I flipped the wallet open and slipped out the stack of cash. My throat bobbed, but I still couldn’t swallow my nerves. A Bottega Veneta leather creation, black and unwrinkled. I reached for the back pocket of his Tom Ford dress pants, where he’d tucked his wallet shortly after sliding out a chain of condoms, and examined it in my shaking hands. And the teardrop chandelier looked eerily similar to little sperm.Īnd to make it through next week, Judith Penelope Humphry, you will stop thinking about jizz and move on with your plan. Floor-to-ceiling windows dared me to drink in the view of well-heeled Manhattan with my poor eyes. Plush, red-tufted velvet couches taunted me. Judging by this place, though, he won’t have trouble paying for the cab to the airport.Ī curved, wrought-iron staircase that cost more than my entire apartment stared back at me, leading to a Jacuzzi the size of my room. The stranger in the suite had given me exactly that, and now he was about to give me something we had never agreed on. I’d needed to drown in alcohol and hot skin. I’d needed to forget-forget about Milton, the stacks of bills, and my unfortunate lack of employment the past few months. Home Insurance Coverage: A Detailed Guide
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