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“I wore a white bikini with high heeled sandals,” I said dryly, knowing exactly what she was getting at. “I know how to do my job.”
Her head fell back briefly as she grumbled, “Of course, you do. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I’m just being sensitive.”
“Is he—nice to you?” she asked in a tiny voice. “Does he treat you well?”
My shoulders slumped and I felt a smile cross my face. “He treats me too well, Giselle.” And so far, that had been the absolute truth.
She grinned back at me. “That’s good. What are you going to do about the no sex thing, though?”
I rose up and leaned my head in my hand—elbow digging into my pillow. “I wish I knew.”
An hour ago,Nick had called while I was still chatting with Giselle. I’d quickly let her go to answer him.
His voice had been deep and delicious, and I found myself clenching my legs together while I spoke to him.
“How are you?” he asked, and it made me smile.
“Good, but I miss you,” I said, my voice sounding almost husky to my ears. “Are you coming back soon?”
“I’ll be home in an hour. I want you to decide what we’re doing.”
I frowned and asked, “What do you mean?”
He cleared his throat. “Decide where you want to go.”
“I—I want to do whatever makes you happy,” I said, feeling more than a little confused by his instructions.
“It will make me happy if we do whatyouwant. What would your perfect day look like?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. “Think about it. I’ll be home soon.” Then he clicked off without saying goodbye.
After that, I rushed into the shower and brainstormed where the heck I was going to take Nick.
My mind raced with different ideas—none of which I figured Nick would want to do in the slightest.
I mean, the guy was loaded.
More than loaded.
Plus, he was years older than me.
What could we possibly have in common?
I didn’t want to bore him to death with the things that interested me.
He was my client, and I wanted to keep him happy. Yes, he’d hired me for a month, but I was hoping that after the month was over, he’d still be a regular customer.
After all, he paid well—and he tipped even better.
And the orgasms he’d given me were—beyond anything I’d ever had before.
Yes, I’d slept with many men as part of my job.
But none of them made me come.
I faked it anyway, of course.
Men liked to feel powerful.
