He can't help but admire you as you're upon his lap; his body laid back on the motel bed.

A cigarette between his lips; taking drags of it between his words. Letting you in on how he's feeling lately. As though he's losing his touch with his job. Failing to keep up.

Usually, listening to clients vent wasn't part of the service you provided. But Ghost isn't like your other clients.

A soft sigh escapes him. His eyes upon you.

"How much would it cost for me to be your only client?"