myself by putting a bright smile on my face.
“So you’re in the… theindustry, I guess you all call it?” I asked, hearing in my voice exactly the mixture of innocence and curiosity I’d hoped to put into my words. Yeah, I could do this.
Christian nodded, chuckling a little.Dammit.How could he do that to me? At least the electric thrill that traveled up and down my limbs at the sound of his laughter didn’t result in another blush.
“That orthe business,” he replied. “Yeah, I make movies.”
“Produce them?” I guessed.
He nodded. “Yeah, though for me it’s not just about giving somebody else a ton of cash and hoping the folks will come see the movie. I’m not a creative, but I have really good instincts for what’s going to work on film.”
My heart had started to beat a little faster, and to my surprise it didn’t have to do with sex at all—except maybe to the extent that what Christian said, or really the way he said it, made me want to get closer to him. I didn’t think I’d ever met a man so obviously passionate about what he did for a living.
“So, like, blockbusters? Or smaller stuff?” I didn’t have to feign an interest; I liked movies as much as the next girl.
“A mix,” Christian told me. “I’m not one of those producers who hates the big films on principle and claims he only makes them to pay the bills for the smaller, artier stuff. I’m really proud of all my work—if I can’t see myself being proud of it, I don’t make it.”
