So he could make people fuck for money.
So what?
That was a story as old as time. What good was power if you were still alone at the end of the night? He looked over at Brigid and Sean, who were still sucking face. Were they just putting on a show or did they actually love each other?
What did real connection feel like? Intimacy?
Maybe a rich man could never know. People were always in it for the money when it came to him.
Liam walked toward the door. He needed to get out of here. “Thanks for the hot fuck,” he called out to Sean and Brigid.
His hand was on the doorknob when Brigid called out, “Wait!”
Liam turned around to look at her. Maybe she wanted a ride. After all, her boyfriend was a bit of a skunked-up bastard. If Liam was her, he wouldn’t put up with that shite for another second. She was a gorgeous, intelligent woman. Maybe if she was throwing Sean over, Liam would try his hand for her attentions—
“The money,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “You said you’d wire the money as soon as we were done.”
“Of course.” Liam affected a don’t-give-a-shit smile, trying to ignore the way his stomach dropped.
He was a bank. Nothing more. “A deal’s a deal. You two whored yourself admirably.”
Brigid flinched and Sean said, “You don’t have to be a—”
“Routing number?” Liam cut him off, pulling out his phone and clicking on a money transfer app.
Sullenly, Sean went over to his jeans, his cock still half-hard, and retrieved his wallet. He called out a string of numbers. Liam thumbed them in his phone and then tapped in the cash amount with all the zeroes after the four. He hit ‘send’ and then strode for the door, not looking back.
“Don’t call me again, Sean,” he said over his shoulder. “This is our last interaction. I’m blacklisting your number.”
He let the door swing shut behind him.