“Long time... “ he says, playing with the lighter. “What happened?”
“Um... Family shit.”
“Why do you need a man with you?”
“I’m not sure...” I say, lying. “But it was either that or not showing up.”
He moves his lips with discontentment.
He’s not buying my shit.
“Why do you have to pay men to keep you company, Senna? You’re a beautiful woman,” he says.
The last words sounded like a statement, not an argument.
He squares his shoulders and tilts his head back, giving me his signature stare. He looks down at me while sliding a cigarette between his lips.
“I am?”
My voice comes strangled, my cheeks warm with a blush.
He nods slowly, and a pull tightens in my abdomen.
Holding my gaze, he lowers his head and lights a cigarette.
I barely draw a breath.
“But you know that...” he says, a slow smile stretching across his lips as he talks around his cigarette. “So why do you have to pay them?” he asks before blowing the smoke to the side.
“I don’t have to pay them, but it’s easier that way.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Money is not my problem.”
“Then, what is your problem?” he asks, leaning forward again, resting his elbows on the table.
Dips form on his muscular shoulders. His gaze spurs more fire across my skin.
My fingers tremble while a shiver sweeps my back. I hide my hands in my lap.
He pulls back a little.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me,” he says and takes another drag.
I watch the orange tip of the cigarette grow brighter for a moment, and his arched lips release the smoke.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me more about you,” I say.
He leans back against his chair and rakes his fingers through his hair. His muscles shift beneath his skin.
A mysterious smile brightens his face as he briefly glances at the ocean.
“Okay… Ask,” he says, shifting his focus back to me.
“Why do you have to do what you do? You could do something else for money.”
“And you could be married, have kids, and not hire men for sex,” he retorts, his glare coming fast at me.