is.”
Roman stepped forward. “Actually, Marc, I’d like to offer Jessica the money. We can use my dungeon. My dungeon, my money.”
Marc frowned. “My fiancée, my money.”
“Let’s discuss this in the other room,” Roman interrupted, and the two men left the kitchen, Marc’s shorts riding low on his hips.
“Um, were they actually arguing about who gets to fork over fifteen thousand dollars?” Jessica asked Lauren.
Lauren looked as surprised as she did. “I do believe they were. How do you feel about that? Marc didn’t even ask you if you were up for it.”
“You noticed that too, huh?” Jessica laughed. “I like working at WhipperSnapper. And how can I take so much money from someone I barely know? What if things don’t work out and you decide you don’t want me around anymore?”
“The money would be yours, of course,” Lauren said. “That’s how tributes work.”
“Tributes?”
Lauren nodded. “Before Marc and I got together, I paid my expenses with tributes—money or gifts that the slaves I played with gave me. They didn’t have to pay me anything, and plenty didn’t. Some are wealthy and chose to give me money so I had more time to spend with them.” Lauren paused, as if she could see the question forming in Jessica’s mind. “But I wasn’t prostituting myself. It wasn’t money in exchange for sex. I gave freely of my time, doing whatever I wanted, and then they chose to give me gifts. Like Marc just did. See?”
Jessica frowned. “I guess. But why did Roman offer to pay, then?”
“Roman likes pretty girls,” Lauren said succinctly. “He’s getting over some drama and his favorite way to do that is to be in control of everything around him, including who pays for what. If the group is involved in something new—you—I’m not surprised that he wants it to be in his own house, and by his own rules.”
“Should I accept?” She liked the idea of meeting at Roman’s house, even though both she and Lauren lived in the city. It would give her an excuse to see Roman often. And that idea definitely appealed.
“I’m a little biased,” Lauren laughed. “Of course, I want you to accept. That way we can play!”
Jessica grinned. “All right. Thank you.”
Elisabeth ran into the kitchen then, her towel tied sexily around her waist like a sarong. “Hey girls,” she said, opening the huge double-door stainless steel refrigerator. “I’m stealing orange juice to make cocktails. Don’t tell Roman.”
“Don’t tell Roman what?” Roman asked from the kitchen doorway.
Jessica had to laugh. At least it wasn’t her getting snuck up on this time.
“We desperately need your orange juice,” Elisabeth said, and grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge. “If that’s okay, I mean?”
“Well, if it’s that desperate, I can accommodate,” Roman said, nodding.
There was some weirdness between them. Elisabeth looked very comfortable in Roman’s house, but uncomfortable around Roman. Was it because he’d trained her?
“Jessica,” Roman said, and pulled out his checkbook. “Marc has kindly agreed to allow me to offer you the money, so you can come here and train with Lauren in my well-equipped dungeon. It really is better than the setup Marc has.”
Marc shrugged. “Only because I’m not as freaky as you, man.”
Roman seemed to take it as a compliment, though, and just nodded.
Lauren stood up and gave Jessica a hug. “What do you say? Ready to give up the nine-to-five for some hedonistic fun?”
Her body was as warm as her smile, even more so in the chilly kitchen. How could she say no to that?
“Okay,” she grinned. “Let’s do it.”
Roman already had the check written out to Jessica. “Here you go,” he said. “This should cover your expenses for the rest of the year. I’ll let the club know you won’t be coming back for a while.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking the check from him. “But won’t they be mad at me?”
“No. The club
Roman stepped forward. “Actually, Marc, I’d like to offer Jessica the money. We can use my dungeon. My dungeon, my money.”
Marc frowned. “My fiancée, my money.”
“Let’s discuss this in the other room,” Roman interrupted, and the two men left the kitchen, Marc’s shorts riding low on his hips.
“Um, were they actually arguing about who gets to fork over fifteen thousand dollars?” Jessica asked Lauren.
Lauren looked as surprised as she did. “I do believe they were. How do you feel about that? Marc didn’t even ask you if you were up for it.”
“You noticed that too, huh?” Jessica laughed. “I like working at WhipperSnapper. And how can I take so much money from someone I barely know? What if things don’t work out and you decide you don’t want me around anymore?”
“The money would be yours, of course,” Lauren said. “That’s how tributes work.”
“Tributes?”
Lauren nodded. “Before Marc and I got together, I paid my expenses with tributes—money or gifts that the slaves I played with gave me. They didn’t have to pay me anything, and plenty didn’t. Some are wealthy and chose to give me money so I had more time to spend with them.” Lauren paused, as if she could see the question forming in Jessica’s mind. “But I wasn’t prostituting myself. It wasn’t money in exchange for sex. I gave freely of my time, doing whatever I wanted, and then they chose to give me gifts. Like Marc just did. See?”
Jessica frowned. “I guess. But why did Roman offer to pay, then?”
“Roman likes pretty girls,” Lauren said succinctly. “He’s getting over some drama and his favorite way to do that is to be in control of everything around him, including who pays for what. If the group is involved in something new—you—I’m not surprised that he wants it to be in his own house, and by his own rules.”
“Should I accept?” She liked the idea of meeting at Roman’s house, even though both she and Lauren lived in the city. It would give her an excuse to see Roman often. And that idea definitely appealed.
“I’m a little biased,” Lauren laughed. “Of course, I want you to accept. That way we can play!”
Jessica grinned. “All right. Thank you.”
Elisabeth ran into the kitchen then, her towel tied sexily around her waist like a sarong. “Hey girls,” she said, opening the huge double-door stainless steel refrigerator. “I’m stealing orange juice to make cocktails. Don’t tell Roman.”
“Don’t tell Roman what?” Roman asked from the kitchen doorway.
Jessica had to laugh. At least it wasn’t her getting snuck up on this time.
“We desperately need your orange juice,” Elisabeth said, and grabbed a pitcher out of the fridge. “If that’s okay, I mean?”
“Well, if it’s that desperate, I can accommodate,” Roman said, nodding.
There was some weirdness between them. Elisabeth looked very comfortable in Roman’s house, but uncomfortable around Roman. Was it because he’d trained her?
“Jessica,” Roman said, and pulled out his checkbook. “Marc has kindly agreed to allow me to offer you the money, so you can come here and train with Lauren in my well-equipped dungeon. It really is better than the setup Marc has.”
Marc shrugged. “Only because I’m not as freaky as you, man.”
Roman seemed to take it as a compliment, though, and just nodded.
Lauren stood up and gave Jessica a hug. “What do you say? Ready to give up the nine-to-five for some hedonistic fun?”
Her body was as warm as her smile, even more so in the chilly kitchen. How could she say no to that?
“Okay,” she grinned. “Let’s do it.”
Roman already had the check written out to Jessica. “Here you go,” he said. “This should cover your expenses for the rest of the year. I’ll let the club know you won’t be coming back for a while.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, taking the check from him. “But won’t they be mad at me?”
“No. The club
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