My eyes snap back to hers as she slaps her hand over mine and leans forward. “Like hell I’m going to drop it.”

I stare at the top of her hand while she squeezes mine. “It was one person. That’s it. When I lived in the apartment building with my mum, the landlady would pay me to scratch her itch you could say. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. That’s disgusting.” Her judgemental tone is starting to piss me off and I pull my hand out from under hers. Who in the fuck does she think she is?

“Whatever,” I snap. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. You’ve always had everything handed to you on a silver platter. So, until you’ve walked a day in my shoes, don’t fucking judge me, okay, Princess?”

Crossing her arms under her chest, she lets me know she’s not happy with my comment. “That goes two ways. Don’t judge me either. You have no idea what kind of life I’ve had,” she says with a hurt look on her face. I feel like a prick now.

“Okay. I was out of line.” Even though I’m pretty sure her life’s been a hell of a lot better than mine. This isn’t a competition about who’s had the shittier life. We all have struggles that we handle differently, I guess.

“Do you still do it? Like, get paid to have sex I mean?” she asks. I roll my eyes, because I thought this conversation was over. Obviously not.

“No. It stopped the day I moved here.” Why do the answers keep coming out of my mouth when I don’t want them to? I’ve always been a private person. It’s like my brain and mouth aren’t even a part of me today. I wish I’d shut the fuck up.

“How old were you when it started?” Jesus, what’s with all these damn questions? I should’ve known she wouldn’t understand. “How old Carter?”

“Fifteen, I guess,” I answer, rubbing my hands over my face in frustration.

“Fifteen? How old was your landlady?”

I squeeze my eyes tight before taking a deep breath. “Fuck, I don’t know, in her early thirties.”

“What? You were just a kid. What a sick, twisted bitch,” she snaps. “That’s child abuse.”

“Keep it down! It wasn’t fucking child abuse. Jesus. It wasn’t like that,” I angrily whisper, glancing around as I run my hand through my hair silently willing her to drop it. I look around for the waitress. Where is our damn food?

“Like hell it isn’t. The legal age for consensual sex in this country is sixteen. You were a minor and she was an adult. She should’ve known better. Does your mother know?” Her probing has me exhaling an exasperated breath.

“Fuck no,” I answer. Now it’s my turn to speak a little too loudly. “She’d have a fit if she knew.”

“Of course she would, because what that woman did was wrong on so many levels. How dare she do that to you?” she says in a disgusted tone.

“It was more like me doing her,” I chuckle. I watch her shake her head.

“This isn’t a joke, Carter.”

My eyes lock with hers. I expect to see judgement, but I don’t. She looks upset. I sigh. I have no idea why I even told her. I’ve never confessed that to anyone. It’s not something I’m ashamed of, but I’m not proud of it either. I did what I had to do.

It started not long after my fifteenth birthday. I was mowing the lawns for the landlady. Prior to that day, I did things like the lawns, putting out the bins on trash night, changing light bulbs, weeding gardens, painting fences. Shit like that. It was hard work, but she paid me well.

That particular day was hot. When I was done cutting the grass, I removed my shirt and wiped the sweat from my brow. I’m well built, so even at fifteen I looked older than my actual age. That’s when I noticed the landlady, Simone, watching me through the window.

She was a lot older than me, but still a total babe. I was a teenage kid with raging hormones. Of course I’d noticed her. Who wouldn’t? She had long blonde hair, huge fake tits, and a killer body. She was always wearing skimpy, revealing clothes. A young boy’s wet dream you could say.

I later found out she was divorced. She married a sugar daddy for his money and used her payout from the property settlement to buy the block of units. Not cool, but I suppose she was set for life.

Usually she’d just hand me my envelope from the door, but that particular day she invited me in for a cold drink. It was hot, so I didn’t think much of it. That’s when she propositioned me. Of course I was shocked, but as I said earlier, I was a horny kid. The thought of getting my dick wet actually excited me.

I was hesitant with my answer, so she was quick to up the ante. I guess she was horny too. She not only offered to pay me double what she already was, she offered to cut my mum’s rent in half. How could I say no to that? I knew how much my mum was struggling.

My mum never found out what I was up to. I know she wouldn’t have liked it. When she’d give me the rent money each week, I’d take half out and gradually feed it back in her purse. I was smart. I’d do small amounts each day. That way she wouldn’t notice. Well if she did, she never said anything.

After I agreed, Simone asked me to take a shower with her. I was kind of freaking out, but I did it. She gave me my first blow job. Over the coming days and weeks, she taught me everything I needed to know about pleasing women. She knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to show me. She’d make me do things over and over until I got them right. I guess she made me into the ‘Sex God’ I am today. I can’t complain about that part. The women love me. Not many guys my age would have the experience I have.

Simone got really pissed off when she found out we were moving. I mean really pissed. She screamed, she cried and she smashed things. At first I couldn’t understand why. Looking back now I should’ve seen the signs. Over time things changed; the way she touched me, kissed me, looked at me. I was just a kid, so I didn’t think much of it.

A few nights before we were set to move, she offered me two thousand dollars to spend the night. Of course I said yes, even though I wasn’t too keen on the idea. That’s when it all came to a head. She was riding me, my eyes were glued to her huge fake-arse tits as they bounced around, when suddenly she started to cry. Like sob her fucking heart out.

“Please don’t go,” she begged as she collapsed on my chest. At first I thought it was the sex she was going to miss, I was a sex god after all. Then she confessed she had feelings for me. Hell fucking no. It was a business arrangement. That’s it. I never signed on for any of that other shit. That’s not how I roll. She was a means to an end, nothing more. Not once during our time together did I ever think of her in that way. Needless to say, I lifted her off me and got out of bed. I left the money on the nightstand and hightailed it out of there. It was the last time I saw her.

“You must’ve done a lot of sexual favours if you earned enough money to buy a car,” Indi says in a repulsed tone. Her attitude really gets my back up. Why I feel the need to justify my actions to her, I’ll never know, but for some reason it’s important to me that she understands why I did it.

“I started doing odd jobs for her when I was twelve. I gave half of everything I earned to my mum, the rest I saved. As I said, the sexual favours didn’t start until I was fifteen. Despite what you think, I worked hard for that money. There’s nothing wrong with working hard for what you want.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says, her hand reaching out to cover mine again. I don’t know why she’s making such a big deal out of this. My eyes travel down to her hand and back up to her face. She quickly draws it back. For some reason I wish she didn’t pull away.

“I’m not sorry,” I tell her honestly. “That money helped us out a lot. My mum really struggled over the years.”