“And you would get what?” She scoffs. “My body?”
I picture her lying in her bed, shirtless with her nipples hard, cradling a phone to her cheek. “And I would get….a bunch of free weed?”
“Exactly. And you give me a cut of what you sell.”
“How big a cut?” she asks.
“Sixty.”
She scoffs. “That doesn’t sound so great for me.”
“You have no overhead. You pay me nothing. It’s all profit to you.”
She sighs. “Thereby making me a whore.”
“My whore. I treat my whores better than most men treat their wives. I should add…you would get my body, too.”
I went with an arrogant voice, and it did the trick. She giggles.
I arch a brow as I stroke my aching dick. “What’s so funny, Cleo?”
“I can’t believe I’m talking about this. With Kellan Walsh of all people.”
I lean back against the wall and lift my legs up onto the second-story floor. I raise my knees and spread my legs slightly. “The insults keep coming.”
She snorts. “You’re an uptight, rule-following douche—or so I thought.”
“I do make a strong—and wrong—first impression.”
I hear her yawn. “I never thought I’d be discussing stuff like this with you. I can’t believe you called me after I got you in the balls.”
“I didn’t call to chat.” I’m going for stern, but I feel like I can hear a smile when she says, “What did you call to do?”
I imagine her pussy, spread open—pink and dripping. “I wanted to give you one more chance to work with me. To live with me. To be fucked by me.”
“Your arrogance astonishes me, Mr. Walsh.”
I try to analyze her voice and find it curious. Soft and feminine and definitely curious, despite claiming she was scared.
She wants me.
Just like I want her.
“Let me make you come—right now. With just my words. When I do, you’ll move in with me.”