Like he took me on?
He's making it sound like it was my idea. It wasn't. He's the one who came on to me.
Of course, he did, Scarletta. He was setting you up for this.
Obviously, inner monologue. I'm not a complete fucking idiot. I do actually have real-world experience in the realms of performance sex.
I'm not sure what the look on my face is saying right now, but I'm fairly certain it's not what he expected. Because he launches into pitch number two. "I'll pay you." This comes out softer. Lower. "It's not a lot, but… like… ten grand?"
Ten grand.
He's right. To me, ten grand is half of the base pay for the sex auction. And while thatwasfilmed, it was filmed by Caleb. Maybe I don't know him that well, but he doesn't come off as the type of man who likes to sell his videos.
And Ryan…does.
He makes porn. I'm a hundred-percent certain of it.
"Twenty," Ryan says. "Twenty grand."
"Twenty grand to… act in your presentation?"
"You don't understand the kind of money at stake here, button. It's three million dollars."
"Three million." I look around. "To turn this into a TRX studio?"
"The insurance is insane," he counters.
OK. I can see that he's going to keep this performance going, no matter what. So I decide to cut to the chase. "What do you really want from me, Ryan? Because while I'm definitely interested in what's going on here…" I motion to the equipment, holding eye contact as I do it. "Especially the stirrups on that table."
His mouth falls open.
"I'm not interested in being circulated on some porn site for the general public."
He laughs. It's small, but genuine. "You little fucking fiend. You've done this before."
I shrug. Feeling pretty bold. "Not this specifically, but… yeah. I get paid sometimes. And let me tell you, ten grand is an insult. Also—" I put up a hand before he can counter again, "I don't need the money."
Again, he's stunned. "You… you don't need the money. What are you saying, Scarletta? You'll do this for free?"
"Depends on what 'this' is."
Ryan steps closer, taking my face in his hands, tilting my head up and forcing me to look him in the eye. "I like to dominate. Do you like to submit?"
I'm dying to submit. But I don't say that, obviously. We're negotiating limits. "Only to professionals."
He laughs again. Absolutely delighted. "Well, I've heard that before. How can I be sure that you understand what will happen?" He moves one hand down my jaw, and begins playing with my lip. "How do I know you won't chicken out?"
He pushes a finger inside my mouth. Placing it firmly on my tongue.
I let him.
Then I answer with his finger in my mouth. It comes out warbled and weird. "I'll show you." But that's the point. This is a humiliation play. Making me talk around his probing finger is meant to degrade me.
It's clever, I'll give him that.
And hot. I like it.
He pushes his finger deeper towards the back of my throat—not quite enough to gag me but enough to press against that sensitive spot that makes my eyes water—and something inside me just... snaps.
