Page 255 of The Sinner: James

“It all started a year ago, about this time,” I say anxiously, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“I kinda knew...” she murmurs. “It has crossed my mind more than once.”

I sigh.

“I didn’t plan to be an escort, and I didn’t do it for the lavish lifestyle, although I’ll be the first one to admit I enjoy the perks that come with it.”

I smile, saddened.

“I didn’t know how to pull myself out of misery, and I sort of, um… stumbled into this.”

“Is it safe?” she asks.

I look down for a moment, my chin quivering.

“As safe as it can be if you’re careful about it...” I say, swinging my gaze up. “It’s safer than the random hookup with a man or a cheating boyfriend. I only have a few clients––wealthy men. I’m tested. They’re screened too. And we always use protection. Being safe is part of the pleasure. There’s too much at stake for them and me not to prioritize safety. That’s also part of the appeal. The fact that we can be comfortable with each other without worrying about the practical aspects of it.”

A soft smile glints in her eyes.

“I wasn’t thinking about sex.”

“Oh... Did you mean creeps?”

She laughs softly.

“Yeah. Something like that...”

“No, they’re not. They just want a few hours away from their normal lives. It’s escapism for them while I’m their secret.”

“No whips, shackles, or ropes?” she asks, grinning.

I smile.

“No. Not with the men I’m seeing.”

“No throwing you against the wall with a knife between their teeth,” she comments, amused.

I gesture, entertained.

“No, no... It’s nothing like that. These men have power and a lot of responsibilities in their lives. They want to unwind and be with someone who fits their taste and doesn’t care how impressive they are. Some of them like to relinquish control, kick back, and enjoy. It’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“So, no unusual requests?”

“No, but I cherry-pick them, so it may have to do with that.”

“Are they older guys? Like sugar daddies?” she asks, curiosity lining her gaze.

“Nope. Not really,” I say, bringing my tea to my lips and taking a sip. “They’re young. Most of them are in their thirties, or forties, maybe.”

Her eyes twinkle with excitement, reminding me of the good old times.

“Good looking?”

“Yeah... They often are.”

“Damn,” she says.

Her eyes gleam with exhilaration, her imagination running wild.

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