Page 1 of The Rich One

CHAPTERONE

“Get on your knees, you worthless piece of shit.”

The shower isn’t very big, but there’s enough room for the guy I’m pegging to turn around, get on his knees and kneel at my feet. He stares up at me with lust-filled eyes as I grab the sides of his face and position myself over him.

And then I let it out. I pee all over his hair like I’m giving him a shower—which I am. A golden one. Groans of pleasure erupt from him as he palms his dick, roughly tugging at it before he spurts all over his hand just as I dry up.

“Good boy.” After helping him stand, I turn the shower on, full and hot. Cleanliness is essential when engaging in watersports. I’m careful with my wig because getting it wet would kill my client’s fantasy.

He doesn’t speak as he scrubs his tanned, athletic body, but that’s not unusual for him. This is the third time I’ve seen him in the last three years. Always on the same day, always the same request, always the same humiliation. This guy is definitely broken.

Stepping out of the shower, he wraps his waist with a fluffy dark-blue towel before grabbing my pink one and folding it around me. I always bring my own since it’s the only way to guarantee it hasn’t been spunked on before I rub it all over my body. Past experience has taught me a few things, and bringing my own towel is one of them.

“Thank you,Rose. Can I book you in for the same time next year, please?” His complete submissive demeanor has faded now that we’re dressed, his tailored Armani suit giving back some of his power. Though he still holds an air of shyness to him. My background check on him told me he works for his dad, something dealing with finance. He’s a private person, the most I’ve ever heard him speak was at his first booking when we briefly discussed what he wanted, rules, and safe words. Since then, he’s usually waiting on his knees at the foot of the hotel room bed before I arrive, and his only words are “yes, miss” when I demand them—and his request to book his next appointment.

“Of course, John. I’ll schedule you in, and we can arrange the location via email a little closer to the date of our next meeting.” He nods in agreement as I grab my small travel bag full of goodies and wheel it to the door. He doesn't look like a John, but then again, I guess I don’t look like a Rose, either. I know he's using an alias just like I am, but at three-thousand dollars for a couple of hours, I’ll call him the fucking Easter bunny if that’s what gets him off.

This isn’t the life I would have chosen for myself. It’s not like I dreamed of being a call girl while playing with my Barbie dolls. I didn’t write essays at school about fucking men for cash as my end goal. In fact, I didn’t even go to school. My hippie parents wouldn’t allow it, and my brother and I were home-schooled.

No matter how free-loving my family was, I still never imagined my life going in this direction.

Yet, here I am.

Do I regret it? I probably should. However, every time I see the happiness on my brother Everest’s face, I suck it up and tell myself there’s a reason for everything.

I suppose my only respite is that I still get to choose who I fuck. Nobody has a hold on me except for my guilt. Even that is a rarity.

I don't bother with a drawn-out goodbye. There really is no need. I tilt my head slightly in his direction to indicate we're done here as I open the door and walk out. Leaving him to meticulously tie his shoes.

As the door clicks shut behind me, I wonder—and not for the first time—what the hell happened to this man, to this brown-eyed Greek God? People aren’t born dark and broken, life makes them this way.

The cool night air hits my bare legs as I step outside of the hotel, my knee-length coat keeping the worst of the chill from reaching the rest of my body. The walk home should only take about twenty minutes, but Louboutin’s are not made for walking that kind of distance on these New York streets, especially not at night.

Hailing the first available cab, I ask the driver to stop at my favorite taco place on the way. Food always helps me sleep easier after a long, adrenaline-fueled evening. I promised my brother I’d help him and his wife, Petal, unpack and get settled into their new little suburban house in Staten Island tomorrow morning, so tonight is going to be exceptionally short and I need all the sleep I can get. He’s lucky I love them. I wouldn’t get up at five in the morning for anyone else. Unless they were paying me of course.

He’s also lucky our fine-ass best friend, Kai, is going to be helping out.

Taco in hand, I step out of the cab, pay the driver, close the door, and am greeted by Mr. Bobby’s smiling face. The man is basically a fixture of the old and crumbling building, sitting at his usual spot on the stoop and watching the comings and goings of everyone in the neighborhood. He lives on the bottom floor of our building and is fifty years my senior, but I won’t deny having sat with him a few times to watch the world go by with something a little stronger than the coffee he usually drinks.

“Evening, Mr. Bobby.” I give a little finger wave in greeting.

“Evening to you too, my girl. Where is your gentleman friend and why isn’t he seeing you to your door?” The smirk on his face and the crinkle in his eyes do little to hide his amusement. He often tells me I need to find a nice young man to settle down and have kids with before I get too old. Which is laughable—I’m only twenty-six, and I have no desire to have children. Every time I come home late, he asks these questions, trying to get me to spill all my secrets. It never works, but he seems to enjoy trying. It’s kind of our thing.

“He had to rush off on a secret mission to Mars, so he shoved me in a cab and sent me on my way.” He shakes his head and rolls his brown eyes at me as I can’t keep a straight face. “Anyway, what are you still doing out here at this time of night? It’s almost nine-thirty. You’re usually settled in your apartment by now.”

“Ah, don’t mind me, I was just finishing up my coffee. Come on, I’ll head inside with you.”

“I’ll even hold the door for you.” I give him a quick side hug, ruffle the small amount of white hair on top of his head and pull the door open before following him inside the building.

Finally taking off my wig as I step inside my apartment is one of the most satisfying things a girl can experience—even more than taking my shoes off, but not as much as multiple orgasms. My head suddenly feels lighter, and I’m no longer Rose. I’m River again. Not that Mr. Bobby ever notices, he is used to my ever-changing hair by now. I finish off my taco before stripping and taking another steaming hot shower, washing my short hair this time too.

As much as showering with my clients gets me clean, it doesn’t compare to the quiet moment of solitude where I can wash my work day away. Although a long shower with Kai is equally satisfying. Our first time together, he took such good care of me afterward. Taking the time to massage my head as he washed my hair, caressing my soapy body with his huge work-worn hands, placing gentle kisses all over me and expecting nothing in return. A shower always feels so clinical with my clients, but with Kai, it was nothing short of Heaven.

It wasn’t long after this that we decided neither of us were in the right headspace to be together properly, and the way he unknowingly broke my heart before that moment was still ingrained into my brain. I mean, this hasn’t stopped us fucking around since then, but that’s all it ever is.

Once I’m dried off and wearing my favorite unicorn jammies, I lie on my bed, and allow my thoughts to drift again. Tomorrow should be fun. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve seen Kai, and I can’t say I’m not looking forward to it.

I’m about to doze off when the flashing light from my phone drags me back into consciousness. It’s an unknown number on my work phone but I’m too tired to deal with clients tonight.

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