Page 14 of The Devil's Playground

But because it was Rolls who gave me the option, I found myself hesitant to do so. Almost like he would judge me or something.

I don’t know. Add that to how the girls upstairs make me think of the ‘lovely ladies’ from Les Mis, and I just… it would take a lot for me to agree. I’m not as desperate as I was when I first left Springfield, and while I told Haines that the price for my pussy was ten grand, that’s only because I knew he would never pay it.

Yup. I was wrong about that one.

It’s closing in on the end of my shift. My feet are barking, my shorts gave me a wedgie an hour ago that I’ve been too busy to pick, I’ve had ‘Memory’ from Cat in my head for the last fifteen minutes, and I had just gotten over one of the more handsier wallets tweaking my tit for a twenty when someone taps me on my shoulder from behind.

Smile, Nic. Always keep that smile on your face.

Though, yeah, it kinda wavers a bit when I find Miles standing behind me.

He’s wearing an ill-fitting suit, dark hair in disarray from where he ran his fingers through it at some point tonight, dark eyes drawn irrevocably to my cleavage. One hand flutters anxiously at his side. The other? It’s holding a plain brown briefcase.

“I got your message from Brit,” he says to me.

I have no clue what he’s talking about.

“Message? What message?”

He pats the briefcase in his hand. “Ten grand. Cash in hand. Isn’t that what you said?”

“You’re joking.”

Miles flips open the lid on the case. I’m not sure what ten grand looks like bundled up, but, uh… that’s a lot of money in there.

“You gave me your word. If I gave you ten grand to walk out of here with me one night at the end of your shift, you’ll give me the rest of it. Remember? From midnight to eight a.m., I get you to do whatever I want with. You promised. And, well, I’ve delivered.”

Holy. Shit.

“That’s ten grand?” I ask, stunned.

He nods. “I’m sure you’ll want to count it. When I’m getting my room ready for you, you can do that, but once you see there’s ten grand, like I promised, then you’ll do what you promised.”

I can’t believe this. For the last two weeks or so, every shift I have at the Playground, Miles would ask me what it would take for a night. Not even just a quick fuck. He wanted a full night, with the only caveat being that I could get him to wrap up his dick. Other than that, nothing else was off the table.

And the only reason I agreed with something absolutely ridiculous is because I never, ever in a million years thought he would agree with my stipulation.

I… I don’t know what to say. I’m having a hard time tearing my gaze away from all that green, but can I really go home with this guy for eight hours? I… shit?—

“What’s going on here?”

My head snaps up. While I was staring at the money, someone joined us.

God damn it. What would it take for a hole to open up right now that would conveniently swallow me whole? Because that? That would be great.

Anything would be preferable to standing here, discussing my price with a customer when Rolls McIntyre suddenly appears.

His suit, I notice, is not ill-fitting. The white button-down fits him perfectly, and the black suit jacket—an exact match in the shade to his creased pants—is perfectly tailored to his body. Up close, he seems deceptively slender, though I’d put money I don’t have yet down that he’s got a sculpted body hidden beneath the fancy clothes.

Haines smirks over at Rolls. “Nothing much. Just making arrangements with one of your girls.”

Rolls looks at me, a pleasantly curious expression on his handsome face. “Is that so?”

What can I say? Technically, that is what’s going on. “Yes.”

And I know from the reactions of both men that one simple word means that I’ve agreed. Because, well… I have. For that much money, I can’t refuse.

Rolls’s blue eyes rove over the cash still on display. “I hope you brought more than that with you, Haines.”

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