Celeste and Giselle both stand, setting down their drinks while Olivia stays seated.
“You don’t have to leave on our account,” Nick says to the two women. “I was just hoping to see my fiancée for a few minutes. She’s been…busy lately.” He shoots her a pointed look, and Giselle giggles. My eyes swing to her, and she’s grinning from ear-to-ear.
“I’m out of here,” Giselle announces.
“Same,” Celeste agrees.
“No, you aren’t.” Olivia stops them. “You’ve been drinking. Please spend the night. Nick has a spare room.”
“It only has one twin bed,” Nick says.
“Giselle’s coming with me,” I announce. Her eyes go wide. “We need to talk.”
“Great!” Olivia exclaims. “Celeste, you can take the spare room.”
Celeste and Giselle both look like they want to argue but for some reason, don’t.
“Fine,” Giselle says. “Let’s go.” She gives Celeste and Olivia a hug, then, after grabbing her purse, follows me out. Once we’re in the elevator, before I can press the button to my floor, she presses the button for the ground floor.
“You agreed to come to my place. Like Olivia said, you’ve been drinking, and it’s late.” I press the button for my floor.
“I agreed because Olivia is hormonal and in denial. I didn’t want to upset her.”
I’m not sure what she means by that, but right now I need to focus on Giselle. Nick can handle his fiancée. “Well, now I’m responsible for you.” The bell dings, indicating we’ve arrived, and the doors open. Giselle crosses her arms over her chest in defiance, and I grin.
“You coming?” I ask, giving her one chance to come on her own.
“Nope.” Her lips pop at the p, and I stifle my laugh at how adorable she is when she’s been drinking.
“Fine.” I bend at the waist and throw her over my shoulder. She kicks and screams as I walk her down the hall to my condo. With one hand, I unlock my door and walk us inside. When I get to my couch, I drop her and she lands on the cushions with a huff.
“I want the truth,” I demand. “Why are you an escort?”
Giselle glares my way, her invisible shield rising to protect her. “Because I love to fuck.”
She stands and fills the gap between us. Then she runs her fingers down my chest and over my abs through my shirt. It’s been a long time since I’ve been touched by a woman and my dick instantly takes notice.
“Do you love to fuck, Kill?” She licks her lips seductively. “I can fuck you.” Her hand lands on my crotch and she squeezes my dick. A groan escapes me. “I’m good at my job.”
Her words are like ice water to a flame, knocking me out of my trance. “I don’t want or need you to fuck me,” I growl as I back up slightly. “Now, answer me. Why are you an escort?”
She flinches at my repeated question then steps forward into my personal space. “What do the other women have that I don’t?” she questions, changing the subject. “You let Tabitha fuck you. I could please you. Just ask my other clients. They all come back wanting more.” I don’t bother to tell her that Tabitha most definitely didn’t fuck me.
Giselle encircles her arms around my nape and her lips press against the side of my neck. “Let me make you feel good,” she murmurs. My eyes close as I allow her to trail soft kisses up my neck and along my jaw. When her lips press against mine, I smell the wine, reminding me she’s been drinking. I can’t let this happen. I have rules and I’m not going to break them now. Especially for a woman who is treating me like I’m a paying client.
Gently, I push her away. “Giselle, I’m not your client. Stop avoiding my question. Why are you selling your body for money?”
Her arms cross over her chest in what looks like a defensive move. “Why did you bring me up here if you don’t want to get laid?”
“I want to talk to you. Nick mentioned you’re paying for your sister’s school. Is that true?”
“Since when do you want to talk to me?” She snatches her purse off the couch. “It’s not your business what I’m paying for.”
“Wait, please.” I grab her upper arm gently but firmly to hold her in place. “How’s your mom doing?”
Giselle looks into my eyes for a beat before she lets out a deep breath. And then she shocks the shit out of me when she actually lets me in. “She’s still being evaluated. I have to go tomorrow to speak to the doctors.”
“Stay,” I say. “Not to have sex, but to talk.” I don’t know why I’m begging this woman to stay and talk. Maybe it’s because I feel like it’s possible we have something in common. We both carry secrets we aren’t proud of, secrets we can’t even tell our best friends and family.