She was right.
Sexually, I would never get the free lunch I had with Rachel. Hands down, she was the kinkiest, most amenable lover I’d ever been with, but that was it. Sex on a stick. I wanted… no needed, more.
“You’re amazing, Rachel. Sexually, you’re a rock star and the kinkiest lover I’ve ever had. If I were choosing with my dick, you’d win,” I said gently.
“So, there is someone else,” she realized, defeated.
“Kind of.” I was going for honesty.
“What does that mean?”
“I met a girl I’d like to know better. She’s a waitress I met in Connecticut. Well, not a waitress anymore, she’s an artist and an educator. The point is, she’s different than any woman I’ve met before. I like her.” I was surprised by my own frankness.
Rachel laughed. “You can have the both of us. You just met, right? No need to get all righteous on me.”
“Actually, I want to be a little righteous, just for a change of pace,” I said cautiously.
“What is she? A conservative Christian? Doesn’t strike me as your type. I’ve never even seen you pick up a bible,” she joked, but I heard the stress behind the words.
“I’m not sure what her religious affiliation is. I just, well, my reputation has preceded me and she thinks me incapable of anything resembling love.”
Why was my mouth still talking?
“She’s smart,” Rachel said. She knew me well.
“I want to prove her wrong.”
“Oh fuck, no. You have a crush. What is she? Supermodel gorgeous?” she asked sarcastically.
“Yes, but—”
“Then she won’t care. She probably loves herself more than she’ll ever love you. Just keep all the fucking on the DL.”
Still naked, Rachel pressed against me, running her hand down to my softened cock. Like the traitor it was, it pulsed, and she laughed.
“See, you want me.”
“Any man in his right mind would want you,” I said gently, seeing the hurt behind her actions. “I’m not in my right mind right now. I want to get to know this other woman. I want to see where it leads.”
Her jaw tightened, but she stepped away. “Fine. I’ll go home. In fact, when you call me, I won’t answer. Then when you do fuck your little conservative Christian waitress, see if little Miss Missionary is better than this.” She slid her finger down her wet center and wiped the juice across my lips.
It pissed me off, and I swiped at my face with my sleeve. “It’s time for you to go.”
We faced off. “So, you planning on being celibate until Miss Missionary puts out?”
“Yes.”
Fuck. Did I really just say that? Yes. Yes, I did. And the confession was a relief.
She laughed and began pulling on her clothes. “Well, good luck with that.”
In just a few moments, my fix would walk out the door. If I really wanted to go through with this, then I would have to let a totally free, absolutely no strings attached pussy waltz out of my life. I nearly stopped her. She turned to me and smiled.
“You know, little righteous girls don’t suck cock or scream your name while they take it up the ass.”
I said nothing, just took a few steps toward my door.
A glint came into her eyes. “Let’s put money on it. You practice abstinence until you crack Chastity’s clam. If you fuck someone else, it will be news and I’ll know. You can text me a screenshot of her sending a pathetic ‘it was the best sex of my life’ message.”
Whatever. I just wanted her gone. “Fine.”
She grinned. “What are we wagering?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Winner decides.”
She smiled. “This’ll be fun.”
She blew me a kiss and was gone.
Sinking onto the couch, I leaned my head back, totally exhausted. It was a hell of a lot easier to be an asshole. It took less work. Less thought. Less everything.
Then I thought of auburn hair and big brown eyes.
Little Caitlyn Ashcroft was worth it.
Hell, she better be.
CHAPTER NINE
Caitlyn
I woke up the next morning still high from my day with KP. It all seemed like a dream — one amazing dream. I had a hard time accepting the fact that I was no longer broke, and it didn’t sink in until KP’s accountant called. We went over the details of the contract, defining how much money I would be getting from the sale and when I would be getting it. Even with all the facts, figures and details, it still wasn’t sinking in that I was almost a millionaire.
When I finished my phone conversation, I just sat there and cried. Everything in life seemed so big and overwhelming, I could barely function. I called Tammy. She was my rock, she would fix me.
“Hey, you,” I said when she answered her cell.
“Hey, you back. How’s Gran today? Everything okay? I’m at work, but you know I’ll drop everything if I need to.” There was a sad note of fear in her voice.
“No, nothing’s changed from yesterday. She’s still out of it, and the hospital won’t release her yet. I’m going to see her in a few, and I’ll update you then.”
“Okay…” her voice still sounded worried. “So, what’s wrong? You never call while I’m at work unless something’s wrong.”
“Right, sorry. Well, are you sitting down, cause what I’m going to tell you might knock you over.”
“Yeah, I’m sitting. Hit me with it.” She was worried, I could tell.
“I sold all my paintings to that guy who came into the diner,” I said in one breath.
“Him? But… but you hate him.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples. “Yeah, I know. It’s a long story, but Tam… I’m a millionaire. He bought them for that, and he’s commissioned me to paint another one for him. I’m… I’m…” I didn’t know what I was.
If anyone was going to call me out on my shit, it would be Tammy. She’s like me. She could give a damn about money. If I was compromising my ideals and beliefs, especially for money —or sex or anything else — I was gonna die by her hand.
“What exactly do you mean about painting one for him? Of what, Caitlyn Marie Ashcroft?”
“First, you’re not my mother, so don’t Caitlyn Marie me. Second, it’s legit. His lawyer drafted a contract that his accountant discussed with me on the phone a few minutes ago. It’s all legal. The money is going through Miguel first, then I should have my part by Monday. The commissioned work is like for five hundred an hour or some craziness.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“Why would I do that? Like hey, Tam, I’m a millionaire. Just kidding.”
“Okay, is anyone going to be naked?” She was being a mother again.
“If anyone is naked, it’s my choice. If I want to paint them or sleep with them or—”
“Hold up,” she interrupted, “it’s your choice, but you may not have all your faculties in order with Gran sick and him dangling a million clams at you. Are you considering sleeping with this guy? Cat, you hardly know him. That’s like some serious kept-girl shit.”
“I’m not, I was just seeing if you were paying attention,” I lied. I really was testing her reaction to see what I would face if I did choose to sleep with KP.