mine tonight

[of_coins]

Jules doesn't bother to call her when he isn't coming home anymore. She doesn't bother to call to ask him to come home either. A sad state of affairs for such a young marriage, it's only been three years, but then again they'd never been lovey dovey, never been the honeymoon couple. They'd gone out because Judithe had suggested it and the real draw

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[drifterdream]

In truth he hadn't expected her to agree to such a high fee. Had either expected to be haggled down or immediately told no. It's a lot of money to be given for one night, each note weighing heavily. He's glad she plays the tease with it, makes him work for it. Not that he ever doesn't give his all, but he hopes to really earn it, hopes to ease any loneliness that might linger behind her disinterested words.

She'd paid for the night, and so he'll stay until she kicks him out, easily accepting her weight against him despite the heat and sweat clinging to his skin. He smooths fingers over her hair, pulling the length of it away from her neck. A pleasant fatigue is working its way through his body, but he keeps his eyes open and on her, watching to see if she wants more, anything else. He shares her smile, soft, knuckles rubbing over the back of her neck.

[of_coins]

It isn't her money, she doesn't care where it does, and neither does Jules. Her boy doesn't even really need to work, could just siphon off the others, but he might be the artistic one of the four, pursuing relentlessly after architecture as if he's any good at it. He's good enough, but he's no genius. He knows that, Rachel knows that. He says he's content. The same reason her doesn't call her a whore and divorce her. Contentment, weakness.

Her fingertips swirl around the round bone of the man's hip absentmindedly. Maybe because the money is meaningless to her, she doesn't feel the need to pretend he's anything but what he is. He's no investment in fantasy, not really a substitute for her husband, is just a whore, just another waste and excess. Her sisters would be appalled. Her smile widens wickedly against his chest, glancing up at him lazily with dark eyes that belie the fake color of her hair.

She wants this bed to reek of him, wants his sweat on the sheets so Jules will itch with it the next time he lies down next to her

[drifterdream]

He considers asking her if she really wants to know. It's doubtful she does, clients like her are only interested in the sex, not the person within the body. He doesn't mind that, doesn't find it hurtful, and confronting it is never really worth the tension it can create.

He tells the truth, is never one given to lies, prefers to avoid answers if giving them would make trouble. "I need the money." He spreads his hand over her shoulder, idle patterns over soft skin. "And I enjoy it."

[of_coins]

It's doubtful she cares, if he'd given an answer she found particularly amusing, she might have mocked him for it. Instead her hand just comes up along his cheek, coaxing him down to meet her mouth. He should know by now that it'll get him more cash into his hands if he's good and compliant with her. She's enjoying wasting the money.

She nudges with her hip, sliding from his chest down into the pillows, shifting the position so she can be gathered into his shoulder, more of his body and warmth splayed over her. It's what he's there for.

"Doesn't look like you're spending your cash on bling and cellphones," she murmurs into his bottom lip.