Page 14 of Plum

Austin ducks right out.

“Why’d you do that? You want a blow job? I ain’t sayin’ no, but you overpaid.”

He sucks in a breath, and it takes him a long while to answer. When he does, I don’t get it at all.

“I want you to tell me what you’re going to spend it on.”

“And then you’ll tell me what it’s for?”

“That’s what it’s for. Let’s say I’ve decided to invest in Plum Pudding. What’s my five hundred dollars going toward?”

I thought I’d heard of most kinks, but I must say, this is a new one. I don’t judge, though. Not in my line of work.

“The mortgage.”

“You own a house?”

Why does he seem so pleased? Oh, shit.That’swhat’s going on.

He must have White Knight Syndrome. I’ve run into these guys. They want to rescue you from the life. Save you from yourself. There’s always a catch, and the catch isalwaysway worse than whoring. If a man’s so desperate to save a woman, it’s because he needs his women weak. If you don’t turn out to be a damsel in distress, he’ll make you one.

“Plum?”

Oh. What had he asked? Did I have a house? “Yeah. I do.”

“Tell me about it.”

I’m shaking my head before the words are out of his mouth.

“Unh, unh. You’ve got the wrong idea. I don’t do in-house. It’s here, or if you’re payin’, the El-Car Motel, but Austin comes with and sits in the bathroom. And you have to wait ’til my shift ends.”

“The El-Car motel?” Adam shakes his head, baffled-like. “Never mind. I’m not asking to go to your house. I want to know what my money will be going toward. Call it idle curiosity.”

“I call it bullshit.”

He laughs and runs a finger down the bridge of my nose.

“Did you know your nose scrunches up when you’re suspicious?”

It does? Don’t most people’s? I shift. Adam rearranges my legs so they dangle down on either side of his hips, and I sway to work out the stiffness in my hips. I’m pressed flat against him now, and there’s no mistaking the baseball bat in his pants.

Why isn’t he whipping it out?

“Your house…” Adam winds his arms around me and starts in on my back again. Sheer. Fucking. Heaven. “Tell me about it. No identifying details. Is it a standalone?”

“No. A duplex.”

“How are the neighbors?”

“Deaf as a stone.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good when I have people over. Bad whenThe Big Bang Theory’son.”

“What color is it?”

I don’t answer. That sounds to me like one of thoseidentifying details.

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