“Scout’s honor.” I held up my hand.

She rolled her eyes. “Leave Alex the fucking Boy Scout at home.”

Alex the Boy Scout was all that was keeping me in line.

As we both pulled our pants back on, I asked, “Is it hard doing this with strangers all the time?

She was quiet for a minute. I liked that she thought about her answers without immediately feeling like she had to fill the silence.

“Sometimes. It can feel hard to understand what a client really wants when they aren’t always comfortable telling you. It can be tough to make it feel intimate when you don’t know each other, but that gets easier. Honestly, the hardest part most of the time is keeping a straight face. No matter how much I check my judgment at the door, there’s no getting around the fact that so many of these scenarios are objectively ridiculous. Try not laughing when you have to be someone’s small penis therapist or pretend to run them over with a car repeatedly for an hour. I’m a pro, but I’m only human.”

“Has anyone ever crossed a line with you?” I didn’t look at her as I asked the question because it was possibly intrusive, but after seeing what a teaching session and not even a full-blown session looked like, it worried me she was that vulnerable with random dudes all the time.

“I deal mostly with wealthy, powerful men, Mr. Chase. Many of them think they’re entitled to more than we negotiate and spend the session pushing those boundaries. But I can usually keep them in line. I’ve only had one who took things far enough it was upsetting.”

“Did that make you want to stop?”

“It made me more wary with my other clients, but no, it didn’t make me want to quit. Women are more vulnerable on your average date than I am at work. I’ve got a panic button with a burly security guard at the other end. Not to mention the threat of being banned from the dungeon. I feel less safe out with a guy than I do with my clients.”

“That’s depressing.”

“What’s depressing is that’s only true for legal sex work. Strippers and people who do porn are mostly safe. Working in a dungeon or a brothel is pretty regulated. But the sex workers who’re arguably the most vulnerable are the least protected because of the stupid laws in this country.”

I’d never considered any of this before. Like an elitist asshole, I’d generally dismissed sex workers as beneath my concern, but she made a valid point.

“Do you feel safe with me?” I looked into her slate blue eyes, hoping to see the truth in her answer.

“I do…Boy Scout. Do you feel safe with me?”

She had an eyebrow cocked and was peering at me from under her lashes.

“Of course, my lady.”

She let out a throaty laugh. “Don’t be so sure. I’m about to rock your world.”