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I'm on thin ice, but I can't break now. He’s trying to get me to confess, to quit. If he finds out I’m new to this, if he’s toying with me only to replace me later, that would be a severeblow. The best way for me to stay in control is to simply not respond to his question.
For my brother, for the life I'm clawing at, I have to be more than just Robin Freeman, the girl who has never had a serious relationship, let alone been in a man’s bed. I have to be a siren who lures this handsome man into believing in the fantasy, just for tonight. I become excited at the thought of luring him in, not just because I need this job, but because I want to show myself I can.
My pulse hammers a wild rhythm as I step closer and trace my finger up his arm. I exhale slowly, blowing a stream of air across his cheeks. The dimly lit room feels strangely intimate as I begin moving with a new rhythm, a dance of seduction that I never imagined myself capable of. Closing the space between us to mere centimeters, I start grinding gently against him, and a shiver goes down my spine when his hands inch closer and find a gentle grip on my hips.
I like this. The realization is new and exciting. Of all the things, I didn’t believe I would like this. As I sway to the soft music seeping in through the doors, I steal a glance at his face—the sharp lines of his jaw, the daggered lines across his forehead. He looks… older.
In one fell swoop, I drop my ass on his lap before rising to my feet again. I hear him moan a little, and I smile, a thrill going down my spine.
Seeing that I got him to crack makes me want more of him. "Alright, Mr. Hotshot. For the sake of honesty. What's your story then?" My tone carries a playful edge. "Sitting here all by yourself, blindfolded in a den of sin… it does make a girl wonder."
His hands rest casually on my hips, betraying nothing of his thoughts. "My brothers, they have a twisted sense of humor.Decided a man should know the embrace of a stranger on his birthday."
"Your birthday?" I stop in my tracks and stand, my ploy forgotten momentarily. "This is their idea of a gift?"
"Seems so," he replies, the resignation in his tone laced with a hint of fondness. "Family traditions. They can be... peculiar, especially in mine."
"Sounds like quite the party," I say, tilting my head, my curiosity getting the better of me. "You don't sound too thrilled, though."
"Thrilled is not the word I'd use," he admits, shifting slightly in his seat. "But it's the thought that counts, isn't it? Besides, it’s not every day you get serenaded by a voice as intriguing as yours."
"Flattery will get you nowhere," I retort, although my cheeks betray me, warming despite my best efforts. He likes my voice! The realization makes me feel like I’m riding a wave of success, and I want to see how much further I can take this.
"Maybe not," he concedes, "but honesty might. You've got nerve, I'll give you that. Most wouldn't dare to speak so freely. Especially not on their first night."
"Most aren't trying to pay off a family debt with the clock ticking," I reply before I can stop myself, the words slipping out in a rare moment of candor.
There’s an awkward silence that fills the room between us.
"Ah," he says, a note of understanding coloring his tone. "The stakes are high then."
“They are,” I admit, overwhelmed with everything that’s happened to bring me here. Before I can think, I begin to spill the truth, potentially jeopardizing my one shot to seduce him. It’s like my tongue has a mind of its own. “You see, I've got a littlebrother, Adam. He means the world to me, and we’re sort of stuck with an uncle who... let's just say he's no Prince Charming. I'd do anything for Adam. He's smart, you know? Deserves better than what life's given him."
"Sounds like a good kid," he says, and I can tell he means it.
"He is. I’d do anything for him. This isn’t an ideal situation, but I’m not ashamed of the work." A lump forms in my throat, and I force it down with a hard swallow. "So, that's why I'm here, trying my goddamn best to not mess this up.”
I shuffle my weight from one foot to the other, the silk of my stockings making a gentle sound. There’s an awkward lull, a silence that remains between us. The thing is, in all totality, I, Robin Freeman, simply don’t know how to proceed from this point on. This man, whoever he is, is probably annoyed that his brothers spent thousands on a private room, only for him to end up with a slobbering mess.
I sigh, push my hair behind my ears, and stare at my feet, ashamed at having disappointed Adam and ashamed at having embarrassed myself in front of who happens to be the first man to thrill me in this way.
"Look, I didn't mean to unload all this on you," I blurt out, heart kicking against my ribs like it wants out. "It's just… you seem different than what I expected. And now I've probably killed whatever mood you were in, huh?"
A silence stretches between us, taut like a wire ready to snap. My stomach churns, every second dragging out into an eternity. I blew it. This is the one chance I had to clear the debt, and I've turned it into a therapy session.
"Damn," I mutter under my breath, bracing myself for the brush-off, for the cold dismissal that's sure to come.
"Robin," he finally says, and I brace for the worst. But instead of dismissal, there's a note of interest laced with something like respect. "You're full of surprises, aren't you? Continue, please. I find myself... intrigued by your performance."
My head snaps up, and I blink in surprise. Is he serious? Does he actually want me to keep going after that emotional dump truck I just unloaded on him? My heart pounds with a mix of anxiety and hope.
"Really?" I ask, my voice betraying a flicker of disbelief.
"Absolutely. Plus, you have nothing to worry about. I doubt any performance of this nature, whether it’s you or someone else, would have an effect on me," there's the subtlest edge of a challenge in his tone.
The thing is, I’m drawn to this challenge. I’ve never seduced a man. He claims that no woman in this room could turn him on.
“Is that so?” I ask, a quiet confidence rising in my bones. “I guess we’ll just have to see now, won’t we?”
