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“Stay,” I said. “No clock. No money. Just stay, if you want to.”
Isla looked at me for a long time. Then she picked up her phone, texted the agency that she was home safe, and turned it off.
“I never do this,” she said. “It’s my number one rule.”
“I know.”
“You don’t know. You’re guessing.” But she slid back under the duvet and curled into me, and we talked until two, and fell asleep with her leg hooked over mine.
I woke at seven to grey Edinburgh light and her mouth on my neck.
“Morning,” she whispered. “I’m breaking rule number two now.”
She kissed down my chest, slow and sleepy, and took my cock into her mouth until I was gripping the sheets. Then she climbed on top of me, rolled on a condom, and sank down with a soft groan. No performance this time. Just her, hair wild, freckles bare, moving on me slow and deep while the city woke up outside. I held her hips and watched her face as she came, trembling, her forehead pressed to mine. I followed a moment later, saying her real name.
Afterwards she lay on my chest and drew circles.
“Rule number three,” she said, “is never give a client your number.”
She took my phone and typed it in herself.
Ending 1 of 16: Off the Clock. You found the full happy ending.