My beautiful billionaire player

CHAPTER 9

"It had been four years since the first time. I decided to give it a try on a whim, and I'm glad I did. Because it works for me, I haven't tried any other kind of relationship since I started doing it."

Twelve ladies over the course of four years. That wasn't the worst thing ever... And you didn't reveal your identity to any of those women, did you?

“No.”

Now comes the truly important part. "Do you always have s*x with the ladies that agree to a relationship like this with you?"

“Yes.” I was anticipating that response from him; yet, his admission of guilt serves as a more effective reality check for me. My name would be added to a list that already had the names of twelve other people before mine.

He observes that the truth of the situation is sinking in within my consciousness. "Don't worry about what the others are doing. I don't."

When he moves on to the next lady three months from now, he won't even think about me since he won't remember me at all. It takes me by surprise how much that concerns me. "I'm not sure if I have what it takes to do this."

He places his hand on top of mine as he reaches across the table and does so. "I won't feel as though I'm talking to a stranger for too longer. You'll have a rapid understanding of who I am. And even if you don't know my name, you'll still get to know the real me."

Even though I'm attracted to this man, I'm not sure if I could ever feel secure enough around him to have s*x with him because I don't even know what his name is.

"When there are no longer any ridiculous pretense, you'll be shocked to see how swiftly our relationship will evolve. When we get together, we are both aware of the other person's expectations, which makes everything simpler and more laid back. Our time spent together is made that much more delightful by the fact that our main goal is to take pleasure in one another's presence. It's fun, there's no stress, and it's a great opportunity."

When he knows for a fact that he can count on me, I suppose there is no pressure.

"Are you using methods to prevent pregnancy?"

Even though I haven't given my consent to any of this, he doesn't waste any time in getting down to business and is very straightforward in his approach. "Of course."

He shows a grin. “Good. We are going to continue to use condoms. Due to the fact that none of the methods of birth control are foolproof, I feel more secure using a combination of the two. I don't want you to leave here with my foot-snatcher in your stomach."

Holy hell, the guy is arrogant.

I was raised by a single mother, therefore I have no desire or need to have another child of my own. When I think about it, I start to get a rigidity. "Abso-friggin-lutely not!"

Casual s*x. Could I pull this off? At least during the time that my ex and I were intimate, I had the impression that I loved him. Even though he is stunningly attractive, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to have an intimate relationship with Stephan because I don't love him. Even though I don't know him at all, he assures me that I will. And soon, it seems. "Is it hard to break up with someone after you realize it's not working out?"

He treats the situation with such a lack of seriousness. I've never encountered any difficulties with it. We haven't been together for a long enough time to form any type of attachment, and we're both aware of how our relationship will eventually come to an end.

On the other hand, unlike his prior relationships, ours wouldn't last for three to four weeks at a time. We would spend the next three months together. That seems like a significant gap to me, but what do I know about the real world? I can't say that I'm the one who's been here before.

"So, during all of that time, I wouldn't have the opportunity to meet your friends or family?"

“No. It is too difficult for me to get together with those folks who are closest to me. It is not possible for you to meet them without first being aware of who I am, and I do not wish to be in the position of having to deceive them about our relationship to one another. Therefore, they would never be aware that I existed. That makes perfect sense, of course." I choke back my saliva. Should I really give in to the want to give in to this utter insanity? To become a secret belonging to someone else? Have I not already had sufficient experience in this role?

"Are you willing to accept? Because from what I can tell, you already are." His bright blue eyes burn with intensity as he begs me to tell him that for the next three months, I will be his.

"I'm not saying yes yet."

"But, you're not saying no."

He has a strong desire for this. "The only thing I'm agreeing to do is spend time with you. We'll have to wait and see how things develop from there."

He exudes joy. "I'm at a loss for a nickname for you other than Yank or American Girl."

If I'm not aware of his true identity, then he has no right to be aware of mine. I make an effort to be creative on the spot, but it's tough to conceive of a name for an alias that I'd like to go by for the following three months. I use my middle name and the surname of my sperm donor as my legal name. "Lois Marcus."

He leans across the table and rubs my fingers with his, which causes a swarm of butterflies to form in the area of my stomach that is closest to my intestines. "It's great to finally put a face to the name, Lois Marcus."

6

Victor Stephens.

Already, I can see that Lois Marcus is not going to make things simple for me in this situation. The others never made me wait for an answer while they were speaking to me. This is something fresh, but I enjoy the excitement of being in the dark about it. I am not concerned about whether she will agree to my proposal tonight because I know that trying to win her approval will be a lot more enjoyable.

And you call yourself Stephan? Who are you?

Everyone knew me as Victor, but my mother has always called me Victor Damion, so I go with a name that is comfortable to me. Everyone knew me as Victor. "Stephan Damion."

I've never used a moniker that's so close to my own name before, but I completely understand why I'm doing it now. It is pointless for me to play coy with myself since I do not want to hear her yell the name of another man when I order her to come. I need to hear her say my name, or at least something that sounds like it, otherwise I'll consider it a failure.

When I consider the things I'll put myself through just to hear her say my name, I can't help but smile. "So how old are you, Miss Marcus?"

“Seventeen.”

“What!” It is not possible that she is seventeen years old. I examine her face carefully, focusing my attention on it, but I'm not sure what it is that I'm hoping to see there. Perhaps some laugh lines?

She is looking at my face. "Would you mind if I told you my age?"

"Seventeen is a problem, hell yeah." I toss my napkin upon the table before continuing. This whole thing was a complete waste of time. "Forget it all. Everything about this is wrong."

"I don't act seventeen. I've got a lot of life experience for my age."

"No way. You're not even of legal drinking age to be imbibing in that alcoholic beverage. I get closer to you and whisper so that no one else can hear us. "I've got almost two decades on you."

"I have no objections. I have issues with my father." I see a large grin break out on her face, and then I hear a cutesy giggle. At that point, I understood that she was intentionally misleading me and that she was capable of lying while maintaining a straight face. That is something that I need to commit to memory for use in the future.

I'm not laughing at all. "It appears that I am dealing with a comedian here."

She has not stopped smiling, and it appears that she is happy by the swift response I gave. "I'm not really, but you walked right into that one, and I just couldn't help myself," she said. Relax, I'm twenty-two years old, at least until the groundhog sees his shadow and decides to change his prediction. Please tell me your age.