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But now, the rays of sunlight grow more insistent, pulling me into the present. Slowly, my eyes blink open, and to my surprise, I see Brent’s enormous form sleeping beside me. White satin sheets drape over his lean physique and are almost transparent above his bronzed skin. His broad chest rises and falls in slow breaths, and that handsome face relaxes in slumber. Wow. After all this time, the escort agency finally sent me a good one.
But ironically, now my time as a City Girl is over. As much as I’d like to stay, I’ve already chosen a new path. In fact, the lease is already signed for my new candy store, and inventory is already beginning to come in. There’s no time to waste. I need to make my getaway.
Carefully, I slink out from under the covers and tip toe across the room. My clothing is scattered all over the bedroom and I hurry to collect it before Brent wakes up and catches me sneaking out. I spot my lace panties on the floor next to the desk and lunge for them. But that’s when I miscalculate. Being still a little dazed and sleepy, I lose my footing and whack my shin against a nearby desk leg, causing a loud thud. Oh shit! My body seizes, going quiet as a mouse.
But it’s too late. As I turn, Brent is already beginning to stir. He raises himself to one elbow and then props himself up on the pillows, those blue eyes still blinking sleepily.
“Good morning, beautiful. Were you trying to sneak out without saying goodbye?” he asks while stifling a yawn. Wow, he’s massive as his arms reach out, those biceps bulging in a stretch. Meanwhile, I feel my cheeks turn red. I’m an escort for Christ’s sake and this wasn’t a real one-night stand! There’s no reason to feel embarrassed. Yet, I certainly do.
“I- Well, you…. It’s early and…” I stammer in a panic. Brent simply smiles at me and pats the mattress next to him, gesturing for me to return to bed.
“Come on, you look cold, honey. Come back to bed for a little while,” he urges. I pause. Should I? But he looks so big and handsome waiting there, and before I know it, I’ve climbed into bed to cuddle in those strong arms. It’s so warm and his big body feels nice pressed up against mine.
“So how are you feeling?” he murmurs into my ear.
I blush and smile a bit.
“Sore and achy, but good,” I say. “It’s to be expected.”
He tosses his dark head back and laugh.
“Sore, where?”
“Where do you think?” I ask saucily.
“Here,” he says, sliding one hand down to cup my pussy. “And here too?” he asks, sliding even further between my legs to gently tickle my back hole.
I squeal, cheeks flushing hot.
“Yes, both places,” I whisper. “You used me hard last night.”
One dark eyebrow quirks.
“But you liked it, right?” he rasps.
Oh my god, my cheeks are burning up now as I nod wordlessly.
“Good,” he chuckles while giving my ass a squeeze. “That’s what I like to hear.”
I figure we’ll maybe kiss and make love again before going our separate ways but to my surprise, Brent pulls away for a moment, his blue eyes dancing.
“I have something I want to ask you,” he begins.
“Oh really?” I say, brows arched.
“Yes, really,” he laughs. “You see, last night turned out better than I thought it would. Far better, as a matter of fact.”
“It was good for me too,” I admit in a soft voice.
“I know,” he says with a devilish gleam to his eyes. “But I think we can help each other, Sansa,” he says. My brows knit in confusion.
“Help? How so?”
He shrugs.
“Honestly, I don’t usually use escorts, but last night was an aberration because I was looking for something very specific.”
I purse my lips.
“All my clients say they don’t usually hire escorts, but I know the truth. It’s a regular thing for most men with City Girls,” I say in a dry tone. Brent nods.
“Yeah, I totally get it. But again, I’m not a man who generally needs to pay for sex, but in this case, I’m looking for a specific woman. A woman just like you, in fact.”
Now he has me intrigued and I cock my head to one side.
“Do you mean sexually? Are you looking for a particular kink …?” Brent promptly cuts me off.
“No, no weird kinks. At least not psycho ones, although if you want to get into that, we can,” he laughs. “Last night was perfect because honey, you’re gorgeous, classy, witty, sophisticated, and an animal in bed too. What I need, specifically, is a fake fiancée, and I think you’re a fit.” He sits still, waiting for my reaction as I stare back in shock.
“A fake fiancée?” I clarify, my voice climbing in octaves word by precarious word.
