No one knows who The Leverager is, or if they do, they keep his identity a closely guarded secret. You ask to him to do a favor, any favor and he’ll do it, for a price in return of course.
He’s exclusive; he meets the needs of his clients one at a time. They say his price is different according to each client, sometimes it’s money, sometimes it’s trade secrets and sometimes it’s a favor that you’ll have to repay in the future.
The price is always extortionate—when you make a deal with the devil it always is. And I was willing to pay.
His head began to descend closer and closer until his lips were a breath away from mine. Giddy with wanton lust I waited for him to bridge the gap, but he didn’t. He paused, and right when he had me where he wanted, practically ready to swoon, he whispered, “Quit it, I know what you’re trying to do. You aren’t going anywhere. You’re staying the night. It’s past midnight. You take the bed; I’ll take the couch,” he ordered, and then took a step back.
“W–what?” I stuttered in confusion, feeling bereft and frustrated.
“You stay within the boundary of my bedroom, and the rest is my territory. Neither one of us crosses sides,” he said as if he was negotiating a peace treaty, except I’d be getting no peace tonight especially if we weren’t even in the same territory!
“Or we could sleep in the same bed, you stay on the left side and I’ll stay on the right side…no crossovers, no touching, we could even put pillows in between if you’re an active sleeper or have a tendency to spoon in your sleep,” I countered, unable to resist teasing him.
“Nice try, Älskling, but I think we shouldn’t test my restraint any further tonight. I think we both need a little space to cool off, you more than me, it seems. A cold shower might help, and conveniently enough the shower is on your side,” he suggested right before he closed his bedroom door, effectively signifying the commencement of the treaty. And needlessly leaving me aching unfulfilled and exasperated.
There was no way I was going to get any sleep tonight unless . . .
“Dammit,” I whispered to myself. I wished I had my soundproof aluminum casing door sweep for the bottom of the bathroom door to stop him from hearing the cold shower I was about to take.
No, that couldn’t be . . . I cocked my head to the side and listened properly . . . Yep, it was . . . Hearing the sound of the shower I got my pillow and smothered the sound of my laughter. And once it started it didn’t stop for a while.