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Tamsin sighs. “I should go.”
“Must you? I don’t know whether to believe your story about feeding your cat. That sounds like you trying to let me down gently.”
She giggles, lifting her head and reaching for the blindfold, before stopping. “I wasn’t lying. I really do have a little old cat. Pass me my phone and you can see.”
Reluctantly, I slide out from under her and fetch her phone from her purse. I also pull on my glasses. I’d rather not put them on again, but it will be difficult for her to show me her cat with the blindfold on, and she will need to go soon.
I help her sit, then untie the blindfold and slowly remove it from her eyes.
She blinks up at me. “Thank you.”
I hand her the phone.
She glances down for a moment, scrolling through pictures. Then she holds up the screen, pointing it toward me so I can see. A little white ball of fluff with a brown tail is curled on a sofa that bears the evidence of it being a favorite spot. A colorful cushion is covered with lots of white fur. “Here she is. She’s nineteen years old. An old lady in cat years. She can’t see now, either. So I have to take good care of her.”
The tip of my tail flicks against the mattress. It’s frustrating she has a legitimate reason for leaving, but I am mollified she was telling me the truth. “She’s blind?”
Tamsin nods. “Yeah. It’s pretty common for blue-eyed cats when they get old.”
I smile. “Then why not bring her here? She would be safe from me and then you’d have no reason to run out on me.”
She chews her lip. “You’re very tempting. I need to think about where that leaves me, though.”
I scowl. Again I wrestle with the urge to be more forceful, but I don’t want her forced. I want her choosing to spend time with me.
Ridiculous.
I’m paying her to spend time with me. She’s not doing it because she wants me. Yet her luscious body and her little cunt respond so beautifully to my touch I can’t help but wonder if at least some of her desire is real.
I thought paying a courtesan would make this simple. The longer I spend with Tamsin, though, the more I’m seeing this is anything but simple. Already, I’m feeling far too many complex feelings when I’m with her. Even when I’m not. In almost no time at all she’s gotten under my skin. My fangs ache and I tongue them absently, noting the unusual taste of my venom.
Lucky I have plenty of money to spend. An almost limitless supply. So I’m not worried. I will just continue to buy her time and her attention until I finally tire of her.
I can only hope that doesn’t take too long. I have no idea how I’m supposed to run my business empire with such a tempting distraction at my fingertips.
When Tamsin leaves, my mind is unusually active. Even while my body succumbs to the night’s torpor. I don’t always sleep. I don’t need to, but I do usually place my body into a sort of meditative still, conserving energy until morning.
Of course if I wish, I can simulate sunlight and stay active. It’s what I do if I’m working on a major deal, or if something catches my interest. Nothing like modern technology and the ability to step into my tanning room to encase myself in the sunbed for an hour to keep my heart pumping blood through my veins and keep my limbs lithe and responsive.
It’s not sustainable. Not for long periods of time. I might not need sleep, but I need rest.
Tonight, though, I cannot rest.
All I do is mull over what Tamsin might be doing. Whether her cat is, in fact, an elaborate story. Whether she has contacted Monstrous Deals to make herself unavailable for other bookings.
When I can no longer resist the urge, I rise from my bed at three in the morning and head for the sunbed.
Would she have lied to me because she knows it’s what I want to hear? Does she have another client tonight? Surely her body couldn’t take any more. But perhaps her other clients do not make her come the way I do.
I like that thought.
I decide to ask her about it when she returns, just so I can have the satisfaction of hearing it from her lips. How many times do they make her come? Does she cry their names in ecstasy like she did mine?
I doubt it.
Do they make her smile?
I scowl. I suddenly have trouble remembering if I’ve made her smile enough times. If the smiles were for my benefit, or because she couldn’t help it.
