“One, two thousand dollars for the next fifteen minutes, give or take, is fantastic compensation. That’s a little over one hundred-thirty-three dollars a minute. Even the highest paid escorts don’t make that much. And two...” Winter’s back presses against the wall. I stalk toward her, pressing my body against hers when I reach her. “I would very seriously consider liquidating my assets to pay for more time with you.”

Winter slides her hands over my sides, biting her bottom lip. The plump one, now even more swollen from our kiss.

Fuuck. I’ve never craved somebody so badly.

“How romantic,” she says before pulling me into her body and latching her mouth onto mine.

I waste no time sliding her dress up to her hips. Reaching around her, I squeeze her ass into my palms before lifting her up and wrapping her legs around my waist. I grind into her relentlessly, not being able to stop myself from fucking her before I’ve even pulled myself out of my pants.

This woman drives me mad. And this is it, this is the moment I’ll finally enter Winter Sommers. Baby Bulldog is at my mercy; panting, grabbing, virtually begging me to bury myself inside her.

“Do you have a condom?” she breathes.

See, she’s ready. So fucking ready. And now that I know her, I know it’s me she wants. I couldn’t be just any asshole about to rail her in this bathroom stall—she wouldn’t do this otherwise. She has a craving for what I have to offer. The thought of that fact makes my cock harder than it’s ever been, but with that knowledge comes… something else.

“A condom…” I say, tightening my grip on her ass cheeks. And when my brain tells my hand to reach around and pull my wallet from my pocket, I pause, feeling a swarm of something I’m not familiar with.

Why am I hesitating?

What the fuck is this? Some sort of guilty conscious moment, or something?

She’s ready for you, you stupid son-of-a-bitch! This is what you’ve wanted. Stuff her like a Thanksgiving turkey!

I thrust my dress-pant covered cock into her angrily, the swell of my erection all but threatening to rip through my pants if I don’t let it out and give it room to breathe.

“Fuck!” I yell into her mouth, ending our kiss. I shove my head into her neck, still pressing her into the wall. “I can’t…”

“Seriously?” She pulls her face back, peering at me, her eyebrows dipping, curiously. “You seem ready to me,” she says, grinding her greedy little pussy onto my cock, making me slam my fist against the wall behind her.

“Yeah, I mean, I can, but I shouldn’t.” I shake my head in total disbelief that I’m even about to say this. “I don’t want to fuck you for the first time in a bathroom.”

I look to our right at the porcelain throne. It’s staring back at me, lid open like its mouth is agape. It’s probably laughing hysterically. Or it can’t believe I’m being such a pussy.