Page 17 of Priceless

He lifted my chin with one finger. “I want it to be crystal clear exactly what we’re here for.” Each word hung in the freezing air. “No more, no less. No questions, no lies.”

I nodded quickly.

“Is that a yes?”

I looked both ways — we were alone. I touched my phone in my coat pocket for reassurance. I watched the fan of bills flutter in the winter wind, then stared up at the snowflakes caught in Patrick’s eyelashes.

“Yes,” I croaked.

“Say it.” He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “Say, ‘Yes, Patrick, I want to fuck you for money.’”

“Don’t feed me lines,” I snapped. “I said yes. I’ll do it. We have a deal.”

“Good.” He put the bills in his coat pocket.

“Hey,” I protested. “I get those.”

He smiled at me, and my stomach lurched. “You’ll earn them. Don’t worry.” Eyeing me with intense satisfaction, he rested one hand on the wall, next to my head. “If something’s too much for you, sayevergreen, and I’ll stop. Anything else you say, I won’t stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

A massive fist tangled in my hair. A heavy body pushed me against the wall by the ATM, with a suddenness that drove the breath out of me. Patrick’s mouth closed over mine.

His lips were cold, but his tongue was hot. Demanding. Taking.

I gasped, trying to get control of the kiss, but I couldn’t. His tongue was everywhere, fucking my mouth. He pulled my head back by the hair. His body caged me in, hard and huge. And I was fucking moaning, rubbing against him like I was possessed, my knees about to give out.

“Take it easy,” I panted, breaking the kiss. My head was spinning.

“You’re right.” His smile made me shiver. “We have all night.”

His lips met mine more lightly, his hand still in my hair, tipping my head back as he loosened my scarf. He kissed down my neck, waking every spot of skin that his lips brushed. With his free hand, he began unzipping my puffy down jacket.

“We’re outside,” I protested.

“Mm-hm.” My jacket parted and hung open. He reached inside his coat pocket.

“It’s cold.”

He kissed me again. Soft, licking my lips, making my mouth open to his tongue. I was obeying, totally out of control of what was going on, sucking on his tongue in desperate excitement. His free hand was busy, but I couldn’t tell with what.

“I’ll help you with that,” he murmured. “Don’t worry, babe. You won’t be cold at all soon.”

Something papery brushed my chest, tracing a line down my cleavage. Money. Oh my God. A rolled-up twenty slid slowly between my breasts.

“What the hell?”

My nipples tightened, painfully hard through my shirt. I gripped his hand, but I didn’t push it away. I held it against my breasts. I thrust against his heavy thigh, wedged between mine. My head was spinning, my breath catching.

“What do you mean, what the hell?” His kisses deepened.

I wrenched my mouth free, because I was falling. Was I? No, Patrick was holding me up while I squeezed his thigh between mine. The concrete wall was cold and solid against my back. But I was coming apart.

My gaze skated to him, to the snow, to the crisp bill he’d just tucked into my bra.

“What do you mean?” he repeated. God, that voice. Deep and knowing and so fucking…condescending. “Tell me. I want to know.”

For a minute, I couldn’t answer.

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