Chapter １２

I am experiencing shivers of happiness right now. My whole body becomes numb. I let loose a roar. And at that point, a vulgar mutter leaves my mouth as I forget all about what is considered proper behavior. A wave of euphoria passes through my system, and for a little period of time, I am left trembling.

When I open my eyes, I feel as if my head is about to explode. I'm panting. Sweating. Hot.

Max exclaims into the phone, “That was so fucking hot!”

“I'm sorry, but I can't comment right now. I didn't do anything except lie there, my pants wet and my body content.”

“I will get back to you every single day!” Max says. Even though he continues talking, I'm having a hard time concentrating on what he's saying. The best I can do is inform him that I'll be waiting, and then he hangs up the phone on me.

I glance at the screen on the computer.

It's possible that I could grow accustomed to this.

After then, an email alert appears on my phone.

“Congratulations on receiving a consistent 5-star rating from all of your customers throughout the last 24 hours!” it says in the email. The next part of the message compliments me on my rating as well as my returning customers.

After reading it, I understood that I had just given Paul half of the money that I was going to receive. Perhaps it is distributed to other individuals, but it is based on a corporation that he founded and still owns.

The very concept makes me shiver. Why would a guy who has access to such an abundance of sex be interested in someone like me? And for how much longer will it even continue? Given his appearance and the way he carries himself, I would be astonished if we ever had another conversation. I haven't received any communication from him despite the fact that it's been more than twenty-four hours already.

Don't get me wrong. I don't have any kind of prudish tendencies. As you can probably guess, I come from a rather seedy background, and I'm very, extremely sexual.

However, the Paul is in an entirely different league from the others. And at this point in time, this work and the money that it brings in have to take precedence. The only way I'll be able to do it is if I maintain a safe distance from Paul Caspar.

I secretly harbor the hope that with time, my memories of his lovely physique will start to fade away.

But the portion of my brain that processes reasoning tells me that I'm already in over my head with this situation. According to what it says, there is nothing I can do at this time.

Paul's pov

“I was starting to worry that you weren't going to return my calls,” the caller said.

I respond by saying, “It's been a hectic few weeks,” . But if I'm being really honest, the only thing that's been on my mind is the fact that Arcadia and I haven't had sexual contact in more over a week.

“Certainly it has, but hear me out: never consider my generosity to be a sign of weakness. .”

I am aware that he is making an indirect threat via his tone of voice, so I smash the pen down on the desk and pass the paper that has been signed over to him. I have to get out of here before he manages to truly get under my skin and make me do something that I know I shouldn't.

“Now, none of it has any relevance whatsoever. This is the necessary papers. Mr. Morozov now has control over the process of transferring ownership of these clubs.”

I offer him a wave with the hand that is not stuffed into one of the pockets of my suit while the other hand is balled up into a fist and placed in the pocket.

I quickly paint a phony grin on my face and exit the room before he can provide a response. I exit the building and call for a taxi. Because of how intense the sunlight is, I had to pause for a second and look for my sunglasses. The taxi drives up, and as I get into the rear seat of the vehicle after opening the door, my thoughts turn to the recent business deal that had place.

Here I am, I'm doing business with the city gang. I have no idea what the heck I'm doing with the rest of my life. And as soon as I pose that question to myself, the place that immediately comes to mind is Arcadia.

Oh my god, she's stunning... maybe even picture-perfect!

In the course of my life, I've been across a lot of stunning ladies, but she beats them all hands down. Fucking her was unbelievable…

It hurts that it's been more than a week since we last spoke to one other. I go for my phone and make the decision to send her a text message. I stand still for a second, gazing at the chat screen and deliberating about the most appropriate thing to say next.

Fuck it; there's no doubt in my mind that I'm overthinking this. Why am I behaving in such a ridiculous manner? I text, “Let's meet up.”

She says “I don't think that's a smart idea” before I have even had a chance to tuck the phone back into its holder in my pocket.

What the living hell is the intended meaning of that? I respond to the SMS with “Why not?”

I give her a few minutes to answer, but she remains silent the whole time. I give it a few more minutes of my time, but there is still no response. This is driving me completely insane. If she does not choose to respond to my messages, I will contact her in another manner, namely via her private sex line on her phone. I am not the kind to give up, and I always succeed in getting what I want.