[ Clay is speechless for a moment, lost to his own inhibitions. Her leg is all but too close, and her hands are on him in such a way that his instinctive, human response is that it is the latter. ]

My fortune. [ He says softly instead, brows furrowed. Why was that answer delayed by a moment? The thought makes him feel uneasy but he slides his hand a bit more behind his back. ]

And I do mean "whoring" to be more than that. It isn't only his potential... sexual satisfaction that would make me jealous. You're more than a one-trick pony when it comes to your talents. [ He kisses her cheek and leans into her. ]

I'll admit my pride if you admit that you enjoy the power of your "interpersonal skills"?