Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Now it was about earning it.
She finally said something. “That was nice…”
My hand moved into her hair and pulled it out of her face. “Something to look forward to. The real thing will be much better.”
“I have a hard time believing that…”
“Then take my word for it.” My hands moved to her ass, and I gripped her cheeks with my massive fingers. “Here’s another lesson for you. Never leave your partner hanging. And right now, I’m so hard I could explode—especially after watching you come like that.”
Her fingers played with my hair, and she smiled at me. “What did you have in mind?”
“You give damn good head…I’ll say that much.”
She lowered her hands from my body and slowly slid to the floor, getting on her knees in between my thighs.
It was the first blow job I’d ever received in my penthouse, right in the living room in front of the TV.
“That act will be hard to follow.” She grabbed my shaft and pointed my dick toward the ceiling. “But I can try.”
12
Monroe
It was the first time I checked the mail and received something besides bills and spam.
I received a letter from the bank. It said that my two student loans had been closed.
Closed?
The new balance reflected zero dollars.
Zero dollars?
My loans had been paid off?
Well, I didn’t do that. So who did?
One name came to mind—Slate.
I sat on the couch and called him. Now that I had his number, I didn’t have to stop by his office every time I wanted to talk to him. And I didn’t have to show up on his doorstep either. It rang a few times before he answered.
“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice sounded deeper on the phone. Masculine and authoritative, he could be intimidating with just simple words. Without his beautiful package visible, he was just a powerful voice over the line. “Just finished my workout. What are you doing?”
“Just finished working out?” I asked. “Are you sure you didn’t drop by the bank today?”
After a long pause of silence, he chuckled. “Got the letter in the mail, huh?”
“Yes. Which means you paid it off a week ago.”
“More like four days ago…but pretty close.”
I gripped the letter in my hand, feeling furious rather than relieved. “Why would you do that?”
“You can’t figure it out?”
“Uh, no. I know you wouldn’t just give me the money, so what’s your angle?”
“It’s simple. I’ve paid off your student loans so you can see how nice it is to keep more of your check. That way you’ll be more motivated to keep your promise. You have the money…now you have to pay for it.”
“Wow, that was a dick move.”
“Really?” he asked. “I thought it was generous.”
“Not generous at all. Look, I told you I’m not ready—”
“And I will wait until you are,” he said calmly. “But I’m not going to let you keep teasing me. You’ve done it twice now—not gonna happen again. Now you have to uphold your end of the bargain. When you choose to do that is up to you.”
I squeezed the letter in my hand, my rage slowly slipping away. I wanted to stay mad at him, but since the financial burden had officially been lifted off my shoulders, it was difficult not to feel a sense of hope. Knowing I wouldn’t have to make those payments that month drastically changed my life. I could actually afford food now. I could actually save a little bit of money every month. “Why do you want to fuck me so bad?”
“My reasons don’t matter.”
“Is it because of the chase? Is it because I’m the one thing you can’t have?”
He took his time before he answered. “Your guess is as good as mine. Now, I’m surprised I still haven’t heard a thank you.”
“For what?”
“Making your life a million times easier.”
“You did it to trap me.”
“Maybe. But I’ve still given you all the control. You tell me when and where. I just have to sit and wait. Now that the financial stress is gone, perhaps you’ll warm up to me. Perhaps you’ll feel gratitude. As your money piles up in your bank account, you’ll thank me for those numbers. And maybe your legs will open a little more…”
My favorite moments with him were the times we went to lunch.
There was no pressure at all. We were in public in broad daylight, so there was no affection of any kind, no expectations. To any onlooker, we seemed like two friends or colleagues getting lunch together—and nothing more.
We went to a pizzeria, and Slate ordered a salad and only ate one slice of pizza.
Now that I wouldn’t be paying an extra fifteen hundred bucks a month in student loans, I didn’t have to stuff myself every time we went out together. I could afford groceries, so I could pack a lunch every single day. Crackers would no longer be a part of my diet.