A Week's Worth Of Love - Prologue

“How long have we known each other?” Jasmine asked her friend.

Eyes on her, he answered. “Three years.”

“Let's sit,” She said.

He obliged and joined her on the stairs. He knew that whatever she has to say was heavy.

She turned to him with a bright smile, “If you were a sex worker, how much would you charge for a week?”

“An entire week?”

Jasmine nodded. “Yes.” This was one of the reasons she loved him. His ability to entertain her many out-of-the-world questions without deeming her crazy or shushing her.

Gabriel mulled over the question for a few minutes and replied. “About four hundred k.”

Jasmine smiled the smile that always conjured a twinkle in her eye. “A bit much, isn't it?”

He shrugged easily, “I'll be worth it.”

And he would, she had to agree. It was evidenced by the number of women after him. He was not blowing his own horn. He was easy on the eyes too, with his fine dark skin and rightly muscled tall form, he was honest to God perfection.

He was looking at her now, openly, no reservations.

She had forgotten about those eyes. Steady unwavering eyes that could unnerve even the toughest person.

She clenched her thighs tight together.

“Why are you asking?”

“These days, I find myself, um, in the mood for sex. Overwhelmingly so.”

He did not blink, nor move his eyes away from her.

“So I thought, why not? I didn't want to go for a sex worker. Health issues and stuff. And besides, it won't be —” She stopped.

“Won't be what?”

Won't be intimate, she wanted to say. She craved that intimacy. “Nevermind,” she told him.

“So what exactly are you saying, Jaz?”

“I want to hire you.”

Silence reigned for a few minutes.

“You want me to fuck you for pay?”

Jazmine's ears burned. “Oh, God, no. It's not… what you just said. I want to be made love to.” She faced him. “And for that entire week you'll only do what I want you to. In bed, of course.”

“For pay?”

“Yes. I'll pay you whatever amount.”

He muttered underneath his breathe, “You must be fucking with me.”

“I'm serious. You know when I'm joking and when I

am not.”

“Why me then? Why not one of the others?” he asked, referring to their other friends.

“I - we've known each other the longest?” She tried to make a joke of it, but she knew it was more than that. He knew it too.

It was between them that a romantic connection existed. And he looked out for her and understood her better and faster than any man in her life. Crazy, chaotic, child-like, moody - whatever side of her it was, he accepted it. And he had the unnerving ability to soothe her moods and fears when she was in the lowest of the low.

And she could, and always, listen to him. That was big for her. Her ex, and her father, had always try to dictate things to her. It had always made her rebel more. But she would gladly let Gabriel take the reins if he wanted to.

“Why the pay then?” he asked her, “I can do as you wish without taking the money.”

“It's so we don't complicate things.”

He raised one full eyebrow.

“I — You see, if you did it without getting paid, it would be a friends with benefits type thing.” She shook her head. “And that can make it complicated. I only want it for a week.”

He nodded. “Makes sense. And you say it's because I'm your oldest friend?”

She replied slowly. “Yeah.” But was it because?

She thought of the slew of erotic-themed pictures they had done together. She could remember the feel of his hands as he cupped her breasts through a flimsy cloth in the one they had done last week.

He was remembering, too. He remembered the weighty feel of her breasts. Warm and full and all woman.

Only God knew the great amount of self-control he had exerted during that shoot. His balls had almost turned blue. And all because he couldn't tell her no when she told him to, “Please, please, be my partner for my next couple of pictures. I've always loved the

idea of an erotic-themed photo.”

But it baffled him that handling just her breasts could have elicited such response from him. He had had women thrown themselves at him - literally- and he'd been able to leave like nothing had happened.

Jaz, Jaz, Jaz,

She was saying beside him, “And I know you have some kinks - Fola told me- but I don't want any of that. I just want to be made love to.”

She was talking in that rushy way that said she was ready to be rejected.

He stood up and stretched out an hand to her. “I'll think about it.”

“Should I send the money?” She asked tentatively.

“I'm pretty sure I don't need your money, Jaz,” he said, wounding an arm around her neck and moving her along. “Keep it as a gift from me. Use it to get yourself another cat.”