Page 77 of Tips and Trysts

“You absolutely won’t. I don’t half-ass things and I sure as hell don’t date men who half-ass anything, including political campaigns.”

Everett’s mouth curls at the corner. “Alright. I’ll see you Friday night?”

“Not until late—like early Saturday morning. I’m going out.”

“Girls’ night?”

“No, I’m trying to pick up a guy.”

I’m not sure what reaction I expected, but none of my expectations could have been remotely close to Everett sitting catatonic for fifteen seconds.

“Because Beverly told me I had to,” I fill in quickly. “Obviously, not an actual pick up. Just a conversation and…wow, you could give the Statue of David a run for its money with that stare. Look, we need to level set. Everett—baby, look at me. We’ve been over this, but once again: I’m a camgirl,” I say, enunciating each word. “Every week, hundreds of men look at my wet, naked pussy and my marvelous tits and watch me do obscene things with them. Are you comfortable—okay, you just licked your lips and now you’re biting the lower one, so I’m going to take that as a yes.”

At the mention of me camming, Everett is smirking. “I’mverycomfortable. Sure, we can leave it at that.”

“Well, if you’re comfortable with allthat,” I continue, “surely you’ll be comfortable with me having one drink at a bar with a guy.”

His smirk fades. “Can’t you fake date Dalton?”

“And face Essie’s wrath? Pass. She’s tiny but terrifying.” I soften my expression. “You know nothing’s going to happen.”

“I know, but this doesn’t sit well with me.” He sighs, looking through the windshield at the quiet garage. “But at the same time, I guess I should be grateful. You’re good at this, which bodes well for me making you the First Lady of the United States.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re out of control.”

Everett grins before he reaches into his glove compartment and takes out his wallet.

“Shit,” I realize, “I still have your credit card.” I take my phone out of my purse and slide the heavy black card out of my case.

He doesn’t take it from me. “That’s not mine.”

“Well, it’s not my Centurion card.”

He lifts his chin. “Look at it.”

I do—and it takes me a beat to process what I’m seeing: My name is on an Amex Black Card.

“What the fuck,” I mouth, practically gaping at it. “How?”

“I added you as an authorized user. It’s basically limitless, so get anything you want.”

I turn the card over in my hand. It’s so much heavier than a regular card. It justfeelsexpensive. “When did you order this? Up until tonight, I’d never even touched your dick.”

“I watched thirty of your old streams and immediately requested it.” He picks up his phone and swipes before he clicks his tongue. “I need you to spend more.”

“What are you talking about?”

He rotates his phone. His Amex app is open to his current balance, where the only transaction item is the hundred and seventy dollars I spent on sex toys while I was waiting for the debate to begin. “Spend more.”

“On what?”

“Everything you want. I’m not going to have my girl wanting for anything.Spend more.”

I haven’t struggled with money since I started camming, but I’ve always been cautious with spending. Sensible. My parents were humble with what little money we had, and I haven’t shaken the mindset. But Everett is eager, tapping his fingertips on the wheel while he waits for a response.

“Alright,” I agree. “I’ll spend more.”

He beams. “Taking my money like a good whore,” he murmurs before reaching out and squeezing my thigh. “And taking all that cum and leaving it right where I put it. You’re a natural at this.” Then his hand goes back to the glove compartment, where hepulls out a thick stack of bills. “You earned this,” he tells me before handing me the cash.

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