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“What’s the pay?” Am I actually considering this?

“It varies. I’m not sure I’m supposed to—”

“Give me a rough idea. What did they pay your last companion?”

He shifts in the chair, takes a sip from his water, and meets my eyes. “Twenty thousand dollars a month.”

CHAPTER 3

DECKER

“Sorry?” My heart stops then restarts in a frenzied tempo. “Can you repeat that?”

“If you’re hired…” Evan swallows the last bite of his pasta. “You’ll earn around twenty grand a month.”

I don’t even try to hide the frozen shock on my face. My entire body ignites in a state of excited desperation. I force my brain to focus on the downside, because no one offers that kind of salary without a huge fucking trade-off.

“You said Infidelity decides the pairings.” I slide my uneaten dinner aside and rest my forearms on the table. “I could end up with…” I grasp for a realistic albeit exaggerated scenario. “A fat old lady with a fetish for strap-ons and gimp masks.”

“Maybe?” His lips twitch. “When you fill out your profile, you can set certain restrictions, such as no bondage, no anal, stuff like that. As the company’s name suggests, some clients are married, but you can request a single woman. Just don’t expect to be matched with your ideal body type. Remember you’re the employee, providing a service to Infidelity’s client. And unless the client decides to share you with another, monogamy is mandatory.”

“Christ.” I swipe a hand down my face, grimacing as I picture a four-hundred-pound grandma in black leather. “Call me shallow, but I have standards.”

“Are those standards worth adjusting for twenty thousand a month?”

Maybe, but there’s no way I’ll get it up for a woman who turns my stomach. “What if I sign the agreement, meet the client, and can’t go through with it?”

“You’re stuck with her for a year, man. The only time agreements end early is when there’s abuse. Non-consensual bodily harm isn’t tolerated.”

Given what I used to do for living, I have zero concern about someone wailing on me. But one year? Fuck, that’s a long time to share a bed with a fugly woman. Because realistically, how many wealthy, sexy, young women pay for sex? Why would they? Men probably make up most of Infidelity’s clientele, and those few women who pay for companionship are undoubtedly lacking in physical looks or personality. Probably both.

The waiter emerges from the kitchen, and I grab my empty beer bottle and hold it up for him.

“You want anything?” I ask Evan.

“I’ll stick with water. Gotta work in the morning.”

Wish I could say the same.

We sit through a thoughtful span of silence until the waiter brings another beer and the check and returns to the kitchen.

“No matter what you decide…” Evan loosens the knot on his tie and leans back, slinging a leg over the other. “Be judicious about the privacy of this company and its associates. If you ever encounter another Infidelity client or employee, you can’t mention my name. Not to anyone except the intake representative.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.” I sip the beer. “I have no intention or reason to sabotage you.”

“Thanks.” He fidgets with the end of his tie. “Where’s your head at on all of this?”

“All over the damn place.” But my appetite’s returned, so I pull the plate back in front of me and finish off the lukewarm gnocchi.

“Don’t overthink it, Decker. You need a job. The client is paying for companionship, but she goes into this fully aware your incentive is money. And who knows? You might come out of this with a hard-on for lumpy, blue-haired ladies wearing strap-ons.”

He chuckles, and I laugh at the absurdity of it, instantly feeling less tense. The more I consider the interview, the lighter I feel. Infidelity’s a solution. If I’m honest, it’s the best option I’ve had in a long time. My hang-up is the sex. I’ve never done monogamy. Never fucked a woman I wasn’t attracted to. Granted, some of those women turned into regrets, but that’s on me. I was the one in control. I need that power, the ability to say when, who, and how.

Though I guess there are worse things than spending a year satisfying an unpleasant woman. Like giving ten-dollar blowjobs in dark alleys. Thankfully, I’ve never hit that kind of low, but if I find myself homeless and starving, fuck knows what I’d do for a meal. I have too many desperate friends doing unspeakable things to make ends meet.

“Tell me about the interview.” I set the fork down, my plate scraped clean. “Do I have to perform?”

“Perform…? You mean sex?”

I nod. “How else are they going to assess my qualifications?”

“God, no. Not like that.” His face pinches. “After a background check and medical exams, all that’s left is a conversation with the intake representative.”


Tags: Pam Godwin Erotic