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‘I do.’
‘And you’ve been operating right under my nose for how long?’
He gave her a hundred-watt smile that made her wonder how much it cost him. ‘Nick and I’ve worked together. Did you know that he moonlights at a hotel a couple of blocks from here? We’re not in direct competition, you see, so we can scratch each other’s backs from time to time.’
‘I know. Nick has no secrets once you put a scare into him, and he has a very large network of … people who do what you do, I’ve discovered.’
He lowered himself into the armchair and sat in a variation on his trademark pose from the bar, with legs stretched out and forearms propped against the chair’s arms. She wouldn’t call his appearance kingly, not with that rakish grin. He came off more like a usurper who had won his throne through treachery.
‘And here I am, ready to “do what I do” for you.’ He drew his hands up in front of him, fingers forming a steeple. ‘If you are interested in a threesome, I’m sure I can arrange for Nick to waive his fee. His shift is done at eleven, isn’t it?’
‘I’m not interested in Nick. Even if I was, I’m sure I could get him without you.’
‘Ah, so I’m special.’
He laughed. It was a wonderful, rolling sound, and contagious. The corners of her mouth twitched with wanting to join in.
She took one end of the sofa for herself. The conversation had rooted her a little. After the waiting and watching, to be at the doors of negotiation made her feel a little more empowered.
‘So now you have me, but whether I’m willing to take your money in exchange is something altogether different. I can assure you that barring the more extreme acts I won’t mention, there’s not much I’m willing to say no to.’ He tapped his fingers together and narrowed his eyes in study. ‘I don’t normally ask questions, it’s not good business, but my curiosity is starting to get to me: why am I here?’
‘We’re overdue for a chat, aren’t we?’
‘I don’t think so, Sonia.’ He paused, and followed his words with a rumbling chuckle. ‘You’re using an alias, aren’t you? Why would that be? You could have taken me to the bar. Instead you’re secreted away with me in the honeymoon suite.’
She leaned forward. ‘You think I want to fuck you?’
He looked at her like he knew it gave her a rush to say it, like he knew that, in spite of her business-like tone, she was getting wet just sitting there across from him.
‘I think your intentions are honest, that you’re here to tell me to fuck off and never set foot in your lobby again, but … you are thinking about it, aren’t you?’ He leaned forward, forearms across his knees, and clasped his hands together. Long fingers layered over those scarred knuckles, and yet there was something gentle about his hands that made his wolfish grin more bearable. ‘You could never afford me. I ought to know, I got my start working in hotels so I know how much you take home. It would cost you at least a paycheque for two hours. Still, no wedding ring, so you could have disposable income. Besides, if you were married you’d strike me as the type to have an angst-ridden affair over paying for sex. You’re also not thinking of me as your last big hurrah before walking down the aisle: women who are facing the grim prospect of only one cock for the rest of their lives are much more gleeful.
‘I think …’ he whispered with such a lovely rasp that it curled Molly’s toes, ‘I think that you’d be after something much more rich. You strike me as the type of woman who saves her pennies, but every so often there’s a little indulgence you can’t resist trying.’
‘Do you do this with everyone?’ she asked, choking on a slight hitch in her voice.
‘Do what?’
‘Try and mindfuck them before you get your cock out?’
Once more that wonderful laugh exploded in the atmosphere like fireworks. ‘Would you prefer it if I took my cock out while I mindfucked you?’
‘I’d prefer to get to the matter at hand.’
He held his hands out in surrender. ‘Consider me scolded. Now, offer me something from the minibar and tell me you want me to stay the hell out of your hotel so I can give you all the reasons why that’s a bad idea.’
‘You don’t have to tell me why it’s a bad idea. Some of our best clients use your services, and if you go, they’ll go – and you can get your own something from the minibar if you want it.’
She crossed one leg over the other, and a tickle ran through her as his gaze moved along what little thigh she had exposed. She couldn’t keep it hidden this time. She shuddered, and he pinned her back with a look.
Seeing no point in denying the effect he had on her, she laughed. ‘You are good. I’ve only seen it from afar.’
‘It’s all in the details, isn’t it?’ He looked at the bottle she had abandoned, and got to his feet. ‘Everything is made up of little details. Everything. When I first meet a woman, I’m taking in everything about her and trying to work her out. You call it mindfucking, but it’s how I figure out what she wants me to be. I can get a sense of how she sees herself as soon as she comes off the elevator, and I engage her in the bar so I can strip her down before I take her to bed.’
He grasped her bottle, turned and studied her for a moment before pressing his lips to its mouth. She didn’t think this was intentional, but she couldn’t deny how erotic it was to see him with his head tilted back, eyes half-closed, and his throat pulsing as he drank.
When he had finished, he licked his lips and returned to the sofa.
‘It’s a little bit like going down on a woman,’ he went on. ‘She’ll tell you what she wants, but she won’t use words. She’ll use her body. It’ll be a look, a touch, a sound, or all of the above. She gets hot and starts to fidget, and you know it’s just right there, hidden just beneath the surface: all her secrets and desires. Then, like a veil being lifted, you’ve unlocked her.’ He leaned back and draped his arms over the back of the sofa, his expression smug. ‘It’s a skill not every man possesses, and it can’t be taught. It’s why I’m so good at what I do.’
‘As I’ve said, I think it’s time we discuss the matter at hand,’ she said, though she barely heard her own words through the thump of her heart beating.
‘I’d rather do it in a more comfortable setting, if you don’t mind.’
He didn’t need to say what he meant, and it took everything she had not to slide her gaze towards the bedroom.
Molly cocked her head to one side and smirked. ‘I can’t afford you.’
‘Well, here’s the thing, Sonia, the longer I sit here across from you and the more you fidget, the more inclined I am to waive my fee.’
‘Oh, I do have money for you.’
She got to her feet and tried to ignore the ticklish urge to shiver that ran across her shoulders as she moved to the table at the end of the sofa. The interest with which he watched her was so unnerving. Her back to him, she lifted her purse and took the few seconds she had with her face out of reach of his gaze to suck in a deep breath through puckered lips.
‘I booked your time and I’ll pay for it – or, rather, the company will – and we’ll hash this out.’
‘It’s a complicated matter. Are you sure you don’t want to at least take your shoes off?’
She glanced over her shoulder, enough to be sure he was still in his seat, enough to be sure he saw the lack of amusement on her face.
‘Last year, Barry REIT purchased our hotel from Taureau-Werner. Their brand is much different. Their focus is less on corporate clients and more on families. Maybe you’ve noticed that the pool has been closed for the past few weeks. When it reopens, the athletic pool will be gone and in its place will be an egg-shaped abomination with a water-slide. The lounge is next. Forget about spiced olives and venison carpaccio; it’ll be chicken fingers and personal pizzas.’
‘You don’t sound happy about the changes.’
‘I’m not,’ she admitted, shaking her purse and drawing its maw wide open. ‘I’ve been working here since I was sixteen years old. I stayed here because I liked the atmosphere. So, here’s my suggestion for you. You take your business elsewhere, to the Radisson or the Marriott or wherever. For the time being, anyway, Nick will continue his referrals, but you won’t return to the property.’
She caught movement from the corner of her eye, and jumped as he settled his hands on her hips. He had moved so quietly. She hadn’t even heard the sofa creak as he rose.
‘I have a counter offer.’
‘Take your hands off of me,’ she said in a shaky breath.
‘Just a moment. Just … settle.’
‘Don’t tell me to settle. If you don’t take your hands off of me, I’ll start screaming.’
He gave a low, rumbling laugh that danced over her shoulders. ‘Just hear me out. Give me until New Year’s Eve. Just another month and change, and that’s all.’
His breath beat against her cheek. She could feel it penetrate the skin and soak into her. It wasn’t as though he had any sort of grip on her; she could have moved aside and just evaded him, but it was as though that hand on her hip was an anchor he used to keep her against him.
She tried not to think of what he said about ‘unlocking’ a woman. She pushed it out of her head and pulled in a deep breath.
‘Why New Year’s Eve? Is that your busiest night?’
‘I’m not a pizza delivery man,’ he replied with laughter that skimmed over her ear. ‘New Year’s Eve is my last night. As in, I’m retiring after that.’
She turned her head just slightly. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Completely. I turn thirty-six on New Year’s Eve. I’ve been planning this night for a long time, and I would consider it a personal favour if you would let me have it unscathed.’
Molly opened her mouth to say something, but quickly discovered that she couldn’t come up with anything. She overflowed with questions that had only been slinking around her consciousness since she first noticed him all those months ago.
Only one poured out: ‘How long have you been doing this?’
‘Half my life. I started when I was eighteen.’ He squeezed his fingers into the swell of her hip. ‘Please, look the other way for six weeks, and then you’ll never see me again.’
‘Why should I?’
Molly went still as he dropped his chin on her shoulder.
‘We could come to some sort of arrangement,’ he said quietly.
‘Are you trying to bribe me?’ she scoffed. ‘Offering to cut me in or something?’
‘Or something. I like that.’ he murmured, wrapping his words around her as he said it again.
Or something.
The significance of ‘or something’ stole her objection. Delivered in such a soft, coaxing voice and mingling with the heat bleeding through her clothes, ‘or something’ swept her as far away as possible from what she knew she should do this moment.
He slid one hand forward until it lay flat on her stomach, and what little space left between them was closed.
‘You can tell me what you want, or you can show me.’
She turned her head and felt the heat from his mouth at the corner of hers. ‘I want you to take the money.’
He made a fist, bunching the front of her dress and tugging it up just a little, until the hem rubbed mid-thigh. Holding her at the nape of her neck, he nuzzled the sensitive slope. Only the faintest burn of bristle scraped against the skin, enough to raise goosebumps on her arms and legs.
‘And?’
She touched her tongue to her teeth. She hadn’t brought him here for this, but that ‘or something’ had made all the difference.
‘Or something’ had roused the wicked part of herself she hadn’t forgotten about and missed dreadfully. It whispered to her that no one would ever find out, and even if they did wouldn’t it be worth it? When would she have an opportunity like this again?
He propped his chin on her shoulder again. ‘What do you really want from me?’
She sucked in a breath in an attempt to claw back the words creeping over her tongue, but it was no use. ‘I want you to take my money and fuck me.’
‘That’s better,’ he said, and pressed his knee between her legs.
Molly was rendered breathless. Just a nudge, and she felt as though he had completely exposed her.
‘I’ll take your money,’ he went on. ‘Show it to me. Count it out.’
‘Don’t you trust me?’
‘I do. You’ve got a face I can trust, but I like experiencing a woman laying her money out. You can practically feel the temperature rising with each bill laid on top of another. Go on. Count it out for me.’
The tips of her fingers grew hot as she reached into her purse and drew out the fat envelope tucked between her wallet and cosmetics bag. As she scratched free the strip of tape that held the envelope closed, her skirt inched a little further up, nearly to her hipbones.
He pushed against her, the tip of his cock poking just above her ass. ‘Count.’
‘One hundred,’ she began, pulling out one bill and letting it flutter to the surface of the end table. ‘Two hundred …’
On and on she counted, one bill after another. Her hands began to tremble and her voice grew thick as she pushed it from the back of her throat. She glanced longingly aside to the water they had both been sipping, then lost the thought as he dug his fingertips into her.
‘You’re almost there.’ His words urged her on, but his actions only made it harder to speak.
The last bill fell, making a total of three thousand dollars, and with it she shuddered. His grip on the back of her neck eased but he didn’t withdraw.
‘There we go,’ he said, lips moving just below her ear. ‘It takes a certain kind of woman to pay for a hard cock. The best kind, in my opinion. Then again, I am a tad biased.’
The sting of his teeth pinched her skin, just long enough to give his words a punch. Molly was completely defenceless as he slipped the other hand down and grasped her skirt. She couldn’t conjure a single objection as he dragged the thick woollen dress over her head. She raised her arms and expelled a sigh as the room went dark.
His words continued as he let the dress drop to her feet in front of her. ‘The thought of using me usually gets a woman wet. I’m just a hard dick to ride, but that’s not what’s pushing your buttons, is it? It’s that you’re just a pussy to me. You’re just something to fuck, just like me.’
She gave her head a shake as he turned her around, but what was there to object to? Her entire body rebelled against her, silencing her sensible side. She reached between them and yanked the buttons of his jacket, then pushed it over his shoulders. As the garment bunched at his elbows, it struck Molly that in spite of his submissive expression his look was feral.
She took a long look down his body. As she met his gaze, her mouth split into a grin, and she reached between his thighs.
So it wasn’t just the swagger, after all.
‘“Just a hard dick”? It doesn’t feel like “just a hard dick” to me.’
Molly closed her hand around the hard column and watched his face as she kneaded its length. He gave no reaction, until she reached the tip that tented against his fly, and pressed her thumb to it. A puff of air and a slight crease on his brow let her know he was enjoying this as much as she was.
She plucked at his buttons until the shirt fell open. The expanse of his chest appeared to her a little at a time until the shirt was free. For a moment she was astounded at how glorious he looked. She grasped the bunched fabric and hung on, anchored with him in the chaos of her beating heart.
When he opened his mouth to speak again, Molly reached up behind his head and pulled him down. She needed a reprieve from those delectable words that ignited her like a tongue teasing between her legs. He bowed towards her, and Molly bent forward, mouth watering with the need to taste him.
At first there was only his $300 cologne surrounding her, reminding her how he made his money.
You’re just something to fuck, just like me.
There it was, that salt and heat she’d craved. She swiped her tongue over his pectoral, then crooked her head to close her lips around his nipple.
He pushed forward and went taut. She was tempted to push back at him and thrust him down on the sofa he’d vacated. She wanted to eat him alive. She gave it back to him, biting down and crooking her fingers to dig her nails into his hard forearms.
With a throaty sound he shrugged off her hands and wormed out of his jacket and shirt. She gave him another nip and curled her tongue upward, then reached for his belt.
