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I glanced at my desk before hurrying over and grabbing them off the desk. “Right. Thank you. Um, bye.”
“Bye, Riley.”
* * *
When my phone rang, I was just sinking into my much too small tub compared to Deacon’s glorious soaker tub. I reached for it, a little thrown off by how much I hoped it was Deacon. If he were calling to ask me to come back, I would do it, no matter how pathetic it made me look.
It wasn’t Deacon, but Celeste and I answered the call with a vague feeling of trepidation. Why would she be calling me on Sunday night? She always called Monday.
“Hi, Celeste.”
“Hello, darling. How are you?”
“I’m good, thank you. How are you?”
“Oh, fine, fine. I’m calling because Mr. Steele paid for your session this afternoon. He indicated that you had more involved personal time together,” she paused, “and he adjusted his payment accordingly. He assured me it was a mutual decision to alter the agreement, but Catherine and I wanted to confirm with you that it was mutual.”
Shocked into silence, I didn’t reply. Deacon had told the Twisted Sisters we fucked.
“Riley?” Celeste’s voice turned sharp. “It was mutual, wasn’t it? Mr. Steele in no way coerced you into a deeper level of personal time, did he?”
I bit back the inappropriate urge to shout, “Fucking! We fucked this afternoon during our play session. Just call it what it is, Celeste.”
“Riley?” Celeste repeated. “If Mr. Steele in any way pressured you for something you were unwilling to do, Catherine and I consider that a very serious matter. We do not tolerate clients who -”
“It was mutual,” I said quickly. “I very much wanted to have more, uh, personal time with Mr. Steele.”
“Are you certain?” Celeste’s tone suggested she believed me about as much as she believed in ghosts.
“I’m positive,” I said firmly. “Mr. Steele didn’t pressure me in any way. I wanted everything that happened this afternoon to happen.”
“Okay,” Celeste said, and I could hear the relief soaking into that simple word. “I’ll transfer your payment into your account this evening. Mr. Steele left his customary tip as well.”
“Okay, that’s good, thank you,” I said.
Celeste ended the call, and I stared at my phone before setting it on the small stool beside the tub, sinking into the hot water, and staring at the water-stained ceiling.
Deacon paid money to fuck me. I was officially a woman who had intercourse with men for money. My throat tightened, and tears collected in my lashes. I wiped them away impatiently. So what if Deacon had paid me for fucking him? What did I expect? He’d booked me for a play session, and we fucked… of course, he would pay for it.
Friday and Saturday had brought certain feelings to the surface that weren’t appropriate or smart. We weren’t in a relationship, and this was a good reminder of that. I needed to be grateful he’d pulled back and erected a very clear barrier between us. Deacon Cross wasn’t looking for a girlfriend, and even if he were, my broke ass would not be the one he chose.
I closed my eyes, wishing I’d brought a glass of wine - hell, an entire bottle - into the bathroom with me. It was fine. This was good that he’d paid me to fuck him. I had more money to send to my parents tomorrow. Deacon was doing me a solid by paying me for fucking him.
Everything was fine.
Everything was good.
CHAPTER 28
Riley
“Riley, did you hear?” Farah grinned at me as I sat beside her in the lunchroom. “Lina had her baby late last night.”
“Amanda told me this morning,” I said. “I’m so happy for her and Mr. Wright.”
“Me too.” Farah scrolled through her phone. “Lina’s already sent me a picture. Look at this sweet baby.”
I stared at Farah’s phone. It was a picture of Aiden holding a tiny baby wearing a pink hat. The look of love on his face made my throat tight. “She’s beautiful.”
