Can't Help the Way That I Feel by Lori Bryant-Woolridge

Author:Lori Bryant-Woolridge
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cleis Press
Published: 2010-08-16T04:00:00+00:00

10

Sooo totally better than Turks & Caicos! I replay the highlights of our fuck session in my mind as I finish washing Apollo off me. Jaguar prances into the bathroom and licks her lips. I know, right! Smothered in afterglow, I tie the silk robe around my waist and spy Apollo-the-Fucking-God leaning against the front door. Amen.

“I can see you now,” he repeats.

I clear my throat. “Yes. And…”

“I like what I see.”

I glance at the floor.

“Look at me.”

My eyes travel up his body, straight into his eyes. “Did you like being fucked like that?”

I feel a chill and nod.

He smiles that familiar killer smile.

“Is there more?” I ask, in a hushed voice.

“Maybe you are a big girl. You think you can handle more?”

I nod again, anxious to get on the waiting list.

“There may be something we can do about that.” He unloosens my robe in a swift move and studies the curves of my body. “And both get what we want.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick wad of money. As he counts off several big bills, he orders me to take a shower and rest up. “But first, this is for you.”

“What?” I shake my head in confusion. “What’s this?”

“Take it.”

“But…but…I can’t take—”

“Yeah, you can.” He wraps my fingers around the cash. “You earned it.”

I step back. “You’re paying me! For, for, SEX!”

“You were worth it.”

OM-fucking-G!

“But, I’m not…I’m not…” I whisper, “a hooker!”

“No, you’re not. You’re more like a girlfriend experience.”

I gasp and clutch my pearls.

“You need to recognize your worth, Ms. Stone, and put a price on that pussy; it should be your most valuable asset.”

Pussy PROPERTY? “Look, Apollo, I never expected to get paid for—”

“I know you didn’t. But now that you have, you need to rethink your pricing strategy. You’re in business for yourself now—if I remember correctly. And you said you wanted to make partner, partner.” He chuckles, and I begin to think this is all a joke until he reaches for the door and says, “It’s worth a lot more than that, by the way. I just took my cut.” He glances at the cash I’m now gripping tightly in my hand. “My clients will pay whatever you ask.” He nods toward the corridor. “And they’re in the building; you’ll never need an umbrella. Just keep the polka dots.”

“But, but, you’re the doorman?”

“Yeah, and?” he challenges. “What exactly do you think my job is all about?”

I furrow my brow, seeing him for the first time tonight.

“You were the one who said my job is to provide a service, right? Well, how is this any different?”

I slowly close my robe and double-knot it as I process what he’s saying. “So you would be, like, my pim—”

“Agent.” On cue, that slick smile resurfaces. “Think about it and get back to me. Just don’t take too long; people with long paper get impatient. They have options.” He reaches out and touches my chin. “But now I can say with certainty that none are as satisfying as you.

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