Chapter 4

“Three grand, Kevin. I need three thousand dollars by next Tuesday, or the landlord is going to toss my stuff on the sidewalk like actual garbage,” Kris’s voice crackled through the speaker, sounding frayed, like a rope about to snap. She wasn’t asking; she was pleading, the kind of desperation that makes a person forget their own pride. “Please. I’ve tried everything. I can’t get a loan, and the girls ... I can’t let them see me lose the place.”

I leaned back in my chair, spinning a pen between my fingers, feeling that familiar hum of power vibrate in my chest. I could practically smell the panic coming through the phone line, and it smelled like opportunity. “Three thousand is a lot of scratch, Kris. That’s a lot of ‘half-brotherly’ generosity. What’s in it for me? Because my bank account isn’t just a charity for struggling mamas.”

“I’ll ... I’ll do whatever you want,” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. “Just ... tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

I let out a low, slow whistle, my mind already racing through the possibilities. “Whatever I want, huh? That’s a dangerous promise to make to a guy like me. I’m thinking something substantial. Not just a few quickies or a little mouth-work. I’m thinking a full-scale surrender. Maybe you come over and let me treat you like my personal, nude furniture for a weekend? Or maybe we explore some of those ‘wrong’ places you always moan about while you’re shaking under me.”

“You’re such a pig,” she hissed, though the bite in her voice was dampened by a shaky, needy exhale.

“A pig with three thousand dollars,” I countered, my voice dropping an octave, becoming a low growl. “Think about it, Kris. Imagine the look on your face when you realize you’re selling yourself to the one guy who knows exactly how to make you scream. I can almost see you now—stripped bare, shivering, waiting for me to tell you which hole to use first. Does that sound like a fair trade?”

There was a long silence, the kind where you can hear the other person’s heart hammering against their ribs. Suddenly, she let out a jagged sigh. “Fine. Just ... just tell me when to be there. But don’t think this means I actually like you.”

“You don’t have to like me, sis. You just have to be wet and available.”

I watched her through the screen of my phone as she paused, her face twisted in a mix of repulsion and calculation. She was a creature of habit, and her habit was needing me to bail her out of the disasters she built for herself. Three thousand dollars was a steep price, but for a man who enjoyed the scent of desperation and the taste of forbidden fruit, it was a bargain. I could see her chewing on her lip, that specific, nervous twitch that told me she was already imagining the feel of my skin against hers.

“I’ve got a specific scenario in mind for this installment,” I said, my voice sliding over the line like silk over a blade. “The girls just had that big eighteenth birthday blowout for Carrie, right? A real milestone. I want the celebration to continue the following night. I want you over here, stripped of every stitch of clothing, giving me the best blowjob of your life. And then, just to make sure we’re both feeling the weight of this transaction, you’re going to take it doggy-style—right in front of Carrie.”