I lick my lips, nervous at the thought of what I’m about to do. He thinks you’re a prostitute! An inner voice of reason screams at me, but I don’t listen. I can only feel the growing excitement in the pit of my stomach, and the aching need in my body.
“I’m fine,” I tell him, venturing a small smile. “I just drank it too fast, but I’m fine.”
“Good.” His fingers are still around mine, and I wonder if he can tell that my heart is beating like a freaking drum. I’m going to sleep with this stranger, I think almost incredulously. I’m going to let him fuck me any way he wa
nts because he thinks he’s paid for that right, and I’m going to enjoy every minute of it.
He takes the water from me and sets it on the coffee table, his eyes never leaving mine. Suddenly, it’s hard to breathe. Why am I doing this? I could tell him he made a mistake and walk out of here. I could tell him that the hooker his brother sent is probably still on her way. I could go home to my empty bed, and spend the rest of the night crying over Jack…
…or I can just let him fulfill the promise of toe-curling sex I can see clearly in his eyes.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Rachel.” My voice is barely more than a whisper.
“I’m Landon.”
I’m doing this, I decide resolutely, smiling at him. What happens now? I wonder. How do we go from exchanging names to entwined bodies and clawing sheets?
“Did Aidan tell you it was my birthday?”
Who…? “Yes,” I lie, guessing that Aidan is probably the brother.
He nods. “What are your rates?”
For a moment, I have no idea what to say. “It’s already been taken care of...” I murmur.
“Of course, but tell me anyway.”
I pick a number off the top of my head that I think is exorbitant enough for a high-class hooker.
He looks impressed. “My brother is being very generous,” he says with a small chuckle. He studies me for a moment. “So…what do I get for that?”
I pause. “The whole night.”
“Anything I want?”
I take a lungful of air, pushing the small sliver of panic out of my mind. “Anything you want,” I whisper.
His lips quirk. “Follow me,” he says, getting up from the sofa.
He leads me out of the living room into a wide hallway, then up a flight of stairs to the upper floor. He walks gracefully, his obvious strength held firmly under control. He moves quickly too, so I don’t have time to admire the apartment, or do more than be awed by the sheer size.
Upstairs, he opens the door to a large bedroom with soft grayish walls, large windows half hidden by long, heavy-looking curtains, and a perfectly made bed. A light from the bedside lamp on one of the nightstands casts a soft glow around the room, giving it an intimate ambiance. There’s a lounge chair close to the windows, a writing desk and chair, and closer to the bed, there’s a soft looking armchair. I step inside the room, and Landon closes the door behind us.
“You have condoms?” he asks.
It’s really not a question. What self-respecting hooker wouldn’t have condoms? I start to panic, then I remember Laurie’s present. Thank the stars for Laurie, I think silently, opening my purse to retrieve the roll of condoms, before handing them to him.
He takes them, tossing them on the edge of the bed before going to sit on the armchair. I’m still standing by the door, and he motions for me to come farther into the room.
I walk towards him, suddenly very nervous. There’s something incredibly sexy about the way he’s leaning back on the chair with his body relaxed, and his long legs splayed out.
He raises a hand to stop me before I get to him. “Take off your clothes,” he says.
My fingers are trembling. Why are my fingers trembling? It’s been a while, but it’s not as if I’m inexperienced. I fumble with my zipper, trying clumsily to get it to go down. Finally, the dress falls down at my feet, and I’m standing in front of this sexy man dressed only in high heels, and my black lace panties and bra.
His face is unreadable. What should I do now? Go to him? Remain standing and wait for him to come and take what, as far as he knows, has been paid for? While all the thoughts are running through my mind, he arches a brow at me.