Page 5 of Own Me


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But Giovanni is grinning at me, and I can’t think about anything else. Like normalcy. Or sane responses to your escort client showing up at your day job after probably stalking you.

“I just wanted a coffee,” he replies. Then he steps closer to the counter, lowers his voice so that Diana won’t be able to hear him over the running water in the sink. “But now I want so much more,” he whispers.

I glance past him, at Diana. She’s watching us out of the corner of her eye, trying to pretend she’s not. Yet I can tell she’s curious about this handsome, sexy stranger in our closed coffee shop. She’s probably wondering why I’m not telling him to go stuff himself like I usually do when guys hit on me at work.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “Not like this. Not now.”

His gaze drops to my chest, heaving beneath my tight work shirt. When his eyes flash back to mine, there’s a hunger in them so physical that I swear I can feel it. “Fifteen minutes. Parking lot across the street. I need to have you.” With that, he slaps a bill on the counter and scoops up his coffee, sweeping out of the shop before I can muster a response.

And before I can gape at the money he left behind. A Franklin. Right. Like that’s inconspicuous.

I stand there gaping after him for long enough that Diana steps up beside me, a concerned look on her face.

“Creeper?” she asks, tilting her head worriedly. “I can go slash his tires if you want.”

I laugh, then shake my head, snapping myself out of it, sliding the $100 bill off the counter and cupping it in my palm, hiding it from her. “Nah. Not creepy. Just too damn hot.”

She smirks. “I’ll say. Did you get his number?”

I laugh again, louder. “Sadly, no.” I haven’t, actually. The only communication we have is through the website we met on. I don’t even know his last name, and he doesn’t know mine.

But he had a point about my first name. We live in a relatively small town–it probably wasn’t hard to find the Facebook profile of the only Corbella who lives here, and then look at her employment section to see where she worked.

Maybe I should try searching Giovanni sometime…

“Here,” I add, passing Diana the tip jar. Inside is $2.61 in change, along with the $100 bill Giovanni just left me. By the time she notices the latter, I’ll be out of here. Hopefully she’ll just chalk it up to some random person having way too big a heart today, like in those feel-good Facebook posts. “Your share of our tips for the day. God bless our generous clientele.”

She rolls her eyes and accepts the tip jar without looking inside. “Cheap bastards. You’d think none of them ever had to work for a living or something.”

I should be annoyed by Giovanni. Maybe even a little unnerved. He came here looking for me, after all. Which means he looked into where I work, and tried on purpose to find me. What does that mean?

He’s been thinking about me, too.

And however insane or idiotic it might be to get turned on by that idea–especially when it comes to a client, someone I’m supposed to be keeping a business relationship with–I can’t help it. I love that he couldn’t get me out of his head either. So much so that he needed to come and see me again, way sooner than we’d planned.

This is crazy. Part of me knows that. It’s not how clients and escorts should act. But nothing about the orgasms he gave me last night was normal either. And the growing ache between my legs is in control now, not my brain.

The lines are blurring so fast with Giovanni…

“Earth to Corbella,” Diana is saying. I zone back in to find her watching me, eyebrow cocked, one hand on her hip.

“Huh?”

“I said, we’re done. Do you want to head out? I’ll finish the last dishes.” She’s grinning, a little sly and teasing. “You look like you’ve got somewhere you want to be.”

My face flushes again. Parking lot. Fifteen minutes. “I can stay,” I protest, not wanting to give myself away.

But Diana has known me way too long to fall for that. She rolls her eyes. “Go on. Go enjoy your date with your new mystery boyfriend.”

I groan. “There’s no mystery boyfriend!” But I pick up my bag anyway, shrugging it onto my shoulder. Because if she’s giving me this out, then I’ll definitely take it.

“Whatever. Have fun!” She throws me a wink and a wave, then heads into the back to finish the last closing tasks. I linger in the doorway for a moment, feeling vaguely guilty–after everything Diana has done for me, should I really let her take on all the closing work alone?

But my raging libido gets the better of me. I mentally promise to pick up an extra shift for her next week, and head out of the café. I don’t walk directly across the street, just in case someone’s watching. I zig-zag across the road, my eyes locked on the parking lot the whole while. There are only a few cars but Giovanni’s is easy to pick out. It’s bright red, a Ferrari I realize when I walk a little closer, and it’s every inch as sexy as him.

I could turn around. I could go home now. I don’t need to see him today–I don’t need to see him ever again if I don’t want to. His $3,000 payment showed up in my bank account first thing this morning, just like he promised, payment to keep me for himself, to reserve me from any other clients. But he can’t actually stop me from seeing anyone else. He can’t make me meet him now, either. We didn’t agree on it; there’s nothing he could do if I just walked away.

But I don’t want to do that.

I open the passenger side door and slide in next to him. The moment hi dark eyes latch onto mine, a little curl of tension in my stomach unfurls, like getting a knot in your back kneaded out during a good massage. All nervousness floods out of me, replaced instead by pure lust. The car smells amazing, a combination of leather seats and his pine-scented cologne, and him underneath it all, the scent I can’t get out of my memory, ever since last night when I felt wrapped in it.

I want him.

Neither of us move for a second, both watching one another, waiting, appraising. And then something clicks in my brain.

Fuck it.

I lean across the gearshift and kiss him. Soft, tentative. Just enough to feel his lips meld to mine, his stubble brush my cheek, his hot breath skittering over my skin as he lets out a faint surprised huff.

Then I pull away, lean back in my seat, and catch his gaze once more. His eyebrows have drawn together across his forehead, confused, though not offended. More just surprised. As if he’s thinking the same thing that I am right now.

What have I just gotten myself into?

Then, without warning, he reaches across the shift to wrap his arm around my waist. His lips crash into mine again, harder this time, a rough, hungry kiss. I drink him in, part my lips to let his tongue explore my mouth, even as his hands fold around my waist. His hands are so big they almost fit around my waist entirely, and I feel warm and safe, folded up in him.

He tilts his head and I lean with him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, burying one hand in his hair and clenching my fist. He mirrors me, pulling just hard enough that I feel it against my scalp, a faint sting of pain coupled with the pleasure of his kiss.

Like everything else, he is dangerously good at kissing…

His hands slide up from my waist to wrap around my breasts and I let out a soft groan, melting against his muscular chest. That’s when he draws back, his lips still caressing my neck.

“Corbella.”

I freeze. He’s got that commanding sound to his voice again, the one he gets just before he gives me an order. My whole body tenses in anticipation, wondering what he has in store next, what he’ll ask me to do. It’s thrilling, surrendering control to him like this, letting him take charge of my body.

“Undo my belt.”

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