I grunted, attempting to dismiss her gratitude, but even I knew it was useless. Sunny's skin was soft and cool in my hands, warming under my touch. My lungs were full of her scent, fresh and bright and sharp, and she was still rich on my tongue. My gaze tracked every rise and fall of her chest, the flutter of her lashes as she blinked. My ears muted the rest of the world to study her breaths, her heartbeat.

"You're so good at this," she whispered.

My hands were working their way up to her calves, an ankle in each grip. "We take anatomy classes when we join MSA. And physical therapy. Nutrition." Sexual therapy classes too. And MSA specific courses on safety and etiquette with our partners. I wasn't supposed to break the illusion by discussing any of it with Sunny, but I'd already accepted that I'd broken the usual boundaries with this woman. I'd never craved a client before. I'd never been so protective of one, either.

"I think I meant the, like…the balance. I'm not sure I'd know when or how to stop with you. I wanted to quit on the second day, and you helped me push through. After yesterday, I feel like we could've just gone on fucking forever—" I laughed, and Sunny blushed and shook her head. "What? It's—You know what I mean. And instead, you know it's time to rest."

"Will you be disappointed if we don't try every depraved idea in that deceptively sweet-looking brain of yours?" I asked her.

She snorted and sat up, pulling her legs free of my hands and wrapping the robe a little tighter around her body, cutting me off from my favorite view. But the disappointment of her modesty was quickly soothed by her helping herself to my lap, her legs straddling my hips and arms circling my neck.

"There is absolutely nothing about this experience I could be disappointed in," Sunny said softly, meeting my eyes shyly, her cheeks flushing as I helped myself to grasping her luscious ass through the velvet and drawing her closer. "Khell, thank you…thank you so much for—"

Her brow furrowed, lips parted and voice lost.

For doing my job, I thought, the notion strangely distasteful. Sunny looked more distressed the longer she was at a loss for words, and my own thoughts turned uncomfortable. What were we to one another? Nothing but sex worker and client.

I leaned forward and Sunny's face relaxed in relief, her eyes falling shut at the same moment my mouth found hers, tongue stroking in immediately, already starving for her taste again. Sunny sighed as I groaned, my arms tightening around her, her legs squeezing my hips.

I was her hired partner. Her pleasure was my responsibility, my role. We were boxed in by that reality, but it didn't prevent me from wondering. What could we be?