Candidate Four by Crystal Cierlak

never once satisfying himself.
    ‘I suppose that depends entirely on you. Are you happy? Did I please you?’
    ‘They’re paying for you for the evening. Believe me, they already know what they want to do with you. Or to you.’ Quinn had explained.
    Was that the twelfth man’s taste? Paying to get a girl off without ever getting himself off? Why? That was something other than selflessness. It bordered on sadistic, only the person he was hurting was himself. At that thought her eyes went to his hips. With the way he was leaning and how his shirt draped over his thighs she couldn’t get a clear answer to her question.
    He raised his head from his hands at the sound of a ringing telephone from the adjoining room, and stood with a sigh. “Excuse me,” he said before standing and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. She could just barely make out the sound of his voice as he answered the phone. He didn’t seem very pleased with whomever he was speaking to, and she wondered if it was someone new or maybe Mark or Celine from before.
    What kind of life did the twelfth man lead? He was obviously wealthy to an obscene extent; Quinn had inferred as much about the Gentleman who bid on Candidates for an evening of their company. He didn’t look or act more than ten years older than her and yet between the levels of intensity and stress he seemed to operate at he might have had the heart of a much older man. He hadn’t slept at all and spent what time there was away from her that evening working and taking phone calls. And yet in spite of all those factors it was she whom he wanted to please, not himself.
    Without another second of hesitation Natalie stood, reached down and tugged the bath plug to drain the water and wrapped herself in a towel as she stepped out, the still-warm water receding around her legs. She reached for a second towel and brought it to her hair, ringing out the excess water as quickly as she could before securing the damp tresses into a knot at the nape of her neck.
    Clutching the towel around her bust , Natalie stepped quietly towards the main room and found him sitting on the couch, his attention locked on his phone as he swiped through the screen. He had found the time somewhere either in the middle or after his phone call to put on a pair of jeans, but they were unbuttoned and open at his waistline. She diverted her attention from his body and took a seat in front of him on the coffee table like she had the previous evening when they first entered the penthouse. He put his phone face down next to him and looked at her expectantly.
    “Before I left or forgot I wanted to say thank you.” His brow furrowed, his eyes searching hers back and forth. She continued. “Of all the ways tonight could have gone- Or rather, of all the Gentleman who could have bid on me, I’m glad it was you.”
    The twelfth man looked amused, like he wanted to smile but couldn’t summon one on such short notice. “You really are too polite, Natalie.”
    She shrugged. “Maybe. But the way I see it, there are enough assholes in this world. A nice, polite girl like me might just tip the scales a little. Besides…” she gripped his knees with her hands and used them to leverage her sore body down to the ground between his legs. “I think you’re worth being polite to.” She slid her fingers under the hem of his shirt and up his torso, bringing the cotton fabric up with it until his taut abs were exposed.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, a vein of nervousness in his voice.
    “Returning the favor,” she shrugged and smiled as her hands met the denim fabric of his pants and pulled the two sides further apart. They widened enough over his hips that she was able to tug down the boxer briefs and spring his semi-erect penis from its containment. He hardened completely in front of her eyes and her smile broadened. The part of him that had brought her the most intense physical pleasure and she’d only just now had