18: What You Want From Me?

Cassie POV

I swallowed hard at his declaration after he spoke. Joshua wasn’t being sweet or romantic with his words; he was just being himself, laying bare what was in his heart. It was his truth, the raw way he wanted me.

He didn’t want a romance with me, like those soap opera scenes where a man falls in love with a woman and they end up together. What Joshua felt for me wasn’t love—at least, that’s what he could make sense of right now. But one thing he was sure of: he wanted me.

He wanted me to be his mistress, to share his bed, and he was even willing to pay me millions to have me. I swallowed hard under his gaze. Did he want me *that* much? I didn’t know what to say…

There were so many things I wanted to tell him. I wanted to ask so many questions, to say he was making me angry, that he couldn’t want me *that* much. I wanted to tell him sex wasn’t everything. What was so hard about being a romantic guy who’d fall for me so we could be together forever, like in those soap opera scenes?

But was that what I really wanted? What would a romance with the powerful Josh Carter bring me? An older, successful man who carried the weight of media scrutiny—would all that attention distract me and keep me from chasing my own dreams?

If I were to stay with him, it would have to be for love, not any other reason. And to jump into a new romance right after being hurt so badly? My wounds were still so raw… Maybe Josh’s offer of just sex was the best thing for now.

I bit my lips lightly and looked down, sighing softly. Though the food was absolutely delicious, in that moment, my taste buds were indifferent—I couldn’t taste it anymore. Joshua stood up, and I watched him head to the bedroom.

Maybe he didn’t want to be around me anymore. Had I offended him with my actions or words? Or maybe with my silence… But, disregarding all my thoughts, he returned with an envelope in hand and handed it to me, sitting back down.

I took the envelope curiously. “What’s this?” I asked, noticing it wasn’t heavy but clearly had something inside.

“I printed the contract for you. You can review it calmly and give your answer whenever you’re ready,” he replied.

I opened the envelope and saw a stack of printed papers. I gave a weak smile, unsure how to handle it. Plus, I was getting a bit anxious. I set the envelope on the table and sipped my wine. “You don’t have to answer today. Don’t get so worked up,” he said.

“And if I say no?” I asked without looking at him.

Joshua took a moment to respond. Maybe he was considering that possibility. Did this man ever hear “no” from women in his life? I bet not. What girl wouldn’t say yes to this amazing offer Joshua was making? I mean, not having to work anymore, just living for fun with tons of money… Who wouldn’t want that?

“It would mean you want me to stay away,” he replied, a bit curtly.

“I don’t want you to stay away. If I did, I wouldn’t have come here with you,” I reminded him. Wanting him to stay away would be the last thing I’d ever want. I got sick at home thinking about him. How could he think I’d want him gone?

“Then why would you refuse this offer?” he asked, thoughtful.

I sighed, with so many things on the tip of my tongue but unsure which words to use. I didn’t want him to think I was confused.

“It’s just… It’s not anything against you, but I don’t see the appeal in this contract—”

“You haven’t even looked at the contract yet,” he interrupted, trying to persuade me. “There’s a lot of good stuff I can offer you. Expensive trips, jets, mansions, whatever you want.”

“I know that, but that’s not what I’m talking about…”

“Then what exactly are you talking about, Cassandra?” he pressed, his gaze genuinely lost.

“Okay, you’re going to give me all this luxury, Joshua, but it’s not something I’d have earned myself. You’re offering me a life that’s too easy—everything’s ready and waiting for me, a wonderful life just having fun with you.

But have you thought about how that would make me feel? I don’t want to be a woman who’s always waiting for men to pay for things. I want to do it myself, fight my own battles… I want my parents to be proud of me one day for what I’ve achieved. With my own effort.”

He looked at me so deeply now. I feared in my heart that he’d say he didn’t expect this from me and kick me out of his house, dissatisfied with me, but he gave a slight smile and took my hand.

“You’re a different kind of girl. I always knew that,” he said, caressing the back of my hand.

“What does that mean?” I asked, still wary. I didn’t trust that sly smile of his.

“It means a lot. It means you just became one of my favorite people. And trust me, my list is pretty short,” he said, sipping his wine.

“Favorite person…?” That phrase, to me, became more important than everything we’d experienced so far. I smiled, a bit emotional. “I’m honored,” I teased.

“I’m the one honored to know you, Cassandra,” he said. “And I’ll respect your decision and always support you, even if it means you don’t want to see me anymore.”

“Hey, I didn’t say I don’t want to see you again,” I corrected him.

He looked at me curiously. “You still want to see me after today? I thought you’d think I’m the worst kind of chauvinist,” he said, laughing, and I joined him.

“It’s normal to think that when you’ve only been around women who always depend on you,” I commented.

He nodded in agreement. “That’s been my whole life.” We laughed. I thought about his laugh—it was so relaxed.

“That’s probably because you’re old, Josh. Most girls my age now are fighting to make their own money,” I said, and he widened his eyes, amused.

“Wow, how interesting! What interesting times, huh!” He made me laugh.

I crawled over to him and sat on his lap, holding his face with both hands. “We’ll see each other again. Many times in the future, right?” I asked, smiling at him, and lightly kissed the tip of his nose.

He held my waist, smiling. “Of course. If it’s up to me, I’ll see you every day,” he replied.

I grinned widely, and he smiled too. “Hmm, I’m so happy. You’re my Daddy. You’re handsome, rich, attractive, even offering me money, and you’re an A+ in bed.” We laughed together. “My Sugar Daddy, that’s what I’ll call you,” I said.

“How ironic, since you won’t take my money,” he pointed out, laughing with me.

“Exactly, I’ll call you that for the irony,” I concluded.