I pay strangers to sleep with me. I have my reasons….
But
they're not the ones you'd expect.
For starters, I'm a
funeral director taking over my dad's business. Not exactly
the kind of person you'd expect to fork over cash for the
lust and urgency only live skin-to-skin contact can create.
Looking at me, you wouldn't have a clue I carry this little
secret so close it creases up like the folds of a fan.
Tight. Personal. Ready to unravel in the heat of the
moment.
Unsurprisingly, my line of work brings me
face-to-face with loss. So I decided long ago that paying
for sex would be one of the best (and arousing) ways to save
myself from the one thing that would eventually cut far too
deep.
But Sam was a mistake. Literally. I signed on to
"pick up" a stranger at a bar, but took Sam home instead.
And now that I've felt his heat, his sweat and everything
else, can I really go back to impersonal?
Let's just hope
he never finds out about my other life.…