Page 76 of Pretending I'm Yours

She shrugs. “What can I say? I really like your cock. I would have missed it if we went our separate ways. A lot. Like…a lota lot a lot.”

I grin. “Three a lots? That’s…a lot.”

She laughs. “Yeah, it is. It’s my favorite.”

“It’s youronly,” some twisted part of me feels compelled to remind her. “Is that going to be something you regret someday?”

She tilts her head, studying me as she considers the question. “I don’t think so, but…if I do, I guess we could always go back to the club and find a hot guy to have sex with me while you watch.”

My insides liquify at the thought, and I’m pretty sure the top of my head opens to let out a burst of steam. But before I can respond, Maya bursts into delighted laughter.

“Oh my, you should see your face,” she says, still laughing. “I was kidding, baby. I don’t want to be with other men, especially not while you watch. Don’t have a heart attack.”

“We’ll see who’s having a heart attack,” I say, tackling her onto the mattress. I roll her beneath me as she giggles, clearly very pleased with herself.

I show her how pleased I am with her, too, this time from behind while she cries out into the pillow.

Afterwards, we head downstairs for snacks, and end up snuggling on the couch with Pudge, sipping tea and eating shortbread cookies while looking over a copy of the loan contract on my phone.

“This is a lot of money,” she says, searching my face as she finishes her final cookie and pulls Pudge into her lap, scratching our sleepy boy’s big belly.

He’s not officially “ours” yet, but I plan on asking her to move in with me tomorrow. Or maybe later tonight if I can’t force myself to wait. But thank God, Maya doesn’t seem to mind that where she’s concerned, I have no patience for delayed satisfaction.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she continues as Pudge begin to purr loud enough to make us both smile. “You don’t have to. I promise. It won’t affect the way I feel about you.”

“Well, it would affect the way I feel about myself,” I say. “This is your dream, and the only thing standing in your way is the capital to make it happen. I believe in the project, and I believe in you.”

Her gaze softens. “Thanks. I believe in you, too, though. And if you need that money to launch your own ‘next thing’ now that you’ve left your old job, I totally understand that. I’m not sure what ‘richer than God’ means, but even God needs seed money sometimes. And you have to put your own needs first.”

I clear my throat, a little uncomfortable about this part, but determined to be honest with her about everything from now on. “My portfolio usually earns what I’m loaning you in less than a month. I’ll be fine.”

Her jaw drops. “What the… You earn four hundred thousand dollars in returns in less than a month?”

“Interest and returns. Yes.” I give a sheepish shrug. “Like I said, I’m good with numbers. And I started investing when I was eighteen. Compound interest can do a lot in twenty years. Which reminds me, we should get you set up with an investment account ASAP. Time is on your side now more than it ever will be and you should take advantage of that to secure your future. Just in case you decide to kick me to the curb down the road and don’t inherit everything when I die.”

“Hush, don’t talk about dying.” She reaches over putting two fingers to my lips, making Pudge meow in protest as he’s squished deeper into her lap. She pulls back, apologizing to the cat, “Sorry, buddy, but I don’t like to hear Anthony talking about dying.” To me, she adds, “I just found you. You don’t get to die for a long, long time.”

I smile as I pull her sock-covered feet into my lap, giving them a squeeze. “I’ll do my best, but I am sixteen years older than you are. And men don’t tend to live as long as women. Statistically, it’s likely I’m going first. Probably by a decade or two at minimum.”

She frowns harder. “Stop it. Right now. That’s quitter talk. Look at the shape you’re in. You’re a Roman statue come to life. You’re going to live to be a hundred and ten. Maybe a hundred and twenty.”

“I’ll try,” I say, rubbing her instep. “But just in case I have a more average life span, I’m hoping you won’t fault me for not wanting to wait too long to take the next step.”

Then, I ask her to move in with me. She says, “why the heck not,” and we head back to bed, this time with Pudge, who tails us up the stairs, refusing to be left by himself. As we slide under the covers with Maya’s head on my chest, he curls up beside us, purring, clearly pleased with the way things are progressing.

“But I have one request before I take you up on the loan,” Maya says, yawning as she snuggles closer.

“Name it,” I say, kissing the top of her head, hoping she knows I’d give her a kidney if she asked for it.

“You have to keep the money I paid for the escort service,” she says, a smile in her sleepy voice. “My entire life, I’ve been a very good girl. I need one scandalous story to tell when I’m old and gray. And saying that I met the love of my life after I hired him to sex me up is about as scandalous as it gets.”

I grin at the ceiling. “You areveryscandalous.”

“So, you’ll keep it.”

“I will,” I say, already making plans for that seven-thousand-dollars. “And I’ll never forget how kind you were to me when you thought I was an aging boy toy who needed someone to believe in him to change his life for the better.”

She sighs. “You’ll always be my boy toy, baby.”

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