Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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"Whoa... easy there, tiger... take it slow..."
Vincent Roland leaned back, eyes shut, his chest rising and falling as he kept a firm hand on my head.
"Jesus, Jessica. You've been killing it lately."
A rough pat signaled I was done.
I wiped my mouth and flashed him a smirk. "Gotta hustle harder."
"That desperate for cash?"
His eyebrows shot up. "What's going on?"
"Trying to buy a place. Bank wants it all upfront."
No point sugarcoating it.
Vincent tugged his shirt back on and dropped onto the couch across from me. "Funny you mention that. I've got a gig that could line your pockets fast." He leaned in. "But it's not for the faint of heart."
Hardship?
I thought about the cops' sneers, Ethan vanishing without a word, the landlord's eviction threat.
And that smug old bat's face when I admitted what I really did for a living.
What the hell couldn't I handle at this point?
"I'm in."
Vincent adjusted his collar, watching me. "Brave enough to step outside tonight? Fifty grand, minimum."
I froze.
The spa was safe—the manager's protection, the predictable grind.
But out there? No safety net.
Vincent didn't press. Just slid a card across the table.
"Call me when you're ready."
Vincent Roland leaned back, eyes shut, his chest rising and falling as he kept a firm hand on my head.
"Jesus, Jessica. You've been killing it lately."
A rough pat signaled I was done.
I wiped my mouth and flashed him a smirk. "Gotta hustle harder."
"That desperate for cash?"
His eyebrows shot up. "What's going on?"
"Trying to buy a place. Bank wants it all upfront."
No point sugarcoating it.
Vincent tugged his shirt back on and dropped onto the couch across from me. "Funny you mention that. I've got a gig that could line your pockets fast." He leaned in. "But it's not for the faint of heart."
Hardship?
I thought about the cops' sneers, Ethan vanishing without a word, the landlord's eviction threat.
And that smug old bat's face when I admitted what I really did for a living.
What the hell couldn't I handle at this point?
"I'm in."
Vincent adjusted his collar, watching me. "Brave enough to step outside tonight? Fifty grand, minimum."
I froze.
The spa was safe—the manager's protection, the predictable grind.
But out there? No safety net.
Vincent didn't press. Just slid a card across the table.
"Call me when you're ready."
End of Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to Confessions of an Escort：The Dark Hobbies of the Wealthy book page.