Page 69 of The Sun and Her Star

“No thanks, I don’t know what Nanette promised you, but no.” I pick up my shirt.

“Nanette didn’tpromiseme anything. Shesoldthis session with you and him. I’vepaidfor it,” she says, her smile disappearing.

“Well, actually, I paid for—”

“Shut up, William.” She interrupts the man who is on his knees in front of me, his eyes glued to the bulge in my jeans.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll give you your money back,”

“I don’t want my money back. I want you to let him suck your dick. And because you’ve been so difficult, I want you to eat my pussy while he does it.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s not happening. My mouth doesn’t touch you. And I don’t wanthismouth on me.” I step around the man and start toward the door.

“Do you do this for fun?” she calls after me.

I stop and turn around. “What do you think?”

“Well then, if you do it for the money, why do you even care? You have a cock. You can stick it in anything, and it’ll feel good.” She climbs off the bed and walks toward me.

“His mouth, my cunt, my ass, his ass,” she drawls. “What does it matter when you’re just a whore?”

That word.

I want to feel offended, but it’s true. It’s what I am.

She’s right. He’s just another mouth. I’m not attracted to him, but I’m not attracted to her either. I can’t do this anymore.

“Come lie on the bed, we’ll make you feel good.” She says and waggles her fingers at me.

“No. But thanks for the offer,” I say, and then I walk out.

As I walk to my car, I pull out my wallet and grab the card I’d stuck inside on my birthday and call the number.

“This is Dean,” he answered his phone before the first ring.

“Hey, uh … this is Graham. Graham Davis. We met at Rivera last week?”

“I remember. What took you so long to call?” he asks. There’s no humor in his voice.

“I’ve been working this week,” I respond, surprised by his tone. “If I called at a bad time—”

“If it was a bad time, I wouldn’t have answered. I’m not taking on new clients, Mr. Davis.”

“Okay …” I’m confused and turn his card over in my hand and wonder what the hell is going on.

“But,youare something special,” he says slowly.

My hackles rise at those words. I’ve heard them plenty of times, and I know where this is going, “Look, if this is some sort of sex thing, you can forget about it. And maybe try to find something redeeming to do with your life. You’ve got that beautiful wife and a baby to think about; there’s more to life than getting laid.”

He bursts out laughing, and I hang up. A second later, I get a text from his number, “And you’ve got some morals, too. My name is Dean Orleans. Google me. Look at my client list and then call on me back. But, only if you’re ready to work harder than you ever have in your life. Because that’s what it’s going to take for what I have in mind.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, excitement lighting up every nerve.

“I want to make you a star.”

Year 2

Apollo

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