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office?”
    “If that"s what she wants.” He paused. “The rules are set up front. What we
    can and can"t do, what she wants me to do, that sort of thing. Once I"m there, we act
    like I"m the one in charge.” He winked. “The customer"s always right, of course.”
    I shivered.

    Damaged Goods

    23

    His hand stopped and his thumb made slow arcs along my side. “What"s
    wrong?”
    “Nothing.” My cheeks burned. “Honestly, that"s been a little fantasy of mine for
    a long time.”
    “Is that right?”
    I nodded. “I get some attractive clients. Some very attractive clients. And
    sometimes…” Hotter still, my face burned, and I watched my fingers trace the
    tattoo on his arm. “I may have been known to fantasize about one or two of them
    taking the „customer is always right" thing to…an extreme.”
    “More common than you might think,” he said. “I"ve gone in for fake job
    interviews, client meetings, you name it.”
    I laughed. “You must be a pro at job interviews, then.”
    He snickered, sliding his hand from my side to my hip, where his thumb
    resumed those tantalizing arcs. “Yeah, except most real job interviews don"t end
    with my cock in the interviewer.”
    “What a pity for the interviewer,” I said, masking another shiver.
    “It"s an interesting part of the job.” He chuckled. “It was kind of funny when I
    had an HR director bent over her desk once. Don"t think she even noticed all the
    sexual harassment fliers, workplace code-of-conduct reminders, things like that,
    spread out all over the place.”
    I laughed again. “Oh, that must have been interesting.”
    “Yeah, it was.”
    “I could certainly see how a visit from you would break up the monotony of the
    workday.”
    “They seem happy.” His eyes narrowed a little and he grinned. “Is that
    something you"d want to try?”
    I pursed my lips. “Is this where you try to sell me additional services?”
    “Probably.” His cheeks colored. “Can"t say I"m very good at that part.”
    “Really?”
    He nodded. “I"m good at the services. The selling part? Not so much.”
    “Well, I"d offer to help with advertising,” I said, still watching my fingers follow
    the curves and lines of his tattoo, “but that might raise a few eyebrows.”
    “I suppose it would. So you work in advertising, then?”
    Shit . A personal detail. Oh well, it wasn"t the only advertising firm in the city,
    and it wasn"t like he knew my real name. “Yes, I do.”
    “Interesting job?”
    “Probably not nearly as much as yours.”
    “Don"t know about that,” he said. “Mine"s probably not as exciting and
    interesting as you might think.”

    24
    Lauren Gallagher

    “To be fair, you have sex for a living,” I said. “I endure staff meetings and
    PowerPoint presentations.”
    He grimaced. “Okay, you"re right; this is more exciting than that.”
    “Certainly more stimulating, anyway.”
    “Oh, yeah.” He trailed a single fingertip from my side to my breast and drew a
    slow circle around my nipple. “Speaking of which, I do believe you"re still paying for
    me to be here.” Leaning in to kiss my neck, he murmured, “I should really make
    sure you"re getting your money"s worth.”

    I got my money"s worth all right. Jesus, why couldn"t I get sex like this without
    having to pay for it? Watching him pull his slate gray silk shirt over the pink stripes
    I"d left on his shoulders, it was oh so tempting to consider scheduling with him
    again. Or sampling that list of “other services” that had so piqued my curiosity.
    Not tonight, though. Any more orgasms, and I"d have set off the hotel"s fire
    alarm.
    After he"d gone, I went in to take a shower. The water stung my back,
    reminding me of every place the wallpaper had chewed up my skin. I just closed my
    eyes and grinned to myself. For a night like this, some raw skin was a price I was
    willing to pay. An additional price, I supposed.
    So he had regular clients. Women who came back for more, enough