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I chuckle.
“I’m only being honest, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous and sexy and I can’t wait to get that dress off of you later tonight.”
She titters and then does something that makes me go rigid in my chair. Looking around first to make sure no one’s watching, Lindy then lifts the fabric covering her décolletage upwards so that a big breast spills out from the cutout. In the flickering flame of the candlelight, her flesh is creamy and smooth, the nipple already pink and hard with desire.
“This is how you make me feel, Julian,” she whispers while circling the stiff tip with one finger. “You make me want it.”
Then, she lifts the big breast to her mouth and gently laps at it before giving it a good suckle. Holy shit, we’re doing this in the restaurant at Club Z, but then again, that’s the point. This is Club Z, where anything goes and where the dirtiest women perform. After finishing the deep suckle, Lindy drops her breast again, the flesh wet from her mouth, and makes to tuck it back inside the fabric. But I place one big hand on top of hers.
“No. Leave it out. Pull the other one out too.”
She titters and looks around.
“Are you sure? We have company.”
“Yes, absolutely,” I growl, my body stiff. “I want to see your breasts while enjoying my cake.”
She nods and does as I command so that both of her sweet orbs are revealed, gleaming and white in the candlelight. Then, we polish off our dessert before I sweep Lindy into my arms and up to my suite for a night of pure hedonism. After all, this woman drives me mad … and that’s exactly how I like it.
6
Lindy
* * *
I wake up to an empty bed, my heart pounding and my mouth dry. Where am I? Looking around, I see an empty space next to me, the king-size mattress bearing the imprint of a huge man.
Oh shit, I’m in Julian’s bed at the club. This is different. In general, I don’t like to stay the night because of the morning afterwards, where there are awkward interactions in addition to stilted conversation. But Julian wore me out so much that I must have fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion. Normally, I’m good at feigning sleep long enough for my client to doze off before I tiptoe out of the room, but I guess last night was an exception.
But where is he now? Somehow, I vaguely recall something about him having a meeting early this morning. Was there a shower running when I woke briefly around dawn? I can’t even remember. The whole night was filled with frenzied lovemaking, and now, I have an aching pussy for my efforts.
But if Julian wanted me gone, he’d have said something, right? He would have asked me to leave before departing this morning. As a result, my heart flutters. Julian wants me here. He wants me in his bed. The idea is so crazy, and yet so beautiful, that my heart overflows.
Going down that rabbit hole right now would be dangerous, so I climb out of bed and find one of his oversize t-shirts hanging on the back of a chair. This is perfect because I’m not ready to put on my cocktail dress from last night just yet. What the billionaire did to me both in and out of that dress is enough to make my mouth go dry again, and right now, I desperately need a cup of coffee.
Tiptoeing, I wander into the main area, which is completely still and quiet. Clearly, my man isn’t home and I gasp, taking in the sumptuous space. White leather couches decorate a giant living room, complete with fancy statuettes placed in recessed niches. There’s a full size kitchen off to the side, and I wander towards it. Blessedly, he’s got an espresso machine and automatically, I begin to prepare myself a latte. But when I turn to find milk in the fridge, my eyes spy a rose lying on the counter. Goodness, how sweet! Eagerly, I pick it up and read the note accompanying it.
* * *
Sweetheart – It was a pleasure being in your company last night, and I hated leaving you this morning. Order anything you like from room service, and I’ll see you soon.
* * *
Julian
* * *
I smile, feeling touched because Julian’s looking out for me. He wants to make sure I’m well-fed before I leave. But that’s when I see the stack of hundred-dollar bills beneath the note, and my heart sinks at the sight of the money. Oh shit. What is this?
Suddenly, my mouth goes dry because I know exactly what’s happened. Julian is paying me for my time, the way a john pays his woman. Even though I thought we shared a connection that went beyond the usual client relationship, obviously, Julian doesn’t think so. He’s paying for my body and wants to keep it that way.
