Chapter7
She had landed her first photoshoot. Ben hadn’t lied when he said he would do something about it. And do something about it he did. Sierra didn’t even have an agency yet.
“Trust me, you’ll have an agency after this,” he had told her. “Better yet, agencies will come running after you to have you in their roster.”
And there she was, getting all glammed up in front of a mirror with lights. This was no self-makeup session. The woman putting on her makeup was a professional through and through. She felt nervous, yet in awe of the studio.
The photographer had told her it was tiny compared to the others, but it would do. She was only shooting for sunglasses after all. Only shooting for sunglasses? This was her first photoshoot! She could proudly show this off to her parents, knowing she was on her way to a master’s without debt or a loan.
“You’re a natural at this,” the photographer told her in a low voice, the moment the shooting had wrapped up.
She tried to stop herself from blushing. “Well, I hope you won’t have to Photoshop the crap out of me too much.”
He laughed. “I don’t think it’ll be that much work.”
She said her thanks to everyone, something she was used to doing after working with people. In turn, the crew of ten appreciated her gratitude, talking in hushed tones about how different she was from the others they had worked with and how they hoped she wouldn’t change much.
“You’ll get a magazine cover soon enough,” the makeup artist told her as she said her goodbyes.
Sierra stepped out of the building and began walking down the street. The shoot had ended at three in the afternoon, so she decided to take a breather and walk around the city before heading home. She wondered what Ben was doing right now. She was wearing one of the dresses he had gotten her, a pale ombre orange A-line dress with a cardigan over it, and the new flats she had gotten last Sunday.
She resisted the urge to call him and tell him how the shoot had gone. Isn’t that what people in who were in relationships usually did? But they weren’t really in a relationship. Only by force of contract. She felt disappointment swell in her, how she was frivolous enough to think he would be interested to hear about her day. But maybe… just maybe he would be.
She took a breath and reached for her phone and she texted him a one-liner.
Hey.
The response came three minutes later. She counted.
Shoot done?
Yes.
How was it?
I wanted to call you like a proper girlfriend.
No need. I’m busy. We can meet later at your apartment at around six. Where are you off to now?
Walking around, I guess.
Go shopping. I gave you a credit card.
No thanks. I’ll just go to Barnes and Noble.
Typical. Go.
And that was that. There was no sense of enthusiasm there, and she felt underwhelmed. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered. She felt like a fool. She felt like she should have waited for him to text first.
No, I have to pretend. The more I delve into this, the better I can be at breaking up with him, she told herself. How she had come to accepting the idea mystified her. She was like any other person, doing it for the money. She needed her master’s. She needed to not be a failure. But why hadn’t he shown the least bit of enthusiasm? Was he still reeling from his last relationship? Perhaps it had hurt him more than he thought.
Whatever, he’s paying for everything.
Sierra enjoyed her “me time” at the bookstore. She had always loved books and wanted to start a hardbound collection. Why buy when you can borrow a tattered-looking one from the local library, right? Her fingers skimmed through the multitude of book titles, enjoying the classics section. Would Ben be the type to read books that didn’t entail cars? He didn’t seem like the type. But he said it was typical of her to go to a bookstore. Was there “nerd” written all over her face? Did he do some crazy background check on her that included her likes?
People and their money could do so many things, even the vile ones. Like hiring someone to be a girlfriend. It bothered her all the way back to the apartment. She was surprised to see him sitting calmly in the living room, watching the six o’clock news.
“What are you—” she stopped.
“You’re late,” he said irritably. “Don’t you have any sense of time?”
“It’s only six-fifteen,” she said in a small voice, suddenly feeling guilty.
“Still late. Lose yourself in books?” he sneered, standing up.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” she replied, feeling her face warm up. She was starting to get annoyed. He found ways to humiliate her, even if it wasn’t such a big deal or even if it wasn’t really her fault. She was about to snap at him when he cut her off.
“You look especially nice today,” he said, eyeing her.
She suddenly felt embarrassed and got tongue-tied the moment he uttered those words. She bit her lip to control whatever she was feeling, a mixture of anger and giddiness. How could he say that when she wanted to tell him off? He was being an asshole, an appreciative asshole.
“Th-thanks,” she found herself saying. The doorbell rang, dissipating any more tension she felt. She spun around.
“That must be the pizza,” he said with a grin. He thanked the delivery boy and gave him a twenty-dollar tip.
She was still standing in the same spot. “Are we on a date?”
“I think this is what people call a date night at home,” he told her, sitting down on the couch and opening up the box of pizza.
“I didn’t get groceries.”
“I asked one of Jemima’s new recruits to do it. You’ve got groceries now,” he said, biting into a hot slice of pepperoni pizza. “Aren’t you gonna eat? Or are you on some special diet now that you’re modeling again?”
She shook her head and joined him on the couch, careful to place a good distance between them. He was passively watching the news now, his feet up on the wooden table across from the couch. He still wore his work clothes.
“So, how was it?” he asked.
“How was what?”
“The photoshoot.”
“I thought you didn’t want to know,” Sierra said, sounding surprised.
“Why wouldn’t I? Isn’t that part of the whole relationship thing?” he said, finishing the slice. “Damn, I love pizza.”
She took a slice, realizing she was hungry from all the walking. “It was okay. First shoot,” she breathed.
“Yeah, nervous? Anxious and excited?”
“At the same time,” she admitted.
“You seem off today,” he suddenly said. “Something bothering you?”
“I’m just, I just—” she stopped, unable to form a sentence.
“Look, just say it while I’ve only spent a few thousand on you,” he told her, taking his third slice of pizza.
“Earlier today, I thought about our arrangement. I feel like I’ve become some high-class call girl without the sex.” She said the last word with disgust.
He stopped eating the pizza, putting it down. “What’s wrong with sex? And I won’t ask you for it if you don’t want it.”
“So you’ll be asking for it?” she asked in a tiny voice.
“It hasn’t come to mind until now,” he replied. “Look, I respect our arrangement. If it happens, it happens. And while you’re not bad looking, you aren’t my type.”
What he said stung her. So, she wasn’t pretty enough or what? Sierra realized he was an asshole but decided to keep this to herself for now.
“Besides, it wasn’t stipulated in the contract for you to act like a whore or anything,” he said calmly.
“You’re right.”
“Damn right I am.”
She closed her eyes and counted from one to ten to control the emotions that were rising again.
Ben was enjoying the body language she was exhibiting. He enjoyed making her feel uncomfortable, vulnerable. She was so easy to read. “You’re too nice,” he said suddenly.
“I’m only nice when I want to be,” she snapped.
“I doubt that.”
“Why are you so difficult?”
“Me? Difficult? Babe, I got us pizza for dinner, and now I’m being difficult?” he said, pretending to be hurt.
“You’re doing this on purpose.”
“What on purpose?”
“This!” she said, exasperated. She stood up and walked to the bedroom, closing the door–not slamming it, but closing it carefully.
Yes, she was too nice. She couldn’t even slam the door. Don and Tasha Whittaker had raised their daughter well. No gangsta vibes anywhere, he joked to himself. He ignored her, allowing her to seethe while he watched a movie. An hour and a half ticked by, and she hadn’t come out. He decided to check on the tantrum child. He cracked open the door quietly and found her asleep on the bed, wearing a paired top and gym shorts, with her hair still partially wet from a shower.
He stared at her, enjoying how unguarded she looked, how she looked so peaceful in her sleep. Her long legs were half curled up while she embraced a pillow. A portion of her hair was splayed above her head. It looked comical yet cute at the same time. So that was why she hadn’t come out from her seething. She had fallen asleep.
Ben looked at her legs once more, realizing they were flawless. Ben suddenly felt that familiar urge stir in him. He hadn’t had a good romp in a while. A month and a half to be exact, since he had lost the drive for it after Denise had mentioned marriage.
He hadn’t expected to be attracted to her, but maybe he really needed some lovin’ right now. He was stressed. Even if he wanted it, needed it—he was true to his word. He would never touch her without her consent. He wondered what she would be like. She came across as a virgin to him, untouched and inexperienced in all those twenty-two years of her upbeat existence. Was she still a virgin? He wouldn’t want to include that in his contract—it just wasn’t him, no matter how much he enjoyed sex.
Boy, would he give anything to have some right now… he shook his head. There was work tomorrow, and it was nine in the evening already. Was he giving reasons? He could have seduced her earlier. She would have fallen straight for his charms.
Damn it, he told himself. Was he losing his drive? This was a primal instinct, a basic human need. He was controlling himself from lusting over her. Perhaps he respected her more than he’d intended. Maybe it was her naiveté, maybe it was because she was too nice to be taken advantage of. He had taken advantage of women numerous times, and it wasn’t without their knowledge. They just played dumb or were actually dumb. That was the difference. Perhaps it was the contract that changed something in him. It was a silly notion, the whole contract thing, but he wanted it to be clear, business-like.
Whatever reason it was, it sorely disappointed him. He hadn’t felt this underwhelmed in the longest time. Shaking his head, he walked back to the living room, shoved the remaining pizza in the fridge, drank a glass of water, and left a note on the table.
***
Sierra woke up with a start. What time was it? Was she late for… she shook her head. She wasn’t late for anything. She had no particular job. She was living the life for now. Sierra couldn’t help but get herself out of bed, though. She was used to working early, and this was something new–just lounging around, acting pretty.
She decided to hit the gym, realizing that she hadn’t exercised since she’d gotten to New York. She had always had a svelte figure, but it didn’t mean she could just let working out pass by. She got up from her bed and headed for the kitchen, reminding herself that she still had to get groceries—the fridge was fully stocked, from milk down to tomatoes.
Jemima’s new recruit. She remembered Ben saying something about it.
Ben! Where was he? Did he fall asleep on the couch? She walked into the living room; no one was there. He had even cleaned up after himself. Then she saw the yellow post-it note on the table.
Left while you were sleeping. Double-locked the door with my key.
He hadn’t even bothered to text her that, probably mindful that she could have been a light sleeper, which she wasn’t. She wondered what time he’d left, and if he was angry she hadn’t gone back out to face him. She hadn’t wanted to face him and she’d decided to take a shower to cool her head off, lazily blow-drying it until she felt sleepy.
That certainly wasn’t a fun date night at home, she thought with a frown.
She had imagined conversations, getting to know each other better, laughter! Yes, laughter. If it was going to be a fake relationship, why not make it a bearable one? And he had gone through the effort of ordering pizza to make it seem like a genuinely casual date night.
“That asshole,” she said to herself. Where was her self-control? She had to remind herself time and time again that she was just here for show, that there were to be no emotions involved. Why was she getting so riled up about this? It was as if she wanted more effort from him to make it seem worthwhile.
Worthwhile, ha! How could it be worthwhile when everything was arranged? Even her living quarters were arranged. Her shopping was paid for. She owed him in the event everything went wrong, which she certainly didn’t want.
Her phone rang, and the name registered to be Tasha’s. She hadn’t heard from her mother in a week. She preferred to text, and she didn’t want to lie to her mother if Tasha asked how her life was so far. White lies were fine, but this was beyond a white lie.
What would she say? Everything was coming up daisies in New York? She had begun her modeling career and there was no need to worry? Also, she would ease in the idea that she had gotten a boyfriend after being single for more than four years?
“Mom,” she said cheerfully, shifting her footing as she decided between toasting bread and just eating an apple. The apple won. She hadn’t been such a healthy eater the past few days.
“Baby!” her mother said excitedly. “How have you been?”
“I’m fine,” she replied instantly.
“Got a gig yet at Ramp?”
Sierra took a breath. “Well, another agency absorbed me. The owner passed away a week before I got here.”
“Oh goodness,” Tasha gasped. “What kind of agency is that?”
“It’s small but pretty good.”
“I don’t like the sound of that…” Tasha admitted. “You could be exploited for all we know.”
“Do I sound exploited?” Sierra said. “Besides, I’d call you the instant I got into trouble.” Exploited? Wasn’t she the one exploiting him, if she wanted everything? She had a lot of comforts she’d never dreamed of having until maybe two years from now. He was only exploiting her presence. She was the fake girlfriend with a definite goal, which was to break up with him.
“I just had a photoshoot yesterday,” Sierra added.
“Really?” her mother squealed. “What was it for?”
“Sunglasses,” Sierra admitted. “It’s lame, I know.”
“Any particular brand?” Tasha pressed on.
“Huntley.”
“Huntley? Isn’t that one of those three-hundred-dollar sunglasses?”
“Yes it is,” Sierra admitted. She even owned three pairs now, aside from an initial fee of $600.00 for that three-hour photoshoot.
“Oh, Era,” her mother said. “I am so proud of you. Your father needs to know about this. It’s really coming up daisies, isn’t it?”
“Getting there, Mom.” Sierra wanted to end the call before the lies could start. It wasn’t that she was a bad daughter, but it was a matter of pride, too. Her mother would be livid to learn that she had accepted a contract to be someone’s girlfriend, and a highly paid one at that.
Sierra couldn’t imagine sleeping with someone she didn’t at least like. She found Ben attractive, but it didn’t mean she liked him already. He was an asshole. Women were just attracted to his money and his good looks. And she had no plans of ending up like the other women he had dated.
She said her goodbyes to her mother, telling Tasha to hug her father for her, and hug her sisters as well. She missed them terribly, she realized. She had been too caught up with the whole contract and its workings, at which point she had forgotten to call her family, to ask them how they were. She wanted them to give her reassurance that she was doing a good job and that they were fine back home.
Sierra changed into gym clothes, knowing full well that she had a long, work-free day ahead of her. The gym was on the seventh floor, and no one was using it. It was a hundred and fifty square meters, with its usual treadmills, bicycle trainers, pull-up bars, and even a balcony with large potted plants where residents could do yoga if they wanted to. A wonderful view of the city could be seen within the confines of the glass-encased area.
She ran for five miles that morning, the only exercise she had done since she arrived in New York. After running, she caught her breath by walking out onto the balcony, enjoying the morning sun with a mix of the cool, autumn air.
Her sweat quickly dried as she enjoyed the view. There was the slow crawl of traffic in the city on a Wednesday morning. She could see smoke rising from the chimneys of restaurants, and she smiled. She’d never had a metropolitan view such as this while living in Rushport. It was a different kind of view, and this change was good.
On her return to the apartment, she ate some muesli and a banana with a glass of milk, a welcome taste compared to the greasy pizza they’d had last night. She turned on the TV to add some noise to her quiet apartment, and she proceeded to shower as the TV droned on.
While she was showering, Ben had been knocking for a full minute already. Was she still asleep, he wondered? Shaking his head, he took out his key and opened the door, letting himself in. It was his apartment anyway.
The TV was on. She was wasting electricity. He tsked but didn’t bother to turn it off, wanting to tell her about it. Maybe she had forgotten, or maybe she just loved to waste power. He saw remnants of her breakfast, an empty bowl and a banana peel she hadn’t even bothered to throw away. She was a scatterbrain, all right.
Annoyed, he walked into her room to give her a good telling off, and just as he swung the bedroom door open, there she was–her body wrapped in a white cotton towel, water dripping from her hair.
Her eyes widened and his eyes widened.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she shouted.
“Jesus,” he finally uttered, quickly turning around as if she’d caught him peeping while she showered. “I was checking to see if you were okay.”
“What do you mean checking to see if I was okay?” her voice turned high-pitched, a clear sign she was stressed. “Of course I’m okay!”
“You didn’t answer my calls,” he stressed with his back still turned.
“Get out!” she cried.
Ben quickly bolted out of the room, closing the bedroom door shut as he leaned against it, the sight of Sierra half-naked shaking him to the core. She still looked sizzling, even without the makeup or the clothes—especially without the clothes. He took a breath, controlling his emotions as he walked to the kitchen to drink a glass of water.
It’s not like I’ve never seen a woman come out of the shower before, he told himself. It’s not like I haven’t seen long legs and flawless skin and that whole wet look before. He felt angry and embarrassed at the same time. She had shouted at him to leave. It wasn’t like he had any intent of disrespecting her. Besides, it was his apartment.
The bedroom door opened, and she looked livid. “Are you frickin’ crazy?”
He saw her walk out wearing oversized sweats. “What the hell do you mean by crazy? I was checking up on you—”
“You barged into my apartment,” she cut him off.
“This is my apartment,” he bellowed.
Sierra’s face reddened. “Well, it’s my apartment now. And per contract, you’re to respect my personal space.”
Ben was about to say something but he stopped himself.
“You could have knocked,” she told him.
“I did but the TV was on,” Ben said, realizing this was the perfect moment to turn the tables on her. “You’re such a scatterbrain. You leave a mess, you waste energy. Hell, I bet you didn’t turn off the shower properly.”
Sierra took a deep breath, trying to remember if she had. It got to her, and she spun around and marched back to the bathroom.
Ben was trying hard not to laugh. Boy, was she easy to manipulate. She came out a few seconds later.
“I turned it off properly. And you’re veering form the topic. This is about you barging in without even knocking. What if I had been naked?”
All the better. Ben didn’t say that aloud, though. “You weren’t. End of story. “
“Why are you here anyway?” she snapped at him.
“I wanted to ask you out for brunch, seeing our date night was a complete disaster yesterday,” he said through gritted teeth. It felt like he was arguing with a child at times, a smart but immature child.
Her features immediately softened. He didn’t like the fact that she could be easily swayed. What if they were no longer in this relationship? Anyone who was callous enough could push her around, and she would just play nice about it. Ben wanted her to toughen up. Her father was a sheriff. Why wasn’t she tough about life?
“I don’t want to go out with you, not when we started off on the wrong foot.”
“Damn it, get dressed. I can’t do a date tomorrow; I have to leave for Chicago.”
She eyed him warily. “Why are you going?”
“Work,” he said with a shrug. Then his eyes narrowed. “Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“I told you, I don’t want to go out, not when we’re like this.”
“What part of pretend don’t you understand?” Ben said. “The contract stipulated that we’re to have a date at least three times a week.”
“You didn’t mention if I wanted to go out or not. So that decision is completely up to me.”
“Don’t forget you already owe me a considerable sum. So you’d better make it worth our while,” he told her in a low tone.
“What, you wanna toss me out of here wearing sweats?”
Ben walked dangerously close to her. “I want you to get dressed and wear something nice to look presentable beside me. Or you could wear nothing at all.”
She wanted to take a step back, but he was staring into her eyes so intently, she couldn’t move. She took a deep breath; his nose was only millimeters away from her nose. Without warning, he pulled her close to him and kissed her hard.
He felt her lips, soft and in denial. He could taste the mint toothpaste, and he could smell the lavender body wash she had used. Her palm was on his chest, intent on pushing him away. But she didn’t. Instead her palm curled up against his ribcage and she was kissing him back. He tried to hide his smile, and she felt his lip curl up.
“I know you’re smiling,” she murmured.
He didn’t answer. Instead he took her lips into his again, their tongues eagerly mating. He grasped her suddenly and it hurt, but it didn’t matter after a second. He could smell her lust and she could feel his lust as their bodies were wrapped in an embrace.
Ben’s hands were slowly running up to her back, all the way to her nape, holding her there. His fingers delicately touched her exposed collarbone above her loose, zippered sweater. He told himself to fight for self-control. It was now or never. It could have been never, but he was starved of sex and he wanted her now.
She didn’t stop him, which was a good sign. Sierra moaned when his tongue strayed down her neck. Ben feathered kisses unto her collarbone and she held her breath, the sensations filling her with pleasure. He pushed her down onto the couch, enjoying the way she bit her lip as his hand unzipped her sweater. He was thrilled to know she didn’t wear any underwear. He saw her breasts heave as he licked a free nipple.
Sierra squirmed as she tried to remove her sweater while Ben quickly removed his button-down shirt. They threw it carelessly on the floor, and he proceeded to remove her sweatpants for her. He saw that she was free of hair, and he took a deep breath. Oh boy, was he going to enjoy this…
Her heart was pounding. This was really happening, wasn’t it? This was of her own accord; it wasn’t part of the contract, but she wanted it, had wanted it for years. He bent his head and left a trail of pecks across the tops of her breasts, his hands traveling up to cup them gently. His teeth grazed on her nipple, and she moaned louder this time. There was still time to say no to all of this desire.
“Do you want me to stop?” he whispered before licking her earlobe. He didn’t want to stop; he couldn’t wait to plunge into her velvety softness.
Her breathing came in pants. She didn’t say anything.
Silence means yes, Ben thought as his tongue trailed down, his lips moving slowly down to her stomach. She gave a loud gasp and he smiled to himself. She was never going to say no. He kissed her above her pubic bone, and she shuddered with anticipation. He felt her tense up, half-anxious and half-desperate to have some good sex.
The little minx wanted this. She was more naked than he was, but he doubted she was hornier than he was. He was the horniest he had been in years. Her stomach was taut as his hands roamed for her breasts, wanting to feel them under his caress while he teased her, inches away from her clit. His hand ran up and down one thigh, furthering her thirst.
He smiled and worked his way back up. He was a tease, she realized, but that didn’t deter her. Her bare skin was touching Ben’s, who still had pants on, and he felt himself grow harder. Was that even possible?
It was her turn, she thought. She was no expert, but she knew how to make him moan. She started with feathery kisses, touching on his neck and chest, and he fought the urge to moan. He didn’t want to look vulnerable, so he stopped her and pinned her down, one hand holding both of her arms above her. He gripped hard on her thigh and she took a deep breath.
She allowed this delight to steal through her. She hadn’t thought it would be this wonderful to be with him, with total disregard for the contract. This went beyond what they’d agreed on. In the late morning light, his blue eyes were burning bright. His hand moved down, all the way down to that sweet spot in between her thighs, and she took a breath as his fingers played with her folds, stroking her clit gently. Sierra trembled, her breasts moving up and down.
He slipped a finger into her and found her wet. He wanted her wetter, so he slipped in two fingers. She moaned louder and he wanted to hear that moan again; he wanted to hear her say his name. Ben told himself he wouldn’t ravage her just yet; he would be gentle so there would be a repeat of it. There had to be a repeat of it.
He wanted to possess every inch of her, he wanted to own her and was glad he partially did because of the contract. He hadn’t seen anyone as beautiful as she was, completely naked and makeup free. While one hand played with her, he slowly unbuttoned his slacks and with slight difficulty kicked them off. Sierra saw the bulge in between his boxers, and she swallowed some saliva. He was turned on just playing with her.
Sierra felt the tip of his manhood brush against her leg. She hadn’t known that she could become this horny as her femininity throbbed, impatient for his entry. His tongue licked the underside of her breast and then he sucked on it hard. She gasped again. Without warning, his tongue went all the way down to her clit, and he teased her by sucking and licking on it. He sucked on every fold, enjoying the salty and sweet tang of her. He licked every crevice of her engorged pussy. She moaned louder this time; craving was stealing through her in constant waves.
Ben loved that she was getting wetter than ever, feeling the heat emanate from her tender flesh. He teased her with his hardened penis, rubbing the tip against her clit. She writhed underneath him, her impatience growing. She was ready for him. He saw that she was ready the moment his eyes locked onto hers. He supported himself with one hand and thrust himself into her.
He drove deep into that tight and wet pussy of hers, banging into her mercilessly. Their bodies were slamming against each other, sweat glistening on their bodies. Ben thought he would go crazy with lust. He pushed her legs further apart, violently pushing into her, yet she didn’t complain. She wanted this as much as he did. Her nails dug into his back. He enjoyed the pain that came with the thrusting and with her fingernails raking on his back as she panted faster and louder.
Ben didn’t look at her, but he was relentless, pounding into her again and again, determined to give her as much pleasure as he was feeling. He saw her bite her lip to keep herself from screaming. The friction between them was getting too much to bear. She could feel herself riding on a rollercoaster; she was at her pinnacle and so was he. He thrust one last time into her and pulled out in time as she trembled violently from her first orgasm.
Ben rolled off of her, lying down beside her, with what little space the couch had. She didn’t want to move yet, but she did to make room for him. He didn’t talk to her for a while, closing his eyes. She felt the growing discomfort of being completely naked beside him. She slowly sat up.
“What are you doing?” he asked her without opening his eyes.
“Getting my clothes and taking a shower,” she said, “I feel sweaty.”
“Suit yourself,” he said.
She inched her way from the couch, and Ben shifted to get better support. He saw her pick up her clothes, and he smiled to himself as she walked to her bedroom, her bare ass showing off its gorgeous, well-proportioned curves.
Well, how was that for appetizers?