Billionaire's Escort - Page 10

I threw on a pair of jeans and a tight gray shirt, then laid on my bed. I shouldn’t be doing this. I knew that I had a problem, but I was too far gone to stop. I’d have to live with my curse and try to manage it as best as I could.

I sat up. I couldn’t allow myself to go to a dark place. Plenty of men had regular encounters. That was to be expected. I was no different. If I started questioning myself, I’d just end up getting worse. Sexuality wasn’t something that could be suppressed. It wouldn’t go away. It would just keep building up until I couldn’t take it any longer. I had to maintain some level of sanity.

I couldn’t lay back down again. When I did, my cock pressed up against my pants. This was worse than usual, but it wasn’t the first time I felt this way. I just had to be careful and redirect my thoughts as best as I could, but I couldn’t help it.

I wasn’t the kind of guy that got obsessed over women. I wasn’t sure I even knew what it meant to be infatuated with somebody. Usually, I lost interest after the first night. There were a few times when things would last a week or two, but it was never anything but sex.

I had to get my head right. If I kept thinking about the girl I saw downtown, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself when Tony’s girl got here. I decided to go downstairs and turn on the TV, hoping that I could find something that would distract me from what I really wanted.

I thought about canceling my appointment. That was probably the smart thing to do. I didn’t want to spend all night comparing Tony’s girl to the girl of my dreams. The two would never match up. I wouldn’t even be able to get it up, and when I finally did come, it wouldn’t be satisfying. I’d just want more.

But I was too far gone. It was getting close to 6, and if I didn’t get it soon, I was going to have to take another shower. The doorbell rang, and my stomach sank. She wasn’t going to match up. I was horny now, but I knew that the second I saw the girl, I’d end up going limp. She wouldn’t be the one that I wanted.

I checked the mirror before I opened the door. I looked great, but what was the point? This was a business transaction. It was empty and cold, with no more significance than a handshake. A part of me hated myself for doing this. Why couldn’t I be normal? I shook my face and pinched my arm. I couldn’t think like this.

When I opened the door, the first thing I saw were legs: nothing but long, beautiful legs, and a pair of denim shorts so tight I could see her cheeks peeking out from the frayed hems. Then, I saw her face, my cock jumped, and I had to lean against the doorframe. The girl from downtown was staring at me, holding an empty package over her chest, as if she were trying to hide her boobs.

“Sexy package delivery,” she said, her voice anything but enthusiastic.

“Thank you.” I grabbed it away from her.

She stared down at the ground. Her cheeks were bright red. “Did you want me to open it for you?”

I tried to keep from laughing. “This is your first day, isn’t it?”

“I—is it that obvious?” She seemed to deflate.

“No, I just have an eye for those sorts of things.”

“You’re just being nice. I’m terrible at this.”

“You’re not that bad.” I moved closer, hoping to get under her skin.

I could tell by the way she stepped back that it was working. “Here.” She thrust the package into my arms.

“Aren’t you going to open it for me?”

She grabbed it back and started to pull on the tape, but she couldn’t get a good grasp on it. “I hate these things.”

“It’s fine. Come inside. Take a load off.”

“All right.” She stomped past me and stopped as soon as her feet touched the marble. “Oh my God. That thug wasn’t lying. You are a high roller.”

“I try.” I motioned for her to follow me into the living room where I’d set up a cart in the corner with a crystal decanter of aged whiskey. “Would you like a drink?” I asked.

She sat down on my black leather sectional in the center of the room. “No, thank you. I still have to drive.”

I took a shot to ease my nerves and sat down on the other side of the couch. She was looking around, up at the ceiling, at the art on the walls, anywhere but at me. I could tell I made her uncomfortable. I made a lot of girls uncomfortable, but I usually didn’t care how they felt. This was different.

I tried to think of something to say to ease her tensions. “Am I your first customer?”

She nodded but said nothing.

“Is it kind of weird doing this?”

She shrugged.

“Are you sure you don’t want a drink?

Tags: Claire Adams Billionaire Romance
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