Bobby
I watch Lexi flush as she digests my words, probably half-offended, half-turned on. I could have described all the little signs she gave that told me she’s the type who got turned on by dominance, but revealing my hand would only dim the electricity between us.
I kiss her, my palm roaming over her soft skin. I never feel tender until after sex, the actual act always bringing out my full aggression and desire to control. Finding a girl like Lexi, who doen’t just tolerate my quirk but responds with a matching level of desire, is more than a winit’s a fucking goldmine. I want things to work out with her.
I trace her cheekbone with my thumb. “So, can you handle being my girl?”
She moves to sit up, but I hold her down, rolling on top and pinning her hands over her head. She smiles up at me like the move warms her. Like I’m planting butterfly kisses across her skin, not restraining her. She’s definitely a submissive. My kind of girl.
“I think so,” she murmurs. Her blue-eyed gaze turned sultry, but I sense the tinge of nervous energy behind it. I don’t mind-it proves her intelligence. She’s walking into the arrangement with open eyes.
I land another kiss on her mouth. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart,” I murmur and mean it. I like to pamper my women. Flowers, dinner, chocolate. I’ll treat her right.
Releasing her wrists, I roll off her and climb out of the bed. “I hate to leave, but I gotta get home,” I say.
My twin nineteen-year-old daughters have lived with me since they started college this fall, and I like to be around enough to know what they’re up to. I agreed to give them some independence if they stayed with me, rather than stay at home with their mom in the suburbs or move into the dorms at NYU last fall. Yeah, I’m protective as hell, and the idea of them living in the city, in a stinking dorm, made me crazy. I attempt to provide a stable landing pad in hopes they’ll keep good heads on their shoulders.
I also don’t want Lexi to think I’m her boyfriend. I’m not the guy who holds her at night and makes her coffee in the morning. Not unless we’re on vacation together. This is transactionalthat’s the way I like it.
“I’m sorry there isn’t much to eat in the kitchen, but here’s some cash, so you can go out for a nice breakfast on me.” I drop two hundred dollar bills on the dresser. “Are you cutting hair tomorrow?”
She nods. “Eleven to six.”
“Text me the name and address of your salon, and I’ll pick you up after work.” I lean over and give her a kiss.
“Thank you.”
I drop another hundred on the dresser. “You probably don’t have any clothes to wear, do you? If you have time, go buy yourself a short skirt, I want to see those long legs on full display.”
She grins. “As you wish, my lord.”
I lean over and smack her ass again, hard enough to make her yelp. “You’d better watch out, little girl, or I’ll give you a real taste of authority.”
I love watching her eyes dilate in response to my threat. I give her another kiss and leave, the victory of my new conquest putting a spring into my step.
Lexi is one hundred times better than my last few mistakes. She might even be a keeper.
Not that I even know what that means. I certainly don’t want to be in a romantic relationship with someone. I don’t need the hassle of a girlfriend, and I definitely never plan to marry again.
So I guess Lexi is a keeper in terms of a longer arrangement.
Even as I think it, the smarter part of me acknowledges that’s not a thing. A girl like Lexi isn’t going to stick around long-term without me having to offer more than I’m willing to give.
But I don’t have to worry about that now.
For now, we’ve come to an agreement that suits us both.
If this doesn’t work for her in the future, we can renegotiate then.
Lexi
I get a text from Bobby the next afternoon while I’m at Stylz. I paid off your landlord, and I’ll have your things back to you by tonight. I’ll meet you at the apartment instead of at work.
I text back my thanks with heart, kiss, and high heel shoe emojis, affirming my gratitude will be shown in the way he expected.
Oddly, I don’t feel as cheap and dirty in the light of day as I thought I would. I feel lighthearted. Yes, I’m essentially a paid call girl. Not something to write home about. Obviously not a long-term arrangement. But I feel more supported than I can ever remember. Yeah, I’m in bed with a mobster, which is probably dangerous as fuck, but for the moment, the perks outweigh the risk. I really didn’t want to sleep on Gina’s couch or move back home with my mom. That would feel like defeat. Yeah, this is way better. For now.
As I let these new perceptions land in me, I own that last night I felt sexy, desirable, and cared for. Waking up in the luxurious apartment this morning was amazing. It’s funny how much clearer your thoughts are when you’re in beautiful surroundings. My world completely pivoted with a yes to Bobbyto this agreementthat feels like a yes to me, to being treated for a change. I’m so ready for something going my way. And so far, the strings attached aren’t so distasteful. The sex rocked my world.
I go shopping after work to buy some clothes, picking out a short skirt as Bobby requested. When I return to the apartment, I find two beefy and tattooed guys moving boxes from a truck into the elevator.
I spy my cosmetic bag on the top of one of the open boxes. “Oh! That’s mine?”
“Are you Lexi?” one of them asks.
“Yes!”