Page 27 of The Influencer

I half-smile. Most of what I’m folding is designer label and very high quality. He must do well for himself doing… whatever the fuck it is he does. I think I’ve only discovered the tip of the iceberg. The proposition he made me the other night definitely added a new dimension. But I still don’t know whether he was serious or not.

I take a chance and ask. “So, outside the club…when you…”

“Offered to suck you off?”

“For money,” I remind him, meeting his eyes.

He nods, an innocent expression on his face. Sometimes he looks handsome, other times pretty, and still at some moments, like now with his glasses on, he looks almost like a regular guy. A chameleon like no one I’ve ever met. “How serious was that offer?”

“You’re still considering it?”

“What I mean is…” I clear my throat. “Did you really expect payment?”

“I don’t see why I wouldn’t. It’s not like you’re trying to date me. What else would I get out of it? Unless you were interested in letting me film and monetize it on my own. Now, that would be a win-win. I always split the profits fifty-fifty.”

“So, it’d be purely transactional,” I say.

“Of course.”

“You do that kind of thing?”

“Oh… I see,” he says with a smirk. “You’re judging me.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Not at all. I’m just asking questions.”

“Why, Asher? Because you want to get to know me? Because you need a friend? Because your balls are so blue, they don’t care how they get off anymore?”

I sit back. “Now who’s judging?”

He presses his pretty lips together and tilts his head. He looks sexy now, a sultry gleam in his eyes. Coquettish. “Which is it?”

“Why does it have to be one of those? Why can’t I just be curious?”

“You are curious, aren’t you?”

I narrow my gaze. “Yeah.”

“What would your girlfriend say about that?”

I shrug, palms up. “What am I doing that’s wrong? I’m helping you pack. I’m attempting to have a conversation. Does that make me some kind of asshole?”

He counters with, “Just trying to figure you out. Same thing you’re doing to me.”

“Why don’t we be a little more straightforward then?” I suggest.

He makes a delicate gesture to his chest. “Me first?”

“Sure. If you’re offering.”

He needs no further encouragement. He chatters away as he drags another pile of clothes over to pack. “I’m a dancer, I have a huge following, and I like to model. I also like having sex with men, and people pay good money to watch me play with myself or fuck. I don’t often offer sexual services for money, but I’m usually the one who gets propositioned.”

“That’s barely more than I knew about you already.”

“Hmm…” He seems to toss that comment around a moment. “That’s basically all there is to know.” That quirk of his lips makes a brief appearance. “Your turn.”

“What do you want to know?” I ask.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

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