Page 88 of The Influencer

My head rears back at the question. “I can’t stay over?”

“Jade…”

“No,” I shake my head, grinning. “Say the whole thing.”

“Jadey. Baby. It’s probably better if you scoot your pretty ass back to your own room.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re tired.”

“Is this not a bed?” I ask.

“Because spooning costs extra.”

No lies detected there. “Be honest with me,” I say, propping my chin in my hand. “Are you afraid to spend the night with me?”

“Maybe…”

“Why?” I whisper.

“I snore.”

I laugh. “Other than that.”

“I’m trying not to get too attached here. Help me out, will you?”

“Is this because I sucked someone else’s dick before I came in here?”

His eyes tell me everything I need to know to answer that question.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll go. But I can’t promise to stay away.”

“Get some rest, okay?”

“You want me to bring you some underwear?”

“Would you mind? The piercings?—”

“Say less. I’ll be right back.”

I grab my things on the way out of Asher’s room and cross the hall. Taking my favorite black silk robe from the hook on my closet door, I put it on, loving the feel of it on my freshly fucked skin.

Enough men have been my guests that I have a fabulous assortment of left-behind designer briefs to choose from. Asher is bigger than my usual hook-ups, though—not my type—not my type—but I find the largest D&Gs and ferry them back to his room.

He licks his lips when he sees me, taking a moment to meet my eyes before his gaze is drawn back to the robe. I genuinely can’t tell which version of me he prefers, and it’s driving me a little bananas. If he wants femme—I can go all out—as ladylike as he pleases. If he wants sassy—I have plenty of cut-off shirts and booty shorts to delight his gaze. If he wants t-shirts and joggers, please. I’ve got him covered.

“Here.” I hold out the briefs.

He takes them and holds them up. “Should work for now.”

“Okay. Well. Guess this is good night.”

He eyes me warily. “Good night.”

“I had fun,” I tell him.

“Same. And thanks for the bed.”

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