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I slid the envelope across the counter towards her.
“Take it,” I said. “Please. This is your job. I want to treat it like your job.”
Tess looked at the envelope. Then she picked it up, walked to my kitchen drawer, put it in, and shut the drawer with her hip.
“No,” she said.
“Tess…”
“Ben, I’m not taking your money. I tried. I can’t. You fished me out of a pond when I was twenty-one.” She came back and stood very close. “I want to sleep with you. I’ve wanted to for about six years. I don’t want to be paid for it.”
“That’s very unprofessional.”
“Terribly,” she agreed, and kissed me on the mouth, which broke her own rule within about thirty seconds of making it.
It was frantic after that. We didn’t make it to the bedroom. She hitched her dress up and I lifted her onto the kitchen counter and she rolled a condom onto me with shaking fingers and wrapped her legs round me as I pushed into her. She clung to my shoulders and moaned into my neck. The cutlery drawer rattled with every thrust. She came first, loudly. I followed with her name on my lips.
Afterwards, sitting on the counter in my T-shirt, eating cereal out of the box, she pointed her spoon at the drawer.
“That envelope,” she said, “is buying us dinner next week.”
Ending 3 of 16: Not For Sale. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.