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I saw you at the party. You’re beautiful. I want to know if I can see you? I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Whatever your current man is paying, I’ll double it. Whatever it takes, beautiful girl. Think about it.
I even hid my cell phone so Alistair wouldn’t see it. Not that he’d snoop into my phone, but if this guy texts me again and my phone is on display, I won’t be able to explain my way out of it.
I can’t explain the feeling, but it feels like cheating. I know I haven’t done anything — and nor do I plan to — but I get this icky feeling whenever I think about it.
I should just block the guy and never message him again. He obviously thinks I’m money driven, and while I was initially only doing this to get some extra cash, I’ve come to also understand that sleeping with men for money isn’t something I can do.
That may sound a little contradictory considering that’s exactly what I’m doing with Alistair, but this feels different. He cares about me, and I care about him. Maybe a little too much. I may be falling for him and I know that’s bad, but I also know I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
I’m sure he thinks I just wanted to stay for the money and the perks; I did suggest it after all. But I only wanted to stay in his company, afraid that he’d toss me aside if I didn’t give him something back. If that makes me his little whore, then so be it. I’ll gladly take it because I know that I’d do this even if he wasn’t rich.
Trust me, I don’t want to fall head over heels for this man. Not when he can have any woman he wants and would probably trade me in the second he gets bored, but what we’ve shared recently has been the best thing I’ve ever encountered. Sue me if it doesn't feel good to feel loved and nurtured, even if it is all an act on his part.
“You're awfully quiet,” he says when I don’t offer anything else.
“I had a big day shopping,” I laugh.
“I saw. My credit card company called to make sure I really did want to spend a hundred grand on luggage.”
I swallow hard. “I feel terrible about that. I just didn’t want to make you mad.”
He kisses the back of my head. “Nothing you could do would make me mad. As long as we’re honest with each other.”
I want that too, complete honesty. But to him, I’m just the chick he’s paying to have sex with. I’m nothing more than a commodity to him. It felt good at first, and I don’t mind opulence one little bit, but the fun kinda disappears after a while. If he’d been with me, helping me pick out underwear, for example, it might’ve been a little bit more fun.
I can’t help but wonder what happens when I have all the designer things in the world. What then?
Diamonds. Cars. Luxury apartments. Hermes bags. International travel. It’s every girl's dream. But so is falling in love. And I’m not in love with his money. That doesn’t mean shit to me. What I want is him. Raw Alistair. The man behind the mask who I see from time to time. When he lets his guard down, there’s a whole new world waiting there. And it’s oh, so sweet.
“Of course. I want that too.” I nestle back against him as he draws circles on both sides of my thighs. Having his hands on me is all the reward I need.
“After that night, did you consider doing what you did with any other man?” he asks me out of the blue.
I frown. Why is he asking this now?
“You know the answer to that. I was having second thoughts about the entire thing. Then when you came into the room, and I realised it was you, something happened.”
“What happened?”
“Something inside of me wanted you more than anything. While I know it was wrong, I can’t regret the decision. It was the first time in a long time that I’d felt anything good.”
“Charlize…”
“I don’t need your sympathy. I’m just saying how I feel. And no — in answer to your question — I don’t want to do that. I thought I could, for the extra cash, but that isn’t me, Alistair. It never was.”
He sighs and I wish I knew what he was thinking. “I believe you.”
“Even though you’re still paying me?”
“Like I said, it’s money that’s owed to you.”
I turn in his arms. “I don’t want money that’s owed to me. Taking money to have sex with you… it’s starting to feel… blurry.”
He frowns. “Blurry?”
I let out a breath, cupping his face. “Don’t you feel this?”
“I’m trying not to.”
