My cock is rock fucking hard.
“Pull down the dress,” I say.
Fire enters her eyes. “Why? You bought it. I thought you liked seeing it.”
“I bought you, too. And I’m sure I’ll like seeing you.”
Her hands shake as she reaches up to the straps and pulls them down her shoulders. And God, she is beautiful. I run my hand down the side of her breast. She shivers.
“The dress is only the surface, Anita. I prefer what’s underneath.”
“This isn’t me,” she whispers. “It’s my body.”
I guide her mouth to my cock, and she takes me in, willing but clumsy. Untrained. It’s the hottest blowjob I’ve ever experienced, all because of the woman who’s giving it.
She licks around the tip, tasting a man for the first time. Her expression contains curiosity, which makes my balls tighten. My cock flexes in her mouth, and she jumps a little, startled.
I grit my teeth and force the words through them. She needs to know this. Even if I’m dying from pleasure, ready to fuck her mouth with no control, she has to hear this. “You think I don’t see you? You think I don’t know you? I may love your body, but I see the woman underneath.”
She makes a moan of dissent that I feel in my balls. Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, and I throw my head back. I grip the edge of the seat and look down at her.
“Yes, Anita. I see a beautiful woman who’s brave, even facing a man with power over her. I see someone who will do anything to achieve her goals, someone successful. Someone strong.”
Those brown eyes blink up at me, dark and bewildered, and it’s enough to make me come. I spurt down her throat in endless clenches, my whole body straining at the climax. She takes all of it, swallowing me down in greedy gulps, the surprise in her eyes colored with arousal. Beautiful.
I zip up and straighten my slacks, my hands trembling in the dark. It’s like she reached down to the roots of me and pulled. I’m adrift. How can a blowjob have changed my core? But it has. She was so generous with that mouth. So fucking sweet.
She looks just as shaken as she settles on the other side of the limo. Her fingers smooth over her full lips, and just like that, I want her all over again. She owes me more, but I won’t take it from her. Not now. Not after that.
I press the intercom. “Take us to Columbia.”
She glares at me. “We’re going back to the hotel.”
“Why? Neither of us is staying there. It was a safe place to meet.”
“And it’s a safe place for you to drop me off.”
“So you can take an Uber at this time of night? No.”
“How do you even know where I go to school?”
“You’re computer engineering, right? Columbia has one of the best engineering programs in the country. In the world, really. Or am I wrong? Did you go to NYU?”
“You’re not wrong,” she says, begrudgingly. “But you don’t know where I live.”
I raise my eyebrow at her. “Do I need to call my private investigator? I’m sure he can have an address for me in the next thirty minutes.”
“God,” she says, sounding disgruntled and adorable. “Someone needs to tell you no. You are far too used to getting your way.”
This is probably true. Normally that wouldn’t bother me, but I find myself cajoling her. “It will save you time to go straight home. It’s already late.”
“Fine. I live off-campus. I’ll tell you the address.”
Triumph feels different with her. More vital. “Thank you.”
“But you’re not coming inside.”
5
Anita
Of course he doesn’t listen.
I ignore him as I cross the small parking lot and pull out my keys. The truth is, I do feel safer with him seeing me to the door. The area is secure enough. As safe as we could afford with a limited budget for rent. I don’t really mind him standing beside me as I unlock the door. What I mind is what happens when he tries to follow me inside.
My sister Valentina sits at the small, second-hand dining table working on her coursework. Probably translating something from one unused language to another. She looks up when I come in. Her eyes widen when Midas appears next.
“Hey, sis,” she says, her tone casual, as if I bring guys home every day.
“Hey.” I kick off my shoes and drop my clutch. I’m more used to wearing jeans and sandals. These clothes? They’re gorgeous. And they’re not really mine. Midas bought them for me. “This is Raoul. He’s just leaving.”
Raoul walks through the small apartment as if he owns the place. I don’t even want to think about what he makes of our potted plants and the artwork my younger sister made in her high school art class. It must look so provincial compared to his life of luxury.
Of course, Juana takes that moment to pad into the kitchen, wearing only her jammy shorts and a tank top. “I need a drink of water,” she announces sleepily. “Also, who’s the dude?”
“Raoul,” Valentina says, clearly enjoying this.
“He’s just leaving,” I say again, pointedly clearing my throat.
Raoul turns and gives a hard smile. He holds out his hand to Valentina. “My apologies. I’m Raoul Midas. It’s very late, and I wanted to see your sister home safely.”
“I see,” Valentina says, looking charmed. Traitor. She knows exactly what kind of date I went on tonight and how much I’m getting paid for it. But she doesn’t look disgusted—not by me, and not by him.
My little sister only knew it was a regular date, not a paid service. “Are you guys going out again?” she asks before gulping down an entire glass of water.
“No,” I say, at the same time as Midas says, “Yes.”
He gives a small wave to Juana. “Do you like it here?”
She shrugs. “The apartment’s nice, but it’s so far away from the bus line.”
“And he’s definitely leaving.” I take him by the arm and steer him toward the door. When we get outside, I linger in the doorway. It feels like I’m losing something, but I’m not sure what. “Don’t worry about us,” I tell him, though I’m not sure why I feel the need to reassure him.
He frowns. “Ten thousand dollars isn’t going to buy you a car.”
“We don’t need a car. We have the bus line.”
More frowning. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out again?”
“Would it be a regular date? Or through Madam Durand?”
“Through Madam Durand.” No hesitation. He wants to pay me. He wants to have sex with me. But he doesn’t want to know me. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but it stings anyway.
“Then no,” I tell him. “I’m done.”
6
Anita
In the days that follow, we get a deluge of deliveries. Ripe mangos and juicy strawberries. Whole milk. Fresh bread from a nearby bakery. There’s too much to fit in the small galley kitchen, even though we’re feasting for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.