Ben owes me four hundred and thirty-seven dollars.
He’s also currently missing in action on a Friday night while his extremely forward, extremely unfiltered hookup sits on our couch in a sundress with nothing underneath it, telling me things about her plans for the evening that I did not ask to hear.
Nikki came here for Ben. She had very specific intentions for him tonight — zero protection, zero hesitation, and a result she’s been planning for longer than anyone realizes.
But Ben’s not here. And Nikki’s not patient. And when she turns those dark eyes on me and makes an offer that has nothing to do with romance and everything to do with purpose, I don’t think about loyalty. I don’t think about consequences.
I think about the four hundred and thirty-seven dollars.
And I say yes.
Because this is smut.
