Like (Social Media 2)

“Put your hands on your thighs, please.”

She obeys and I sigh a little with her compliance. She catches that, I’m sure, because she looks up at me and smiles. This night is going so much better than I ever anticipated. I wasn’t sure if she’d be mad about me showing up by surprise or not. It’s so hard to predict what might set her off. She is clearly a smart woman capable of many things. She probably thinks she doesn’t need a man. But she’s wrong. She does. She craves it, I can tell.

I straighten out the tableware as best I can, moving all the covered plates so they are within arm’s reach, and then settle back in my seat with Grace between my legs. I lift the lid off a small dish. The scent of meat fills the air with a puff of steam. “It’s still hot, good,” I say more to myself than her. I pick up a small bite-sized piece of tender beef and bring it to her lips. “I’m going to feed you, Grace. Open your mouth and take the meat.”

She complies and my heart swells a little. I wasn’t sure how she’d take this, to be honest. She might’ve got up and walked out, spouting off about how she’s perfectly capable of feeding herself. But perhaps she’s catching on? Or perhaps I just wore her down and she’s too satiated and relaxed to care that I’m hand-feeding her.

“Why am I feeding you, Grace? Why not just let you sit at the table with me?”

She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and smiles as she chews, taking her time before swallowing. “Asher, I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m hungry and tired. You could do almost anything to me right now.” I wince and she catches it. “Wrong answer?”

I nod, but stay silent.

“OK,” she says, pausing to think this time. “Let me try again.” She looks down at the sheepskin rug, her fingers caressing it for a moment, and then tilts her chin up so she can look me in the eye. “You… want to be responsible for me?”

I positively grin. “Dear Lord, you are perfect.” I lean down and kiss her gently on the lips and then grab another piece of meat and place it in her open mouth.

She chews slowly again, and then swallows with a heartfelt, “Mmmmm.”

“That’s why I gave you money, Grace. Not to buy you, but to care for you. If you want to give it all away, that’s your choice, But there will be more money in your account the second it goes below thirty thousand. That’s the threshold. Thirty thousand dollars is enough to leave me and move on, so that’s the dollar amount I need to stay in your account.”

“What?” she sputters, shocked by my words.

“Leave me, Grace. I’m not bribing you to stay. I want to make it very clear you are not being paid to stay. You are being paid to leave. I want you to be OK when you’re ready to walk away. When we get tired of each other. I want that money to be there for you so you never have to wonder if you can afford to break off our arrangement.”

Her shoulders slump over and she bows her head in defeat. I hate to spell it out so callously, but it needs to be said. She needs to accept it or she needs to take the money and move on. “Do you agree?”

“Can I think about it?” she asks quietly, her head still bowed. “And let you know?”

“Of course,” I say back and lift her chin up with my fingertips. “Are you very hungry?” I ask her as I grab another morsel from the plate.

“Yes,” she says, a little bit defeated. “I really am. I feel starved.”

“You have to go slow, so you can enjoy it. Otherwise you might eat too fast. And that will never do. You can’t enjoy our time together if you’re busy scarfing down food. Just be patient and know that you will be satisfied when we’re done. Even if it takes longer to get there this way, understand?”

“OK,” she says.

I don’t like her defeated attitude at all. I prefer feisty Grace over this demure imitation. But I need that contract signed tonight, and this was the only way to get that. “Now tell me about your day, sweetness. Tell me about your new job.”

“It’s just a job. I don’t want to talk about it with you. If you’re not really interested in me as a person, and this is just about conquering me during sex, then I’m not interested in sharing my day with you.”

“That’s not all I’m interested in, Grace. I’m just trying to be honest with you, that’s all. I don’t want to hurt you. I want us to enjoy each other. I think we can have a nice relationship.”

“Relationship?” she huffs. “This isn’t my idea of a relationship. A relationship doesn’t come with walking-away money.”

“So give it all away.”

“You’ll just put more in my account.”

“So give that away too. Give it all away. When it ends, you can give that last thirty thousand away as well. Problem solved. You can spend every minute with me practicing your role as a philanthropist.”

“This isn’t—” She looks up at me and swallows. “You’re not anything like the man I fantasized about.”

“Hmmm, I think being unrealistic is a trademark of all fantasies, don’t you?” She doesn’t answer, just stares up at me. “But since we’re talking about it, you’re exactly the kind of woman I fantasized about.”

“Is that my consolation prize?”

“Grace,” I say, placing the meat from the plate up against her lips. She opens and takes the morsel, chewing slowly. “You’re sending me mixed signals again. Did you think this was a serious relationship? Did I lead you on?”