After all, from the moment I saw Caitlin sitting alone on the side of the road, I knew I had to have her. She’s everything I’ve been looking for, from those big breasts and wide hips to that innocent smile. I even liked the way she asked me about my kinks. Although she was careful about drawing a line in the sand, I can tell she’s curious.
“So what will it be?” I ask, my voice deceptively casual. “What are you thinking?”
Her face goes through many emotions. Confusion, curiosity, and even apprehension. Then finally, hope and excitement. But the curvy girl’s careful. “Why do you even want this deal?” Caitlin asks. “You could have anyone. Why me?”
I shrug. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”
She blushes, and it’s adorable. I could easily pull her into my arms and kiss her sweet lips, but it’s too soon. I want to hear her say yes before I kick our interaction up a notch.
Instead, I change the subject to release some of the pressure.
“Are you finished eating?” I ask.
Caitlin glances down at the plate in front of her, the meal forgotten.
“Oh. Yes. It was delicious, thank you.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll be able to compliment the chef when you meet her. I think you’ll like her, actually. That is, if you decide to stay.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
“I know,” I say with a grin. “But you’ll say yes. Trust me on it.”
She shoots me a look.
“You’re really cocky, you know that? Besides, you haven’t answered my question. Why do you want me? Again, you could have any woman in the world, so why me?”
I put our plates in the sink and stroll back to the counter, but instead of taking a seat next to Caitlin, I remain standing.
“Because sometimes that’s just the way it is,” I respond. “And I’m used to getting what I want.”
This answer doesn’t appease the beautiful girl. Her eyes grow dark and she frowns.
“Look, I know I’m poor and in desperate straits, but I’m not an idiot. Look at this house. Look at you. You’re rich and handsome. You could get anyone you want. Why me? Why this deal? Wouldn’t it be easier just to buy a hooker? Or even a socialite? I’m sure they could be convinced.”
I take one of Caitlin’s hands in mine.
“You have quite the imagination, you know that?” I say, laughing lightly. “Yes, I meet a lot of women and yes, I’m sure some of them would be happy to stay here.”
“I knew it!” she says, pouncing quickly.
“But,” I interrupt, “these women have expectations. These women want me to wine and dine them. They think I’m going to buy them all kinds of clothes and jewelry, and to be honest, that’s fine. I don’t mind gifting trinkets, baubles, designer purses, or whatever makes them happy. The problem is what comes after.”
Caitlin frowns.
“And what comes after?”
I shrug.
“It only takes a few months, if not weeks, before women develop Expectations with a capital “E,” meaning that they want a diamond, a proposal, and then a wedding cake with a honeymoon afterwards. They want to become Mrs. Travis Simpson because that’s the logical next step, right?”
Caitlin furrows her brow. “That quickly? Really?”
I nod.
“Even faster sometimes, which leads me to you. I want to make it absolutely clear right now: marriage is not on the table for you and I.”
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t suggest…”
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I want you for this arrangement. I could tell you were different from the moment we met. You’re a girl who knows her place in the world, and you’ve got your head screwed on straight. You’re not going to ask for things you can’t get because why set yourself up for disappointment? You’re not going to request my heart on a string, nor are you going to be offended if I treat you like a sex doll. Because that’s your role in my life, and that’s the role you’re going to play.”
I know the last part comes off as a bit harsh, but I want to be honest. This is a transaction, and she should understand that. Caitlin bites her lip, and I can see confusion, not to mention pride, warring in her eyes. I get it. She’s a dignified young woman, and the words “sex doll” aren’t exactly what ladies aspire to these days. Women are feminists, and they want to be Supreme Court Justices, not to mention the next President of the United States. But we’re not talking about that. Instead, we’re in my house, negotiating terms for a particular position, and these are the parameters of the deal.
Caitlin bites her lip again.
“Will I be allowed to leave the house? I don’t want to be cut off completely from my friends,” she says slowly.
Good, the curvy girl’s drawing closer to yes.
“Of course you can see your friends. You’re not a captive. However, I expect that when I am home, you will also be home. Wearing nothing but lingerie,” I add in a matter of fact voice. “I promise, I will treat you like a princess as long as your expectations are realistic.”