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He bites his lip and nods. “Aye. It does.”
“So, are you going to stop doing your job just because it makes me see red to think about you being dominant with a submissive under your direction?” Until this moment, it hadn’t occurred to me I might be jealous of Luke touching another woman but I am. This attraction is going to be a bigger problem than I thought.
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “No. But I can promise to amend my behavior a bit. I rarely sleep with submissives at the club anyway. Consider that off the table from now on.”
I chuckle. It’s kind of cute to see him trying to negotiate with me. But I still don’t think I can say yes to what he’s offering.
“What if I said I was OK with you still taking dates but no sex?” he asks hopefully.
I chuckle. “It doesn’t work like that. Sure, they’re paying for my time, not the sex. But I’ve built up a base of clients who want that aspect of it. If I suddenly refuse, then my income dries up.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse.”
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
“Please, Zara. I need you.”
I sigh and pull him farther into the room. “You have me for the next few days, Luke. But then you need to let me go.”
He lets go of my hand and shoves both of his in his pockets, rocking on his heels. “I’m afraid I need to extend your stay. We discussed the price already. I’ll have the money transferred in the morning.”
Chapter 16
Luke
It’sstupidofmeto be standing here begging this woman. I don’t know what’s come over me. It’s not like me at all.
But I let her pull me into her room, and I kick the door shut behind me and drop the bombshell that she has to stay another week. She doesn’t react. Simply nods and cups my face with her hands. Then I hungrily push her robe off her shoulders. “You’re so damn beautiful,” I breathe, hating how pathetic I sound. Chuck Pratchett coming into one of my places of business shook me up this afternoon, combine that with news of Oliver, and I’m way off kilter and it feels like the only thing that can set me right again is a taste of her.
“Same,” she murmurs, running her fingers through my beard with a sad smile. I know she wants me and not because I’m paying her. She’s a damn good actress, but I can still read her. She wants me and I want her and for some reason we’re denying ourselves the pleasure of having each other in the way we both want. That changes tonight.
After the news about Oliver tonight broke, it was her I wanted. I’d left her at the penthouse determined to put her out of my mind. Telling myself repeatedly that she’s dangerous. But I don’t believe that for a second. I don’t believe she’s dangerous. I believe she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Except maybe it was the wrong place at the right time. Something came alive in me when I laid eyes on her. I’ve felt dead inside for so long now. But seeing her that night in the limo was exactly what I needed and now she’s here in my arms and I’m about to make sure she gets every ounce of pleasure she deserves.
Our hands are frenzied, as if we’re trying to touch each other everywhere at once, and her little gasps when my fingers brush sensitive parts, fuel me to keep exploring. I don’t think I’ve ever loved touching a woman’s body as much as I love touching Zara’s.
She’s wearing a silk robe, and I loosen the belt and shove it off her shoulders. Underneath, she’s wearing a skintight tank and a pair of red hipster panties that hug the curve of her hips and ass perfectly. I fight the urge to bend her over the bed and spank her until she agrees to stay and be mine.
“Take off your shirt but leave the panties. Then I want you on the bed on your hands and knees. Do you have any idea how good you look in these?” I say, cupping one ass cheek in my palm.
She blushes but backs away and peels her tank off and drops it on the floor, never breaking eye contact with me.
While she’s climbing onto the bed, I rearrange some furniture so that I have something to kneel on at the side of the bed that lets me face the large closet door that has a mirror mounted on it.
“Face the mirror,” I murmur.
She does as she’s told, and we stare at each other in the mirror. I lean over her, so my chest is pressed to her back, and reach under her to cup one breast, kneading her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.
When her eyes drift closed, I pinch hard, and she cries out.
“As long as you keep your eyes open and watch, I’ll be nice. But close your eyes and things will be less pleasant until you open them again. Understood?”
“Yes, Mr. Bowden,” she says, her voice husky with lust.
“That’s a good little flower. I can’t wait to show you how gorgeous you are when you come.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone who looks as incredible as Zara does when she’s getting off. It makes me want to keep her chained to my bed where her only job is to come however often she can.
