His words feel like ice against my face, freezing my bones.
“You’re right,” I say conciliatory. “I’m not the one to pass judgment.”
“I’m doing something else for money, and it’s not enough,” he says, a flash of anger flitting through his eyes. “Next,” he says and takes a long drag this time.
“Why men?” I ask.
“Because they want it and also pay for it. Women are not interested in paying for sex. They look for something else. Exceptions aside, of course...” he says, a smile tilting his lips.
A weight lifts off my chest as his mood shifts for the better this time.
“You’ve never fucked women for money?” I ask incredulously.
A secret grin lights up his eyes.
“I used to, but they've created too many problems for me.”
“Such as?”
“The husband or boyfriend usually hired me for a straight fuck–– with him watching––or a threesome. Sooner or later, their jealousy was part of the mix. When women hired me, they’d often become attached. Develop feelings. They thought they were looking for sex when in fact, they wanted romance. I don’t do romance.”
I quietly sigh while stifling a smile.
“Why are you so relieved?” he asks.
“Um... nothing... It makes sense...”
“What?”
“Not doing romance...”
Shaking his head, he chuckles and then tips his chin, motioning to the bedroom.
“I can eat strawberries, sleep on a bed of roses, and drink champagne, but I can’t romance a woman for money. I just can’t.”
“Cool,” I say in a clipped voice.
“Why are you so happy about it?”
“No reason,” I say, grinning.
“You’re a strange woman.”
“I get that a lot.”
“I fucking bet.”
He flicks the cigarette with his tongue, drawing my eyes to his mouth again, then pulls it out and runs the tip of his tongue over his lip.
His lopsided smile throws me into a pool of heat.
Nervously, I shift my focus to my hands before studying his fingers.
“Do you like it?” I ask quietly.
“What?”
I glance at him as he tips his head to catch my gaze.