The Billionaire's Hustler Lover

“MORE, SWEETHEART! C'MON, GIVE IT TO ME!" Rosalind could only shake her head while sweat poured down her face. She was utterly exhausted, so tired that she wasn’t sure if she'd be able to walk properly later because her muscles were aching so much. The old guy beneath her moaned, “Sweetheart, I want more!” Rosalind gasped for breath. “Okay, should I speed up or keep it gentle?” “Faster, sweetie!” he insisted. She picked up the pace like he asked. “Like this?” The old man went wild with pleasure. “Yes! Oh, s**t! You’re so good!” She was torn between getting annoyed or laughing at his over-the-top reaction, so she just focused on giving his plump back a really good rub. And there he went again, trembling in delight. “Please don’t stop! I want more...” She took a step back. “That’s enough, sir.” His face lifted, clearly disappointed. “Enough, sir.” He frowned at her, his deep lines and age spots becoming more pronounced. “Why?!” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. “Sorry, sir, but your time is up,” she explained while stretching her arms. “Can I extend again?” he begged, looking almost as forlorn as a sad puppy. “Sir, this is already your third hour. I might crush your bones with all this massaging,” she said, crossing her arms. “Besides, my hands are getting tired. I need a break.” Even though her hands were aching from all the work, she hadn’t really noticed how much time had passed. She had been lost in her own thoughts, her mind occupied with all the problems she’d been facing these past few weeks. The old man chuckled. “Sorry, dear. You give such a wonderful massage and...” He gave her a once-over. “You’re also very pretty.” She gave a fake smile. “That’s alright. Just come back tomorrow. If you extend any longer, I might just end up killing you.” He laughed heartily at her response. What was funny? Didn’t he know that too much massage could be dangerous? He looked like the type to have a stroke with just a little extra pressure. The old man was still smiling as he put on his suit, which he had taken off before lying down on the massage bed. “You did wonderful, as always,” he said before pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket. She gave a meek nod. That was one thing that she liked about this job—there was always some extra cash involved. He was a regular customer and was very fond of her. She was his favorite among all the masseuses at their spa. “What’s your name again, dear?” She rolled her eyes. It was the third time he had asked her that. With his age, it was no doubt he had memory problems already. “It’s Rosalind,” she replied with a blank expression. “Just call me Rose, sir.” The old man smiled and winked at her. “Thank you, Rose. You made me come...” And then, he quickly disappeared from her sight. Her eyes widened as his words sank in. That damn geezer! She was fuming. People had really lost their manners and respect these days. She was a professional masseuse, not a GRO! If only they knew how hard she worked to earn an honest living. Besides being a masseuse, Rosalind also did some modeling gigs for low-profile photoshoots. Those shoots helped a lot, even when she earned only a measly eight bucks per session. It covered some of her bills, but it was never enough. Even with a steady job and side gigs, her earnings were barely sufficient. The rent, utilities, and food consumed everything. She had nothing saved and was always short on money for her younger sister’s medicine. Her nine-year-old sister, Raelyn, had a congenital heart defect she inherited from their father, which was also why they were the only ones left in their family. Their mother had run away when they were young and married a wealthy man. At just fifteen, Rosalind became Raelyn’s sole guardian. She juggled work with her studies and managed to get through her first year of college. But after their grandmother’s death, she had to leave school and focus fully on supporting Raelyn. She completed a six-month reflexology and massage course and immediately applied for a job at a popular spa to keep them afloat. She worked tirelessly from morning till night, but with Raelyn’s heart condition worsening, she couldn’t afford to continue with the job anymore. They needed to put her under surgery soon, and for that, she needed a large amount of money—and fast. Exhausted, she slumped onto the massage bed and let out a long sigh. But where could she find it? Time was ticking, but she hadn’t even saved half of what she needed. She had sold everything and borrowed from everyone, but she still couldn’t reach the amount the doctor required. She looked at her phone—no calls or texts from Catie, her best friend. Catie was the one who had introduced her to modeling. Her friend was resourceful, knowing many side gigs and often bringing her along for them. She was also the one she relied on to watch Raelyn whenever she had to work overtime. “Catie, please call me soon...” she pleaded with her phone. A month ago, she had begged Catie to find her a high-paying one-time gig. Catie knew a lot about these opportunities but had been hesitant to help, as she knew the jobs weren’t common and safe ones to take. But after seeing her dire need, she eventually agreed. And thanks to her friend’s connections, she was able to get her application in. But it wasn’t any ordinary job—it was unique and scandalous... Because she would be having a one-night stand with not just any man, but a billionaire! She had completed the test, interviews, including the medical checks, in just a day. There was one more twist: this particular billionaire wanted a different woman every week. He preferred someone he didn’t know, and he made sure of that by giving a long list of terms and agreements to avoid further issues. Just thinking about it gave her chills, but she had to toughen up for Raelyn’s sake. Then suddenly, her phone rang. It was Catie. She answered immediately. “Oh my God, Rosalind!” Catie shouted on the other end. “What’s the news?” she asked anxiously. She heard her take a deep breath. “Babe, I hope you’re really ready for this gig...” “W-why?” She felt her knees going weak. “D-did I pass?” “Yes, you did! And tomorrow is your big night with Mr. Billionaire!” She dropped the phone in disbelief. She had passed! Out of so many applicants, she was chosen. She was going to be the temporary entertainment for the billionaire tomorrow night!