Page 44 of The Toy Maker

Three seconds into my departure, Jason grabbed my elbow and spun me back around.

“I’m sorry.” I froze as the words left his mouth.

Suspicion crept in. “For what?”

“For going overboard with the demonstration.” The sudden softness in his eyes almost convinced me. “I went too far.” He let go of my arm and watched as I processed his apology. The cocky tone had disappeared from his voice, leaving me confused and almost making me believe him.

I avoided looking directly at him. “It’s fine,” I sighed.

“Good.” His voice remained smooth and calm. “So, are you interested in testing another toy?”

My head swirled with all the possible responses. Why else would he have wanted to see me? I should have expected the offer, been better prepared for it. Instead, I was disappointed. Maybe I should have been grateful he bothered to apologize at all.

“What would I have to do?”

“Similar to last time,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll pay you your hourly wage plus overtime.”

“Per hour?” Jason’s nod secured my answer. “Hell no.”

He frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m not subjecting myself to another hour of that,” I protested.

He raised an eyebrow. “What if I gave you a hundred dollars an hour?”

I opened my mouth to shoot down his offer, but I shut it just as quickly. I remembered my bills and my father’s request for money. Although he wasn’t worth it, my younger siblings were. It wasn’t their fault they had an awful dad.

Maybe I just wished someone cared enough about me to save me from my reckless parents.

I agreed before common sense could get the better of me.

If all it took were a few awkward test runs of the toys to get out of debt and help my siblings have a more secure childhood than mine, it was worth it.

Ihoped.

After two weeksof testing Jason’s prototypes, any time I could spare was spent with him. Most days I would sneak past Kitty when she was sorting the shelves and head straight to his workshop.

My days off were spent on his table and at night, the thought of our tests invaded my dreams. He never touched me, not even when I moaned or begged him to turn up the toy, and despite declaring that he would fuck me after the demonstration, he never made another advance.

At first, I was relieved, but after consecutive wet dreams which led to many late nights with my hands down my pants, I began to wonderwhyhe never tried.

When I finally mustered up the courage to ask, he merely smiled without looking away from his newest project and said that he wouldn’t touch me until I asked.

I didn’t bring it up after that.

A few days later, I decided to bury the dirty thoughts running rampant through my brain and end the tests. I had enough money, at least enough to get by, and the exhaustion was eating away at my sanity.

My typical walk to Pink Cherrie resulted in numerous run-ins with loyal customers and Cherries who were heading home. I made polite conversation and hurried inside before I could be derailed from my mission again.

The vanilla-scented air engulfed me as soon as I stepped foot in the door. The store’s aggressively sexual interior no longer surprised me as I became familiar with the hedonistic environment.

Instead of waiting for Kitty to appear from behind the shelves or out of the back room, I headed straight towards Jason’s lair. The Cherries in the store paid no attention to me as I hurried across the room and disappeared into the back hall.

Every time I faced the door, my heart climbed into my throat. I knocked and ignored the hesitation pooling in my mind. After a few moments of second-guessing my decision to show up, the door opened.

“You don’t have to knock anymore, you know,” Jason remarked as he returned to his project waiting on the table, glancing at me over his shoulder. “I knew you were coming.”

“Noted.” I peered around the room, biting my lip as I tried to find the strength to say what I needed to.