His eyebrows nearly fly off his head. “You’re joking. The most I’ve ever made is seven fifty.”
I smirk. “You should raise your price then.”
Indeed he should. Jack is gorgeous, with his wavy sandy-blond hair that covers his ears. He’s got a slim build, but his pecs and biceps are magnificent, barely constrained by the tight black T-shirt he’s wearing tonight. He’s cleanshaven with a good jaw and enchanting hazel eyes. If he weren’t exclusively into guys, I’d have asked him out myself by now.
He scratches his chin. “It sounds like you’re thinking about it.”
I scoff. “Of course I’m thinking about it. That kind of money is serious stuff.” I glance around my modest two-bedroom apartment. “If I were taking a few clients every weekend at that rate, I could get a luxury apartment in a high-rise in the Loop. Be right in the middle of everything.”
“Plus you could invite your best friend to hang out there,” Jack says with a grin.
I swallow. “But… I mean, you get this. Once you sell your body, you can’t…unsell it.”
He exhales sharply. “Seller’s remorse is definitely a thing you’ll deal with.”
I cross my arms. “Be honest. How bad is it?”
He shrugs gently. “I mean… It’s not always pleasant. But you learn to… What’s the word? When you remove yourself mentally from what you’re doing physically?”
“Dissociate?”
“That’s the one. I go into auto-pilot, letting out a moan every now and then to make the client feel like he’s doing a good job. But every so often a patron I’m attracted to purchases me. That’s always nice.”
“But nine times out of ten it’s going to be someone you’d rather not sleep with.”
“Of course.”
“Then how do you dissociate?”
He sighs. “I think about lying on a warm, sunny beach. Letting the waves tickle my toes. I listen for the sounds of seagulls and the distant blowing of ship horns. And here’s a little industry secret.” He lowers his voice, even though it’s just the two of us in the room. “They pay for an hour, but most of the sessions are done within fifteen minutes or so.”
I widen my eyes. “You’re joking.”
“Of course not. Most of these men are on the older side, and they’ve only got one shoot in them. Once they get there, they’re usually done. The clarity kicks in and they realize what they’ve done. They silently gather their things and head out, leaving the cash on the nightstand. And then I have the rest of the hour to myself before Rouge expects me back on the floor.”
“They don’t ever want to…cuddle or anything?”
“Every now and then. But it’s pretty uncommon. Most men want to get their rocks off and then get back to their drinks.”
I take a deep breath in. It doesn’t sound all that bad.
Like Jack said, not pleasant. But manageable.
If I got through that unending tryst with Mr. Shippe at my Reflections callback, I can get through anything. And the reward for these sessions will be guaranteed. Shippe put me through the wringer and then proceeded to not even cast me in his show.
In a way, I’ve already sold my body. I just got screwed over in the process.
The toothpaste is already out of the tube.
What’s a few more times? Just enough to cover rent for a nice apartment in the good part of town?
It’s just sex, right?
People enjoy sex.
Can it really be all that bad?
I’m not looking forward to this.
