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Grayson grinned. “Are you getting mushy on me?”
“Not likely. And for the record, my fish is bigger than yours.”
It was a good day. By the time the chartered boat got back to the marina, Nash had found a reason to smile again. It was too bad that one phone call changed all that.
He and Grayson had just climbed into his truck when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. Every muscle inside him tensed like a taut rubber band. He thought about ignoring it, but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. So he answered, his voice sounding strange even to his own ears.
“What?”
The voice that came through the receiver was definitely Eden’s, but breathier… sexier. “Meet me tonight at nine o’clock in the suite.”
As soon as Nash pulled up in front of the hotel, a valet was there to hold open his door as he got out.
“Good evening, sir,” the teenage boy said with a cocky grin on his face. Nash understood the grin when the kid palmed him a room key and winked. “I hope you enjoy your night.”
Nash frowned at the key before he pulled some money from his pocket. “Park it out front. I won’t be long.”
“Whatever you say, sir.” He hopped in the car and, with a squeal of tires, parked the truck next to the curb.
It pissed Nash off that Eden was stupid enough to involve a cocky teenager in whatever she had planned for tonight. Of course, Nash didn’t care what she had planned. His plan was to make it perfectly clear that he didn’t want to see her again. Not as a running partner. And certainly not as an escort.
Which didn’t explain why his breathing became harsh and irregular once he stepped into the suite. Or why his heart thumped loudly when he opened the door of the bedroom. Or why his cock got as hard as a piece of granite when Eden’s voice cut through the darkness.
“Come in and close the door.”
He stepped inside and turned to the shadowy figure in the corner—the same corner where he had once stood. “I’m not closing the door. And I’m not staying.”
“I guess I should’ve explained the rules a little better when I called you,” she said in the breathy, sexy voice she’d used on the phone. “No talking and do exactly what I say.”
His cock twitched with need, but he ignored it. “Cut the crap, Eden. We both know that this isn’t going to work.”
“Because I know about Melissa?”
“No. Because you’re a hooker.”
“Ouch. You’re pulling out the big guns tonight.” She moved out of the shadows and into the light that spilled in from the other room, and Nash’s irregular breath got stuck in his lungs.
Talk about pulling out the big guns. Eden was dressed to kill. At least, it was killing him. She wore lingerie from his collection. And not just any lingerie, but his favorite design: a dominatrix-style corset made of stiff red brocade and black leather. Silver studs ran along the top and bottom edges, and two silver zippers ran vertically over the cups of the bra. Hidden hooks held it together in the front, and in the back, he knew there was a crisscross of leather lacing that could be loosened or tightened at will. If Eden’s small waist and breathless speech were any indication, the lacing had been pulled tight. Which made Nash’s fingers tingle with the strong need to span the cinched area. But no more than they tingled to touch the soft flesh that swelled over the top of the corset. Lacy panties went with the outfit, but Eden had chosen to leave those off, and a tiny patch of dark hair peeked from beneath the studded leather.
Nash closed his eyes and struggled to pull air into his lungs.
“Too much?” she asked. “Then why did you send it to me?”
He opened his eyes. In the high-heeled boots she wore, her gaze was almost level with his. “My mistake,” he said.
“Really? Somehow I doubt that. I think you’re begging for something, Nash. Something you can’t ask for, but desperately need.” She lifted one booted foot and kicked the door closed, sealing the room in total darkness.
“Eden—” That was all he got out before a hand settled over his fly. She didn’t squeeze hard, just enough to get his attention. Just enough to make his body hum with desire as her breath fell hot against his ear.
“Melissa was the aggressor, wasn’t she, Nash? She was the one who asked you to prom, the one who got the hotel room, the one who seduced you.”
He tensed. “If you’re trying to make me the victim, Eden, you’re way off base. I knew what she was doing, and I should’ve put a stop to it.”
“You should’ve had control, is that it?” Her hand tightened around the hard ridge beneath his fly, and he swallowed back a moan. “Which is exactly why you hire escorts. To prove to yourself that you are in complete control. But I’ve been thinking about that. And I don’t think hiring escorts to do as you say proves anything. The real test would be if you could stay in control when you aren’t in charge.” She nipped at his earlobe, and a current of energy coursed through him like an electrical shock. “When someone else is calling all the shots.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’m not playing this game.”
Her lips brushed along a muscle in his neck. “Afraid you’ll fail?”
