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To my horror, Gio follows. He strolls from the shower, out of the bathroom, and into the living area. His reflection shows up in the glass without a stitch of modesty. He hasn’t even put atowelon! How am I supposed to think logically with that thing swinging at me?
I glance at him from over my shoulder. His dick practically touches the floor with its damn monstrous length.
“Gio,” I groan, snapping my eyes shut. “Can you…uh, put a towel or pants or…?”
“What’s the matter? You’ve never seen a cock before?”
He’s toying with me! The humor is threaded in that normally smooth, hard voice of his. He sees how flustered I am, and he’s loving every freaking minute of it. If only I can stop being so frazzled over a hot, Italian sculpture of a man, and think straight.
I’ve seen Enzo naked a thousand times. Plenty of other men before Enzo. None of them have ever had this effect on me. It’s like fear has gripped me. An intense and scary feeling that’s holding me tight because it knows the second it lets me go, I’m a goner.
It’s beyond lust. It’s a carnal, primitive need to surrender myself to this man. Thiskiller.
And for him to do with me as he wants. For him to wreck me,destroyme for the night. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m practically leaking, I’m so wet. Both my inner and outer folds are a slippery mess. I can feel how slick I am for every step I take. Even as I stand still by the window. My pussy is pulsating, throbbing as fast as the heart in my chest. The aching need becomes so strong it’s painful.
“Are you going to join me?” he asks.
“Are you going to put a towel on?”
He chuckles. It’s a rich and smooth sound, much like the cognac he smells of. “For being a stripper and an escort, you’re a little bit prude.”
“I’mnota prude!” I snap, folding my arms indignantly. “Did you forget I just showed you my tits, like, twenty minutes ago?”
“I saw them—beautiful. I also saw everything else on stage. But now you’re uncomfortable. Seeing me like this makes you blush. You may think you’re fooling me, but I can see the glow on your skin.” He starts toward me, slow and purposeful, giving me enough time to move if I wish. But I don’t. Because my brain is blank. So much for my sexy femme fatale plan. Once within reach, he touches my cheek.
His hand travels lower, down the arc of my throat. His fingers brush my collarbone. His gaze is on my chest, as if seeing through me.Insideof me.
A tingle shocks its way down my spine.
I step back. “If we’re going to complete the transaction, then fine. But only hand and blow jobs are on the table. You have to wear a condom. I don’t do gagging. And I will not lick your hairy balls.”
He glances down at his package, then looks up at me with a brow raised. “This is what you call hairy balls?”
It’s true Gio is trimmed and neater than most guys. Actually, it’s obvious he takes great care of his physique and hygiene. I’m bullshitting, looking for stupid reasons to make this encounter as unpleasant as possible for him.
Because I’m stubborn and I refuse to give in to the desire threatening to consume me.
I swallow hard and drop to my knees. “I hope you like teeth.”
His gaze holds mine, him standing above me. His dick inches from my face. He laughs and shakes his head. “Is that a threat, Falynn? You’re going to bite my cock off?”
Before I can answer, he turns and walks away, his laughter still alive. I watch him go, on my knees, noting how even his ass is a well-defined curve of muscle.
As the water starts again in the shower, I release a frustrated growl. I’ve got to do better. I’vegotto step my game up.
Gio lets me have the bed. I hold on for as long as I can, but as dawn bleeds onto the sky and the sun rises, exhaustion claims me. I end up falling asleep staging a protest in an armchair only to wake as he lifts me into his arms and places me onto the bed.
My heart panics into a quicker beat until I realize he’s putting me to bed without the intention of lying with me. Too drowsy to fight off sleep, I drift off seconds later.
I wake up to find I’m alone. It’s 10 a.m. and the TV is playingThe Price Is Right. For a moment I lie still in the gigantic king-size bed and squint around the equally gigantic suite bedroom. The events of last night trickle in. I spring up with my face in my hands.
If it were possible, I’d pretend it hadn’t happened. I’d act like I never met Gio and his henchmen. I definitely never saw them haul Jerry out of his office rolled up in an ugly carpet rug. I could go back to life before last night’s shift at the Dollhouse. Pretend I’m not being held captive.
With a groan, I lift my face and notice a wicker basket at the foot of the humongous bed. I scramble over on my hands and knees and dump the basket upside down. Neatly folded clothes spill out along with bottles of shampoo, conditioner, all kinds of makeup. Hell, eventampons.
I snort out a laugh. It’s a basket left for me, including any feminine product I might need at the moment.
