Page 29 of The Influencer

I find myself having to force a swallow. My mouth is bone dry. I guess it’s time for me to put up or shut up, but I wasn’t expecting him to break so easily. Maybe he was closer to the edge than I initially thought. I hand him back the fifty-dollar bill. “Consider this my effort to save you from yourself.”

“I don’t need saving.” He snatches the money back, stuffing it into his wallet in a wad. I immediately regret it. My nipples are already tingling, and my dick is just shy of rising obviously in my pants. He may not be my type, but there is something compelling about the way he’s suffering and what he wants.

“You need something,” I say.

“Well, obviously this isn’t the place I’m gonna find it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” I don’t have a clue what the fuck I’m doing right now, only that I’ve shifted into slut mode, and I can tell this by the way I’m displaying my body, running a hand up my neck and kicking out a hip. I let my other hand rest on my belt buckle and stare up at him. Something about someone willing to ruin their life for me is almost too flattering to resist. Who am I to try and save him if he wants to destroy himself? Like I have such strict morals. As if.

“You just gave me my money back.”

Fifty dollars is nothing to me, but then again, it’s the principle of the thing. I can’t have him thinking I’m considering the offer because I merely want my nipples sucked, by him in particular. And who knows? Maybe it’s easier for a man to justify cheating with a prostitute than someone who might actually catch feelings.

“Here’s what I propose...”

He takes a deep breath, and his tense shoulders relax.

“You give me fifty dollars to suck my nipples, and you agree to let me film myself jerking off to the point of orgasm while you do it.” I examine his reaction, which I can only describe as stoic. His only tell is a slight tick in his jaw, but I don’t know him well enough to know what it means.

“The camera would only be on your dick?” he asks.

I nod.

“For fifty bucks, what all am I allowed to touch?”

“Below the chin, above the waist?” I throw out.

He nods thoughtfully. “Okay.”

“Really?” I burst.

“You want me to think about this more?”

“I think you might want to reconsider after you’ve had something to eat.”

“Nah. I’m not hungry anymore.”

I lift a brow. “What are you?”

His eyes flash with a different kind of hunger. Voracious. Without hesitation, he reaches for the shoulder straps of the harness I put on for him and pushes them down my arms. I contract my shoulder blades to allow him to slide them off more easily. “You gonna leave your glasses on?”

“Unless you want to wait for me to put my contacts in.”

He shakes his head. “Where do you want to do this?”

“The bed seems like an obvious choice.”

Asher nods toward the bedroom, his pulse jumping in his throat, and says, “Okay.”

“You don’t sound excited,” I tease.

“Neither do you.”

He’s not wrong. I’m honestly nervous. I can’t remember the last time a straight guy wanted anything from me. I’ve got gay and bisexual men coming to me in droves, but a straight man? You know what? I’d rather not think about that. Best to keep this as transactional as possible.

He follows me into the bedroom, and I dig my phone out of my pocket using muscle memory to pull up the video camera. “You’re okay with me being naked?” I ask, casting him a glance over my shoulder.

He flips on the overhead light, and his gaze catches mine, his pupils dilating even as I watch. He nods.

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