Page 44 of Highest Bidder

Perfect.

I put the plates in the microwave for thirty seconds and while I waited, refilled my coffee and served her a cup.

After setting her mug in front of her, I reached down to spread her pussy apart and admire my handiwork.

“Beautiful,” I murmured then with a spring in my step, retrieved the plates from the microwave.

She raised her coffee to her lips trying to hide her smile, but I saw it in her eyes. They were warm and playful. And too damn comfortable.

“What?” I asked, arching a brow.

“You’re being almost nice. Should I be worried?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Don’t confuse civility with softness. I just came. Give me a few minutes.”

She laughed softly and cut her omelet with her fork. “So… how old are you?”

I blinked at the change in topic. “Why?”

“Just curious. You know how old I am. Seems fair.”

“Thirty-six.”

She paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Damn. You wear it well.”

I cocked my head. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“It is. Just don’t start calling me ‘kiddo’ or anything. That’d ruin the whole vibe.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “Noted. As long as you don’t call me ‘daddy’.”

Her button nose wrinkled, and she replied, “Ew, never. You don’t have to worry about that.”

I knew there was a story there but didn’t push it.

For a moment, it was quiet. Just two people having breakfast. Except one of us was dripping cum.

“You’re leaking on my chair,” I noted.

She responded with a smirk. “Whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” I said, meeting her eyes. “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

She swallowed, and I could tell something was on her mind by the way she wouldn’t look at me while she ate.

Finally, after a beat, she asked, “Do you ever bring anyone here… for real? Not as part of a contract?”

I didn’t answer right away.

Then I said, “No. Never,” and left it at that.

Chapter Nineteen

Vivian

I woke to the feel of soft sheets and the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne on the pillow beside mine. For a second, I didn’t move, just lay there blinking at the ceiling while trying to figure out why I wasn’t in the guest room.

Because last night, he’d told me to stay.

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