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“Like I said, that’s not what you were saying last night.”
“Who says that anymore? We’re not in high school or elementary school or…”
“Or what? I want you to answer one question. And then, if I believe you, we can let this whole thing go.”
“Fine. What’s the question?”
“You have to be honest, though.”
“I’m always honest.”
“Mm, sure.” He cocks his head to the side and rolls his eyes.
“I’m always honest.”
“Okay, then,” he says. “Did I or did I not make you come more than you’d ever come before in your life last night?” He stares at me with his self-satisfied smile, and I want to scream. The truth of the matter is he’s the best lover I’ve ever had, and there’s no way I want him to know that. We stare at each other, and I can feel my heart racing. I watch as he unbuckles his belt, and I swallow hard. I have no idea how to answer his question.
6
“Ella.” He grins, and I know that he is loving this. “You haven’t answered my question.” He starts dancing around, and I just stare at him.He’s got more rhythm than I would have imagined him having.
“Do you want me to tell you that I think you’re really immature?” I ask, and he bursts out laughing.
“I can call your parents right now if you want me to and tell them the truth.”
“And just what would you say to my parents?”
“I don’t know exactly. Maybe that you went to Sam’s Christmas party and seduced me.”
“I did not.”
“Okay, I will say that you were dancing all sexy, we made out on the dance floor and I played with your tits, even though you supposedly didn’t know who I was.”
“I didn’t.” I blush at his words.
“Then I will tell them how you basically begged me to fuck you.”
“I did not beg you for anything.”
“Okay,” he says, smiling. “Technically, you didn’tbegbeg, but we both know how badly you wanted it.”
“Whatever. You wanted me.”
“I did,” he says, winking and coming closer to me. He grabs my hand, and I pull it away from him.
“What are you doing?”
“I would like a massage,” he says, cocking his head to the side and looking me up and down. “If you’re not going to vacuum and do the dishes, then at least give me a massage.”
“What exactly is going on here?” I ask, gazing at him, glad he’s forgotten about his question. “Are you really expecting me to be your assistant?”
“Your parents believe this is real, and that means I have to pay you. And if I have to pay you, you have to do a job. Don’t worry, the pay is good.”
“What are you going to pay me?” I ask, staring at him.
“I don’t know. What about twenty-five thousand dollars a month?”
“Twenty-five thousand a month?” I squeal in surprise. My heart is giddy, and I almost want to laugh. “Are you kidding?”
