"Hm?" He lifts a brow as she mentions she's curious about something in particular. Fool that he is, he doesn't see the most obvious of questions coming.

What he wants? It's as if he's been switched off suddenly--no simulations of breathing or blinking, just shocked stillness. What does he want? He can tell she's asking in earnest so why does it sound like a trick question?

How many seconds have gone by now? He has to answer with something. He can't tell her the truth? What will she think of a whore getting sentimental about sex? He can't come out and say that what he's desired most is for deeper connections, for it to mean something. No. That stays good and buried.

"I... hadn't give it much though," he lies. "I'm not choosey, so long as we both have a nice time."