“Oh, I wouldn’t even know where to start, and besides, it’s hard to be successful at it, and I justwouldn’t—”
“Great things are always difficult. The challenge is what makes somethingworthwhile.”
“Did you always want to own…what business is it that youown?”
Smirking, he flips the end of my hair. “Does it drive you crazy notknowing?”
“A little. I mean, I’ll just Google your name later. I can only handle so much mystery in oneperson.”
“I don’t tell people what Ido.”
“Please.” I snort. “You’ll tell them you fulfill fantasies as a pastime, but not how you make money?” I cock a brow. “Wait. Isthathow you makemoney?”
A cocky grin slowly inches over his face. “Depends. Where do you think my talent lies? In fucking or doingbusiness?”
“If that’s your job, I’d sayboth.”
He laughs. “Don’t worry. It’s not. As you stated the other night, once a hobby turns into a job, the passion is lost, and sex without passion isworthless.”
There’s a moment of silence long enough to let my mind wander. I know well enough from studying human behavior that many of our desires and fears come from past experiences. Sometimes we’re trying to overcompensate, undercompensate. Make up for things we never had. I’m so curious why he’s chosen the hobby he has, because I just feel it’s something more than a simple desire to fuck women. “Why do you fulfill people’s fantasies,Elijah?”
“Why do you think, MissPsychologist?”
“I’m a marriage counselor, I didn’t concentrate on sexual dev—” I bite my lip before the word slipsthrough.
His lips twitch in a smug smirk. “So you think I’m a deviant,Demi?”
My heart hammers in my chest, and I glance at the kids skateboarding by. “No.” Ifrown.
His nostrils flare slightly. “I like sex, and I like watching people toe the line between what they feel is right and wrong. But what I really love”—he leans in—”is being everything they thought they’d neverhave.”
I lift a brow. “How very narcissistic ofyou.”
“It’s not narcissistic. Thatisthe definition of afantasy.”
“What,you?”
He laughs. “Being something a person never thought they wouldhave.”
“Touché.”
He tilts his head as though he’s going to kiss me. “Do I intrigue you, Demi?” His lips are barely a breathaway.
“Yes,” Iwhisper.
“Good, because I’m very captivated by you.” His hand glides along the side of my neck before sweeping through my hair. “You’re sotimid.”
I knot my fingers on the sleeve of his suitjacket.
“Afraid to take what you want.” He presses his lips to mine, kissing me sweetly. “When you’re with me, I want you to take what you want, when you want it.” He pushes to his feet, offering me his hand. “And just in case you were wondering, this doesn’t count as date numbertwo.”
