She, the Kingdom (She #1)(13)

Even more embarrassing, Max didn’t seem surprised. He simply continued, “Upon my arrival, your children will have been asleep for at least forty-five minutes, should they be home, and you will be freshly showered, and dressed only in a bath robe. You may use scentless or almond-milk scented lotion. The bedding will be fresh each night.”

“I have a question.”

He pulled his glasses from his face. “Of course.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“Can your room accommodate a California King? This works best for me at home.”

“Uh… yes, but I don’t have a California King.”

“Not a problem,” he said, picking up his cell phone and tapping feverishly. “Your address is 1624 West Tenth Avenue, correct?”

“For what?”

“To deliver the bed.”

“Yes, I haven’t said yes.”

A corner of his mouth curled up. “Yet.”

“What if one of my kids wake up?”

“If there’s not a lock on the door, I’ll have one installed. You’ll put him or her back to bed, and the services will resume.”

“How are the services defined, exactly?” I asked, unable to keep myself from squirming in my seat.

“I was just getting to that,” he said, replacing his glasses. He found the spot where he’d left off. “The services are defined as cunnilingus performed by me, the purchaser, provided in short intervals from the time of ten PM to five-thirty AM, Sunday through Thursday, to you, the supplier.”

“That’s very… prescriptive.”

“Yes,” he said, overly satisfied that I’d made that connection. “This is a business transaction by nature. Which leads me to the next section. At no time will you climax. This is for the purposes of sleep, not for sex. Climaxing is overstimulating to me, and is not acceptable as outlined in the services.”

“What does that mean?”

For the first time, Max seemed uncomfortable. “If you climax, your taste changes. It becomes sexual, and I would experience difficulty remaining professional.”

“Professional,” I deadpanned. “Meaning you’ll get turned on and want sex?”

“Precisely. I’m a married man, so obviously that result is undesirable.”

“I see,” I said, not feeling as desired as I had since he’d first made the offer. Max was more than just good-looking, and up until that moment, I’d been secretly flattered that he was so eager to engage in something so sensual with me. That recognition and his clinical approach made it easier than I thought to make my decision. Thirteen-thousand in the next week or so, and no strings other than finding a way to sleep while he was between my legs.

“You may read in dim light, or rest, but no electrical devices, and no television. This is for the purpose of a full night’s rest for me.”

I cleared my throat and clasped my hands on the table, trying my best to sound as disconnected as possible. “When would you prefer to start?”

“Once you sign the contract… as soon as possible.” He leaned forward, eagerness evident in his eyes.

“Tonight?”

“If that’s acceptable to you. I don’t want to assume or pressure you, Ms. Clarke, but I haven’t slept in two days. It would be nice to get a full eight hours for a change. Since your children aren’t in the home for the summer, I’d like to amend that part of the contract to six AM, until they return.”

I stared at my hands. “Where will you sleep again?”

“With you.”

I glanced up for a moment.

“Toward the foot of the bed, of course. At least at first, until I’m comfortable.”

I stared at my hands again in disbelief. I couldn’t believe we were discussing this seriously, and that I was actually considering it. “But the bed…”

“I’ll have it delivered by this evening, as well as a check. Your formal title will be my personal assistant.”

“What if we’re caught? This is technically illegal.”

“We won’t be.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know, Morgan.”

I swallowed, wringing my hands.

Max reached across, covering my hands with his. “There is zero pressure. If you want to take some time to look over the contract, just say so. I’ll happily leave it here for your perusal.”

I hesitated. “You could get fifteen prostitutes with the kind of money you’re offering.”

“I’m not looking for a prostitute. They deal in sex and pleasure. I’m looking for a therapeutic service, and you’re the perfect person.”

Because he isn’t attracted to me? Because his wife isn’t threatened by me? “Because I told my best friend that I can’t orgasm during oral sex?”

He suddenly seemed concerned. “That is the case, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you never have?”

“True.”

“Then you’re perfect.”

Even though I knew what he meant, a warm feeling spread through my entire body. He took away his hand, and I gestured for the file. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Would you like me to leave you to it?”