Page 38 of Work: Strictly Professional

Of course I’ll buy him. That’s how I get everything I want. That’s how everyone gets what they want. They buy it. There’s no shame in it. It’s how the world works. Things have a price, and you pay it.

I work hard. I do well and make a lot of money. A lot of money.

I like nice things.

And Wyn Foster?

Well, he might be the nicest thing I’ve ever seen.

I breathe easy when it’s decided. Easier than I have in days. Easier than I have since the day Wyn walked into my office. I turn onto my side, so my body weight causes the mattress between Wyn and me to dip. Wyn rolls into the dip. Swallowing and murmuring quietly as he slumps closer to me. His body presses against mine, and he nuzzles his head into my chest just like he did last night when I did the same thing.

I wait until breakfast has arrived and Wyn has been to the bathroom and flattened his hair with handfuls of water and product before making my proposition. I think it’s only fair to give a man time to splash his face and cover his modesty before hitting him with a licentious proposal.

He sits across from me at the bistro table on the deck. Massive palm leaves dip in the breeze, tapping softly against the roof of the bungalow. Wyn wraps his robe around his neck and pulls the belt tight before raising his coffee to his lips. I let him have that sip and the next one before I begin.

“D’you know, Wyn, that kiss yesterday was the first time I’ve done something with a man?”

“Hmm,” he says, brows shooting up as he peers at me over his mug. His eyes are bigger and bluer than I’ve ever seen them. He seems at a loss as to what to say next.

Can’t say I blame him.

Fortunately, I’m severely sleep-deprived, nursing a mild hangover, and I’m stretching my wings after decades,decades,in the closet. It’s a combination that’s lowered my inhibitions significantly and seems to have impacted my impulse control and decision-making as well. “Yeah. First time.”

“Soooo”—he drags the word out, looking quite frightened—“what did you think?”

“Not bad,” I say, just to see him bristle. He doesn’t disappoint. I lower my voice, letting it roll around low in my throat before expelling my next words. I’m trying to buy time, hoping against hope that sanity, reason, common sense, or anything like that will jump to attention and take the helm. Sadly, they don’t. Oh well. “Not bad at all. In fact, I want more.”

“M-More?”

There’s a pitch in his voice, a squeak, that I like. A high-pitched sound that wakes something feral inside me. “Yes. I want more. I’m new at this, late to the party, as it were. I’m behind, and I hate being behind. I won’t stand for it.”

He looks as confused as I’ve ever seen him but fixes his gaze on me and flattens his lips into a well-practiced smile with a professional slant. “What are you saying, Mr. MacAvoy?”

A damn good question, I admit. To make sure he understands exactly what he’s dealing with, I speak slowly and clearly. “I’m saying I want you to show me what it’s like to be with a man. I wantyouto show me. I want you to give me access to your body. I want you to let me try things, taste things…maybe even teach me a thing or two.”

Wyn sets his coffee cup down with a clatter, spilling a good amount onto the table.

I calmly lift his cup and mop the spill with my napkin as he sits, hand on his throat, clearly searching for something to say. The hand on his throat rises and wipes his brow roughly and then dabs at his top lip.

“Quick question,” he says when he’s able to make eye contact without losing his shit. “Are you suggesting that I allow you to-to-toexperimenton me?”

It’s not the word I would have chosen, but it’s close enough. And it isn’t a flat-out no. Nor is it a threat of a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“Exactly,” I boom, a surge of happiness, victory, and quite possibly another heaped dose of madness taking over. “And not to worry, I’ll compensate you for your time.”

“Mytime?” He sounds incredulous, but again, it’s not an outright no, which buoys me.

“Your time, your service. Skill. Whatever you want to call it. Name your price, and it’s yours. And don’t worry, what happens in Hawaii stays in Hawaii. When we get back to LA, things will go back to normal. We’ll keep work strictly professional.”

18

Wyn

To say I’m unravelingwould be the greatest understatement of all time. The flowers are arriving tomorrow. The installation is complete and being hoisted into the air as we speak. The photographer has gone radio silent, and instead of feeling any sort of hysteria about it, I’ve found a little stool to sit on, and I’m staring at the horizon, trying to make sense of what happened this morning.

Did Derek really say he wants to experiment on me?

And that he’ll pay me?

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