“Or were you there to find yourself a rich man?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” I huffed, annoyed that he had me out to be some sort of gold-digger. First, I was a prostitute and now I was a gold-digger. “I go to art shows to meet rich men for a night of hot sex.”
“Very funny, Lola.” He chuckled and sat back.
“Do you like art?” I looked at him curiously. I assumed he did because he had been at the show, but who knew why he’d really been there. Maybe he and Max went to art shows to pick up girls. “Or were you there to find a young impressionable girl to hook up with?”
“Touché.” He laughed and then paused. “I think that art is as important as the air we breathe.”
“Oh?” I looked at him in surprise. His voice had come alive as he’d spoken about the subject.
“I don’t suppose you would understand, but many do not understand what it is to live and breathe creativity.”
“Yeah, I suppose not.” I thought about Anna and how bored she looked when I talked about Monet and his Impressionist paintings.
“I can see I’m boring you.” He jumped up from the couch. “Let us watch a movie.”
“Okay, thanks.” I peered up at him and tried to avoid staring at his lips. I wasn’t sure why I lied about loving art. It just felt too personal and too intimate of a subject to discuss. I didn’t want to find out that we had things in common. This was just supposed to be a night of fun. I didn’t want to fall for him. “I’m feeling a bit sleepy.”
“Then I shall let you sleep.” He nodded and stood, looking at me with a blank expression.
I felt oddly disappointed and bereft as he left me alone, and I lay back and looked at the ceiling, wondering what on earth I was doing. I stared around the opulent room and couldn’t quite believe where I was. I was just a regular girl from Palm Bay, Florida. I had never even been abroad before, yet here I was in London, with my best friend Anna, having the time of my life. And I had only been in London for a little over a week. Everything in my life seemed different and better, though there was still a dull ache and pain that throbbed through to the surface when it thought no one was paying attention.
I closed my eyes and tried to picture Xavier’s face. I didn’t want to think about what I had left back home; it wasn’t worth it. This was my life now—or at least it was for the next nine months. I was no longer Lola Franklin, nerd and boring girl next door. I was now Lola Franklin, ingénue and up for any and everything. Only maybe I hadn’t changed as much as I thought ... If I had, would I be sleeping on a couch in a hot guy’s hotel room? Wouldn’t I be in the bed with him? Yeah, so he was a bit of a jerk. What did that matter? Wasn’t I trying to do something different now?
“Night.” I looked at him and watched as he walked back to his bedroom. I closed my eyes and wondered what had gone so wrong so quickly. Part of me wanted to go into his room and pick up where we’d left off. The other part of me just wanted to leave and go home.
I froze as I heard Xavier’s door open and footsteps coming towards me. I counted to ten before opening my eyes, and I saw him standing by the wall watching me. I felt a bit creeped out but didn’t say anything. Finally, he walked towards me, grabbed my hands, and pulled me up off of the couch.
“Come. You must sleep in the bed. You’re my guest. I cannot have you sleeping on the couch. I will be a perfect gentleman and will not lay a finger on you.”
“Oh, no,” I stammered, blushing as my blood boiled in excitement. “There’s no need. I’ll be fine on the couch. It’s very comfortable.”
“I insist. You must sleep in the bed.” He pulled me into the bedroom with him and then picked something off the bed and handed it to me. “Put this on. It will be more comfortable to sleep in.”
“I, uh ... Thanks.” I nodded sheepishly. It was true. My skirt was feeling pretty uncomfortable. “I’ll just go change in the bathroom.”
I quickly walked into the bathroom and unfolded the t-shirt he had given me. It was big and long enough to cover my ass, but just barely. I pulled my skirt, top, and bra off and quickly pulled on the t-shirt. But then I stood there in the bathroom, unsure of what to do next. When I walked, the t-shirt rode up and showed my ass, and I realized that my ni**les were poking through the thin white top. I thought about calling out and asking him to borrow some boxer shorts, but then I giggled to myself at my thoughts. My first night as a seductress and I was asking for boxer shorts and worried that I was revealing too much.
“Be confident, Lola. Own your sexuality.” I repeated the mantra of some self-help lady who’d had a free podcast on iTunes.
I shivered as I pictured Xavier staring at me with lust as I walked back into the room. He’d be so overcome with his attraction that he would fling me onto the bed and have his wicked way with me. I smiled at the thought of him wanting me so badly that he would beg me to kiss him and touch him.
I walked back into the room, practicing the sexy and sultry walk I had seen on a YouTube video, but my hopes and dreams had been for nothing. The lights were already off and Xavier was already in bed, and from the looks of it, he was fast asleep and snoring.
I gingerly climbed into the bed, lifting the covers carefully before sliding in next to him. I snuggled into the soft pillow and stretched out my limbs as I relaxed into the luxurious sheets. I took a deep breath and delighted in the masculine smell and warmth that surrounded me. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, feeling comfortable as I snuggled up to Xavier’s back. I figured I might as well enjoy as much of him as I could.
***
I was having the most wonderful dream. Xavier was kissing me all over and feeding me grapes and strawberries from his mouth. I purred against him, and then he poured champagne in the valley between my br**sts before licking it up eagerly.
“You’re so beautiful, Lola. I am so lucky that you have given your body to me.”
“Thank you, Xavier.” I smiled up at him and closed my eyes as my toes curled in pleasure as he sucked on my ni**les.
“You have br**sts that rival the Venus de Milo. So supple and firm.” His fingers traced the curve of my br**sts as he gazed at them admiringly. “Your body is a work of art.”
“Just make love to me, Xavier,” I groaned as I felt his hardness press in between my legs.
“Beg me, my love.”
“Make love to me, Xavier,” I moaned and pulled him down to me, crying out as he entered me slowly. “Yes, yes. That’s it.”