Page 28 of The Influencer

I startle. Our gazes lock. “I—I don’t know.”

“But you might?” he asks, not missing a beat.

My chest tightens. It’s either anxiety or something much, much more primal. “Do you want me to?”

He gives a casual shrug. “I rarely turn men away, but you’re not exactly my type.”

“But you’d suffer through it anyway?” I ask, noting the tinge of bitterness in my tone at the reminder.

“For the right price.”

I attempt a tight smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “I see.”

“Not that you’re not good-looking. I just have to assume you’re… never mind.”

I toss an unrecognizable red and blue garment into the box beside me, unfolded. “Never mind what?” I snap.

“Well… if your girlfriend won’t fuck you…”

Okay. Fuck. This. I shove myself up from the floor and stuff my phone into my back pocket. “You’re just a little bitch, aren’t you?”

Like he’s totally unbothered by my obvious agitation, he blinks up at me and gives me a look like “And?”

8

jade

I knew the comment wouldn’t go over well, but it had to be said. I mean, he’s a very good-looking guy. It stands to reason if his girlfriend doesn’t want to fuck him, he might actually suck in bed. I don’t think it’s some big stretch of an assumption. He’s straight after all, and he probably lacks experience if she’s his first “serious girlfriend.” “You’re leaving?” I ask. “Before the food gets here?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“You’re fucking rude, dude.”

“I’m blunt. Sorry. Do you require a softer touch? I assumed with all the tattoos you could take it.”

“The tatt—what?”

I’m rapidly losing interest in him. I’m enough drama to handle, and his huffing and puffing is stressing me out, but there’s still an opportunity to salvage the evening. “Look—if you want to fuck me, if you want me to suck you off, I’ll do it for a price, but if you’re looking for a friend, you should probably keep looking. I have all the friends I can manage at the moment, and I don’t reciprocate well. I’m just too busy.”

Asher’s glare could burn a hole through me, and I’m not gonna lie, it’s sort of hot. “What if I want something else?” he asks.

“I’m listening.”

Asher reaches into his pocket, extracts his wallet, and pulls a fifty from it, slamming it on the dining table. “I want to suck your nipples.”

My eyebrows must disappear into my hairline. That came out of absolutely nowhere. Here I was thinking he was about to tell me to go fuck myself, and now—“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I can’t stop blinking. My stomach feels like a confetti cannon just went off inside it. A rush of blood goes straight to my cock. Of all the things he could have wanted—this is what he picks? I admire his willingness to admit his kink to a near stranger, though. He must be really desperate. “For fifty dollars?” I ask.

“You want more?”

“What about your girlfriend?”

His gaze tightens. “She’s not your problem.”

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