He lay on the bed. Relaxed, charming, confident. Just as always when he was quietly invited into the bedroom of one of the small-town ladies, there to help those poor women experience a bit of pleasure.

These encounters made him feel like a real man. He was the best, the most experienced, the most skilled of lovers, and nothing fed his ego quite like that. It was one of the rare moments when women drank in his presence and touch, without disapproving glances or crude remarks.

And he could make money from it.

She entered the bedroom quietly, gently closing the door behind her and leaning against it. She looked at him from beneath the veil of her lashes, a soft sigh slipping past her slightly parted lips.

He had seen and pleased many beautiful women before, yet in truth, they were all the same. But her gaze was different. Her body language, the unreadable expression on her face, the soft, trembling breath—he couldn’t look away.

"Come here, doll"

He enticed her with a smooth, deep, and alluring voice, his dark eyes never leaving her.