Since the first time I laid eyes on Arcadia, I had no doubt that she would become mine. She was just drop dead stunning.
I am well aware that it is only a question of waiting for her to become mine. Because of my chiseled face, 8-pack abs, biceps, and tats, I've never seen a woman whose pantyhose didn't melt simply by looking at me.
If she takes down her trousers, there is no way that Paul Caspar will let her live through this. Nothing in the world will rescue her.

She is free to say anything she wants in order to give the impression that she has a choice.

She is able to boast that she does not go for terrible males.

She may make me back away from the deal by claiming that she has a hefty price tag attached to her.


Because I've already developed a crush on that hourglass figure of hers. because of that stunning face and those velvety lips. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to ravish her. Even if it means I have to consent to paying the highest possible price...for my heart.

Fuck With Call Girl

Since I went, we've become closer. We often gather for coffee or yoga. She knows my concerns, therefore I enjoy her company.


Loefel encourages me after yoga, "Tell Paul what's up." After an appointment with Client 5, I came to yoga shaking and convulsing after a mind-numbing climax. "Keep it up! You're nuts."


"Yes," I say. "But it's been so long, I don't know how to escape."


Loefel adds, "The longer you keep mute, the deeper the hole," and I know she's correct.


The issue isn't Paul or Henry. It's here.


I texted Paul that I needed to see him hours ago. We agreed to meet at the Central Park Boathouse.


I arrived before him and ordered a dirty martini in the Main Lounge while staring at the Lake in Central Park from the Boathouse's terrace.


Now I'm watching Paul approach. He entered from 81st Street. I hear a piano in the Lounge and wonder whether this is our final visit at the Boathouse.


Paul kisses me, but I flinch away. He steps back and concerns me.


Chapter ３８