Chapter 16
After only having slept a few hours last night and being out in the sun for a long shift at the pool today, I had a couple hours to rest and get ready for work tonight.
Every night of my life since I’d started this gig, I typically dreaded every shift. The money was always worth it in the end, but the anxiety of meeting up with strangers would forever take a toll on me.
Just the thought alone exhausted me—having to dress up, be on the top of my game, ready to perform with freshly shaved legs, and a full face of makeup.
My body craved sleep, a nap before a long night. But my mind had been racing all day. From the moment I left Spencer this morning after he made me breakfast in bed, I couldn’t shake our night together.
What was supposed to be just one night, turned into, I’ll see you tomorrow.
His filthy mouth, the way he took control and kissed me, that look on his face as he came in his sweatpants, the power he held when he wouldn’t fuck me, but made me come anyway.
The way he held me all night and cooked for me this morning—he checked my boxes and accomplished exactly what he aimed to do last night.
He wanted to show me what it would be like to be with him. A man. Not a boy.
Mission fucking accomplished.
After just one night with Spencer, I couldn’t even picture my happiest days with Jax. I knew from the moment things turned last night that my night with Spencer would be incredibly hard to top.
He’d ruin all other men for me.
I felt like my head was on a damn tilt-a-whirl and it wouldn’t stop spinning.
What was I supposed to do with these impending feelings? I can’t turn back now. Every month a payment was due to Jax, and to get rid of the problem lingering over my head, I needed to continue to work until the money he was demanding was paid in full.
Pulling up my text thread, I shot off a message to the group chat.
Me: The Italian Stallion won me over and I don’t know what to do.
When I needed advice or just a safe place to vent, they were my home.
Growing up, I never had a girl group. I kept everyone I knew at a distance.
The embarrassment I’d have to endure if I ever wanted to bring a friend home was something I knew at a young age would never be worth it.
I couldn’t risk rumors flying and girls being mean.
It would be easy to choose me as their target if they came over and realized I didn’t have anything in my room besides a shitty mattress and a closet with only a few outfits from the local thrift store.
It wasn’t always so bad. When I was younger, before Dad found his addiction, we had a good life.
A distant memory hung over my head, reminding me that once upon a time, I had a normal childhood.
It wasn’t until I was around ten years old that my parents became withdrawn.
What used to be a room full of toys and frilly, pink princess décor faded away over time.
My toys and most cherished items were sold at garage sales for any dollar my parents could get their hands on until I was left with the bare minimum.
My mother would dress in pearls and her most striking outfits, but instead of giving up her material items, my most treasured items—the only things that brought me joy—would be the first to go.
While I always wanted to confide in the girls at school and to build genuine friendships, I never found myself connecting with them. They wouldn’t understand. They were busy living their lives as carefree children while I was counting down the days until I was old enough to be free.
It wasn’t until I moved that I somehow built up enough good karma that I was granted two best friends who instantly became family. We’d all been through our shit in life, and we each had one another to lean on when times became hard.
You could say we trauma bonded over drinks one night. But that one night ended up turning into a lifelong friendship instead. We went to each other about everything. Heartbreaks, mind-blowing one-night stands, our innermost dark thoughts—everything.
My phone dinged with a response.
Andi: Tell me, did he send you a picture of his big cock?
Peyton: Jesus, Andi.
Peyton: Okay, but I’m kind of curious too…
Oh, they had no idea. Shaking my head, I bit my lip to stifle the laugh brewing in my belly.
I spent the next few minutes drilling my thumbs into the screen of my phone, filling them in on my client that wasn’t actually my client, but instead, ended up being Spencer.
How he had an entire night planned and paid me a shit ton.
How we got physical, but not too physical, and how he was still able to make me come harder than I ever had, and I wasn’t even naked.
Andi: So, basically, you spent a night away from your little home on wheels and had a full-on Pretty Woman moment?
Peyton: The fancy high-rise, the huge payment, the hot, rich older man. It’s screaming Julia Roberts, babe.
Me: Definitely felt like it. Want to know the worst part?
Peyton: Was it his penis?
Andi: Please tell us it wasn’t the penis…
My head tipped back as a hyena style laugh spilled out of me.
Me: I didn’t even get to see his penis. It definitely wasn’t the penis.
God, I had felt his penis, though. The way it rubbed along my thighs. His hard length bulging from his pants. The way his sweatpants darkened in color once he spilled inside of them. My cheeks heated at the replay reeling through my mind.
Andi: Well, spill it then.
Me: He gifted me a fuck ton of clothes. I mean an entirely new wardrobe.
Peyton: See! This has Pretty Woman written all over it. But that’s a problem, how?
Me: I couldn’t possibly fit it all in my van. I had to leave most of it behind. So, I took a few outfits, and he told me it would be there for me when I came back.
Peyton: Ahh, I see. Basically, it’s like committing to leave a toothbrush.
Me: Exactly. Except in this situation, it’s leaving an entire corner of the closet full of clothes perfectly picked out for me.
Andi: I don’t see the problem. Big dick energy. Check. Made you breakfast. Check. Bought you clothes without batting an eye. Check. What am I missing?
Peyton: What she said ^^
Andi: Give him a chance, sis. When was the last time you did something for YOU?
Why did they have to be right ninety-nine percent of the time? I hadn’t done a thing for myself in God knows how long.
Based on how last night went, turning him down just sounded like torture. If the night I lived just hours ago was what it would always be like to spend an evening with Spencer, I’d be an idiot to deny myself of that freeing and thrilling energy he pumped into my veins.
Me: You’re right. Per usual. Gonna nap before work tonight. Catch up soon. XOXO.
Spencer paid me enough to get me through the week and then some.
I could work tonight since I’d already committed and take the rest of the week one day at a time.
Maybe I’d put myself first for once and spend more time with him this weekend instead of making money just to send it to my scumbag ex-boyfriend.
Setting my alarm and tossing my phone to the side, I allowed myself to sink into a deep sleep. I’d get tonight over with, and before I knew it, I’d be back at Spencer’s for a home cooked meal and a new mindset.