“He works at the rescue where I got Harper.”
“Oh.” A smug smile crossed her face. “No wonder you were willing to get such an ugly dog.” She raised her hands before I could protest. “Not that Harper isn’t sweet. I love her already, and I’m sure after a few more visits, and I won’t grimace every time she looks at me, but still. That explains a lot.”
The waiter arrived, refilled our waters, and glanced at Kayla’s empty flute glass. “Another mimosa, madam?”
She flashed her overly practiced elegant smile. “Why not?”
The waiter had barely turned away before Kayla pounced. “So is he hot?”
I borrowed one of Harper’s snorts. “Oh yeah.”
“Then it’s settled. You’ll invite Noah. He’ll charm the family, as long as he doesn’t bring any more ugly dogs, and then you’ll get married and live happily ever after.”
“Oh, is that how it works in our world?”
Kayla lifted her chin slightly and somehow managed to not sound sad. “Well, one of us has to be Cinderella. Might as well be you.”
“We both know I’m the stepsister in this tale.” I swiped my hand through the air between us. “And I’m not asking Noah to the party.”
The next twenty minutes were spent with Kayla trying every tactic she had to change my mind. She failed.
After arranging for me to bring Bailey back home after dinner, the niece-and-uncle’s-dog day officially began.
“I SWEARshe’s thinking about eating my face.”
I peered over Stewart’s muscled back and saw Harper at the head of the massage table, staring up at Stewart as he lay suspended above her. She’d figured out pretty quickly that traveling alongside my feet while I gave a massage wasn’t the best idea. “I can put her in the other room. She’d be okay.”
Stewart’s voice was slightly muffled as it issued through the fabric of the headrest. “Nah. It’s okay. The longer I stare at her, the cuter she gets.”
“Well, let me know if you change your mind. I’m about ready to turn you over anyway, so you won’t see her staring at you much longer.” I ran a lotioned forearm over his candlelit thigh.
“We both know I won’t be distracted by anything other than you once you turn me over.” As I let my elbow sink into his glute, he grazed his fingers over my dick. Without missing a beat, he grasped on, lightly stroking over the fabric of my shorts.
I was already half-hard and lengthened at the friction he created. I kept working. “This is your second time this week. You hadn’t seen me in months. Why the sudden renewal? You don’t seem any more tense than usual.”
He gave my cock another squeeze, then let go. “I’ve been busy. Then after last time, I remembered what I’d been missing.” He hesitated for a moment before he spoke again. “I wish you’d let me pay you extra for—”
I cut him off. “Nope. Not going there. You pay for the massage. Not for the extra.” With a rustle of fabric, I lifted the top sheet away from his body. “Now turn over and scoot down on the table, please.”
Stewart did as I asked, letting his frequent request of paying more fade away as he did so.
As soon as he rolled over, no longer having his face to stare at, Harper padded to the corner and settled down with a contented sigh.
I kneaded from his feet to his calves and up to his thigh, all the time watching his large penis harden under the sheet and the damp circle of precum soaking through the fabric. Before long, I worked the muscles of his chest and arms. As I massaged, he roamed his free hand over my naked torso, then slipped into the waistband of my shorts to fondle my cock.
So did that make me a whore, slut, scarlet woman? Okay, maybe not the last one—but it was a kinda fun label.
As far as labels go, I’d own slut. Why not? I loved sex. And I had no problem sleeping with any man I wanted anytime I wanted.
Judge away.
My clients got a full massage. And I charged the same for the clients who only got a massage and those I decided to be sexual with. That didn’t make me a whore.
And if it did? Well, then I was a discriminating whore. I only messed around with men who I wanted too. No amount of money would make me let a guy fuck me if I didn’t want him to.
By the time the massage was over and Stewart had me on my back on top of the massage table, both of my legs held wide under his strong hands and his massive condom-sheathed cock pounding my ass, I would have happily paid him for the pleasure.
Chapter Four
