by Amy Brent
They started working through some exercises to loosen up Thomas's back. His muscles were especially stiff today, and Jillian kept having to help him work through the exercises. When she touched her hands against his bare back and arms, all she could think about was the firm muscles beneath her fingers. She tried again and again to think of a way to bring up his proposition, but she couldn't think of a way to do it without sounding like a fool.
Towards the end of the session, they were pressed close together as she helped him stretch his right arm through an exercise. He winced as the motion pulled some painful muscles, but she pressed him on, forcing him to slowly work through the pain. When she glanced at his face, he was looking right at her. His gaze dug into her, making her mouth go dry.
“So, Jillian,” he said, leaning a bit closer under the pretense of stretching out his side muscles more. “Have you given any thought to my 'business proposal'?”
“If that's what you want to call it,” she said, pulling her gaze away from his.
“That's exactly what it is,” he said. “An exchange of money for a simple service.”
“Simple?” She smirked and shook her head. “Honey, if you think it's 'simple,' then you're underestimating me.”
“Oh really?” A grin slowly spread on his lips. “So what you're saying is, you're a real pro.”
“Let's just say I know a thing or two about how a man's body works.” She demonstrated by pressing her hand against a sensitive spot in his side, eliciting a small yelp and sending goosebumps across his skin.
He grabbed her hand by reflex, then held it gently in his. Their eyes met. Jillian swallowed a lump in her throat.
“I can't help but notice,” he said, “that you haven't actually said no this time.”
“I guess I haven't,” she said.
He stepped closer. She turned away, her face heating up. He kept hold of her hand and pulled it against his chest. She could feel his heart beating beneath her palm.
“So what do you say?” Thomas whispered.
“This is the kind of thing that could get me in a lot of trouble. I could lose my job.”
“I promise to be discreet,” Thomas said. “Not a soul will know.”
She swallowed, then glanced up at him. He held her gaze and reached out to caress her cheek.
Jillian closed her eyes for a moment, steeling her resolve. The truth was, she was attracted to Thomas. He was a handsome, well-built man, and the way he looked at her sent chills up her spine. Under different circumstances, she might have been willing to date him. Instead, she was considering crossing a line she'd never in her life thought she would cross.
“About that...price you offered,” she whispered.
He slid his hand through her hair, letting the delicate strands run across his fingers. “I'll double it.”
Jillian's eyes widened. It had already been an offer of more money than she could have hoped to earn for a single, simple, carnal act. Doubling it made it an offer she just couldn't refuse.
“All right,” she whispered.
Thomas grinned. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Give me a call this weekend,” he said. “I have an apartment in the city we can use. It's discreet. Most of my business associates don't even know about it.”
She took the card and studied it. Taking it felt like signing a contract. She nodded, without looking up at him. “All right.”
He touched his fingers under her chin to tilt her face up towards him. “Trust me,” he said. “I'm going to make sure this is the time of your life.”
He leaned in close and pressed his lips against hers. She stiffened, and almost pulled away, but his kiss tasted so sweet she couldn't resist. She let her tongue brush lightly against his lips, a soft whimper escaping her.
There was a knock at the door and they immediately pulled apart. Kate stuck her head in the door and said, “Jillian? Your next appointment is here.”
Jillian cleared her throat and ran her hands down over her white coat, smoothing it out. “Yes. Okay. Thank you. I'll be right there.”
Kate looked between Jillian and Thomas, a curious expression on her face. Thomas simply smiled at her, showing no shame. Jillian did everything she could to avoid eye contact with either one of them. If Kate suspected anything, she didn't say so. She left them there and closed the door behind her without saying another word.
Jillian stepped away from Thomas. “So,” she said, clearing her throat. “This weekend, then.”
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the back of her fingers. “I can't wait.”
He left, and Jillian watched him go, trying to fight the butterflies that had suddenly taken up residence in her gut.
Saturday afternoon, Jillian sat in her kitchen, holding her phone in one hand and Thomas's card in the other. She had typed the number into the phone, but she froze every time she was about to tap “Send.” She had never been good with difficult phone calls, and this was the most unusual one she had ever made in her life. It would be one thing if she was calling Thomas to ask him on a date. She would have been scared out of her mind to do that, but at least it would have been something she'd done before. This was more like calling to schedule an appointment. It felt too impersonal. It was missing the romance.
She set down the phone and ran her fingers through her hair. She didn't really want romance. Romance was messy. Complicated. You had to worry about commitment and attachments and how a relationship could work its way into your entire life. What she was going to do with Thomas would be...simpler. It was just an intimate encounter. A liaison.
She picked up the phone and held her finger over the screen, taking a deep breath. She closed her eyes, hit the button, then held the phone to her ear with a trembling hand.
“Jillian,” Thomas said as soon as he answered the phone.
She froze. How had he known it would be her? He was a busy businessman. Surely he got a lot of other calls throughout the day. Though she realized this must have been a private line. One he reserved only for the more intimate aspects of his life.
“Thomas,” she said, her voice shaking. “I...”
“Nervous?” He chuckled. “Don't be. We're going to have a wonderful evening together.”
Jillian took a few slow breaths, trying to settle her nerves. “I'm looking forward to it.”
She wasn't sure if that was true or not. Part of her was excited. Part of her was terrified.
“As am I. I'll have a car sent for you. We can take things slow. Dinner. A bottle of wine. Soft music. I promise you this will be a night to remember.”
Jillian swallowed a lump in her throat. She wasn't sure whether she wanted the romantic evening. On the one hand, it sounded rather nice. It had been a long time since she'd gone out and had a nice dinner with a handsome man. But on the other hand, this wasn't a date. She almost would have preferred to skip the romance and cut straight to the evening's business.
“All right,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I can't wait.”
She gave Thomas her address, then went into her bedroom to search for something to wear. She was still trying on outfits an hour later when her doorbell rang. She settled on a low-cut black dress and high heels. The doorbell rang again as she was adjusting the skirt over the curves of her hips, trying to see if the dress gave the right impression. She wanted to be attractive, but not seductive. She needed to keep herself detached. Not let herself get swept up too much in the moment.
She went to the door and found a man there wearing a black suit and a chauffeur's cap. He tipped his hat to her and said, “Ma'am. Your car awaits.”
He led her out to a shiny black sedan. He held open the door for her and she climbed in. The seat was made of the most comfortable leather she'd ever touched. She couldn't help running her hands across it to feel the smooth texture beneath her fingertips.
There was a bottle of wine waiting for her. She poured herself a glass, drank it down fast to soothe her
nerves, then poured another. She sipped the second glass slowly while the driver drove her over the bridge into Philadelphia, then to a high rise building that looked rather well-to-do. They drove into the parking garage beneath the building, then the driver let her out in front of the elevator. She was grateful for the privacy that offered; if she'd had to walk in through the main lobby, considering what she was here for, she would have been devastated.
She rode the elevator up to the penthouse, the butterflies in her stomach riding with her the whole way. The doors opened into a small foyer, where Thomas waited for her holding a single red rose. He was dressed in black pants and a white shirt with a few buttons undone at the top. It somehow made him simultaneously look both casual and romantic.
She took the rose, forcing a smile. It felt like such a mixed message to her. You gave a rose to a girl on a date, but this definitely wasn't a date. At least, not as far as she was concerned.
“Jillian,” he said. “You look lovely.” He touched a hand to the small of her back and led her inside. The apartment was spacious and decorated with accents of silver and black, with expensive but subdued artwork on the walls and black marble floor tiles. The dining room table was set with a pair of candles and a single, slender vase. She stuck the stem of the rose into the vase, then sat when Thomas held her chair out for her.
“I hope you brought your appetite,” Thomas said. “I consider myself something of a decent chef.”
“You...you cooked?” She looked up at him, incredulous. She'd expected that someone so wealthy would have a professional cook working for him.
“There's something much more satisfying about a meal I've prepared myself,” he said. He brought a silver tray in from the kitchen and opened the lid. Delightful scents filled the air. He set a plate before her, with a delectable chicken and vegetable medley topped with some kind of sweet sauce that set off a delightful explosion in her mouth. They ate and shared a bottle of wine, and by the time Jillian finished what was her third glass, counting the two she'd had in the car, she was starting to feel pleasantly relaxed.
“How is everything?” Thomas asked.
“Oh, it's just wonderful.” She looked around the apartment, wondering what it was like to live in a place like this. Everything was spotless, and the furniture looked like it had never been sat on. She wondered if he kept things so neat all on his own, or if he had a cleaning staff to thank for it.
“I'm glad,” he said. “I want everything to be perfect tonight. You deserve to have a wonderful time.”
He raised his glass to her, and she raised hers as well, though she couldn't help but wonder if this was all just pointless window dressing. They both already knew what tonight was all about. The deal was sealed. Was he just trying to pretend? To put on a show and make this seem like a romantic evening, when it was really just about sex?
She decided to play along. It made things easier, and truth be told, she really was having a nice time. If this had been a normal date, she would be quite happy right now.
After they finished eating, Thomas put on some music. He offered her his hand, and when she took it, he led her to a clear space in the middle of the living room. He placed his hands on her waist, she wrapped hers around his shoulders, and they started to slowly dance.
Swaying together in time with the music made Jillian feel even more relaxed. She laid her head against Thomas's shoulder and let out a content sigh. His fingers strayed along her waistline, sending little shivers through her. He held her close enough that she could feel his warmth. She whimpered softly against his neck. She let herself completely forget about the real reason she was here, the fact that this was a business arrangement. She set all of that aside and simply let herself be swept up in the moment.
His cheek brushed against hers, followed by his lips. He kissed her cheek softly, then kissed the corner of her mouth. Then his lips were pressed against hers. His hands slid lower, gripping her ass through her skirt. She gasped, but let it happen. Not because she had to, but because it felt so nice to be touched.
They stopped dancing and stood there, kissing, while Thomas's hands continued to roam. He hitched up her skirt and reached underneath so he could touch her skin. She clung to him, whimpering and breathless. His fingers followed the curves of her cheeks, then slid between her legs, bringing forth a soft moan.
“Thomas...” she whispered.
“Shh.” He touched a finger to her lips. “You don't need to say anything.”
She nodded, then let him lead her into the bedroom. He laid her down on the silken sheets and started planting kisses down her body while he slowly drew her dress down and tossed it aside. She closed her eyes and dug her fingers into the sheets, moaning, while his lips and his tongue touched her most tender places. Then before she knew it, he was sliding her panties down.
She sat up, bracing herself on her elbows, and looked down at him. Her lips trembled. Her chest felt tight. She wanted this, wanted to abandon herself in the moment, but she knew that this was a line that once crossed, she could never come back. She looked up at Thomas, unable to think or speak. He stood up and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his muscular chest. Then he dropped his pants to the floor, and she saw that he was more than ready to take her. To get what he had paid for.
She expected it to be fast, for him to have his way with her and get it over with. But he took his time, rubbing himself against her until she ached to have him inside of her. He caressed her breasts and planted kisses along her shoulders, her neck, her ears. By the time he entered her, she wanted him so badly that she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Even then, he drove her mad with his slow, deliberate pace, filling every inch of her until she felt like she was going to explode.
Soon his movements became more energetic, more filled with need, and she could tell that he was nearing the edge. She wrapped her legs around him tight, pulling him closer, moving her body in time with his thrusts. He grunted and held her tight, his entire body stiffening as climax poured over him.
He collapsed against her, and for one disappointing moment, she thought that it was over. But he looked into her eyes, and seeing that she still wasn't satisfied, he started up again, focusing his every movement on her pleasure. He gave it to her hard and fast, the way she liked it, the way she needed it. She moaned and cried out, telling him when he hit the right spot, when to keep going, when she was nearing the edge. He kept driving it into her until her orgasm exploded within her, filling her with pleasure from her loins to the tips of her fingers and toes.
He climbed off of her, then turned towards her and held her close. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to calm herself after the workout. The longer she laid there, the more she knew she had to get up and leave, but she didn't have the energy. The bed was so soft and comfortable, and Thomas was so warm, his arms so strong. She nestled closer to him, telling herself she would only stay a few more minutes. Before she realized it, she'd fallen asleep.
In the morning she awoke to an empty bed. She could hear the shower running through the open door to the bathroom. She looked around at the tousled sheets and the clothes strewn all over the floor, remembering what they'd done last night. Shame that had been held at bay by the wine started crashing down on her. Her chest felt tight and tears welled in her eyes.
She hurried to get dressed, hoping to be out the door before Thomas finished in the shower. She was still searching for one of her shoes when the water turned off. A minute later, he walked out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his waist.
“Good morning,” he said, stretching and yawning.
“Morning,” she muttered. She found her shoe under the bed and pulled it on, then started heading for the door without looking at Thomas.
“You in a hurry to get to church or something?” he asked. “I thought you'd stay for breakfast.”
“I need to go. I...” She shook her head, still refusing to look at him. “Look, last night was nice, but let's not p
retend it was something other than what it was. It's done, so now it's time to go.”
She headed out the bedroom door, but he called out to her again. “Wait.”
She paused, chewing on her lip.
He pulled an envelope out of the nightstand and handed it to her. She glanced inside. It was filled with cash. Her payment.
“I want to see you again,” he said.
She trembled, unsure what to say. Last night had been amazing, but it had come with a price. Not the price he'd paid her, but the price she'd paid in her soul. She wasn't sure if she could face that again.
“Find another therapist,” she whispered, unable to find her voice. “I don't think it's appropriate for you to come to my office again.”
Before he could reply, she headed out the door. She took the elevator downstairs, then headed out into the busy city street. She knew she could have gotten Thomas's driver to give her a ride home, but she wanted the whole situation over with and behind her. She walked a few blocks, then took a cab to the train station. She rode the train over the bridge and back into New Jersey, clutching her purse with her ill-gotten money against her chest, and fighting back tears the entire time.
Jillian didn't hear from Thomas for several days. She took the money he'd paid her and deposited it into her checking account, then paid off one of her credit cards with it in a single payment. She heaved a sigh of relief as soon as she submitted the payment, feeling like this was the first step towards her financial recovery. Her budget was loosened up now that she had one less monthly payment to worry about, though she still had so much debt from her mortgage, her other credit cards, and her student loans, that she'd really only taken a chip off the total.
Her relief was short lived, however. Just two weeks after her liaison with Thomas, her car broke down. When she took it in to get repaired, the bill came to almost $2000. Which was money she just didn't have. She ended up having to use the recently-freed credit card for it, and as she swiped the card through the machine at the mechanic's, she almost started to weep.
She trudged through the days after that, still trying to balance all of her payments while somehow being able to put food on the table. She kept thinking about Thomas, wondering if he would be willing to pay her for her “services” once again. Had she been good enough to make him want more? He hadn't called her since the day she walked out on him, and she didn't know if it was because she'd told him to stay away and he was respecting that, or if she'd been so bad in bed that he'd simply forgotten about her. No doubt, she thought, he could have dozens of other women lining up at the door to his penthouse apartment.