The suite door closes. “Dayton?”
“In the bedroom.” My cheeks flush. This is the first time we’ve spoken since we left Vegas—since he pinned me against a glass wall and f**ked me with his fingers until I came spectacularly. We both slept during the flight and he left early this morning while I was still in bed.
My skin hums with awareness when he walks into the room, and a low, appreciative chuckle leaves him.
“Not what I was expecting to see, but welcome all the same.”
I flip him the bird over my shoulder. “I have nothing to wear.”
“You’re standing in front of three suitcases. How can you have nothing to wear?”
“I didn’t pack for a trip to the surface of the sun.”
Aaron unzips his own suitcase on the other side of the room, and I hear the swish of material as he changes. “It’s not that hot.”
“Are you kidding me?” I spin. And stop dead at the sight of him.
He’s wearing a white polo shirt that stretches across his shoulders and hugs his torso like a second skin, and his shorts hang just below his knees. There’s even a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his head, and I can’t help the way my eyes travel over his body. From his head to his toes, I appraise him. Heat floods my body when I catch sight of his fingers on his hips, remembering them inside me last night.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he warns, his eyes hot and heavy and lidded. They hold me captive, turning the heat spreading through my body up a notch.
I straighten. “Like what?”
“Like there’s nothing you’d rather do right now than rip these clothes off me and f**k me.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m thinking.”
He smirks and moves to me. “No you’re not. You’re remembering the feel of my fingers inside you last night.” Those same fingers tease the hem of my panties. “You’re remembering how easily I made you come all over them.”
I exhale loudly and knock his hand away. “Stop playing with me, Aaron. I’m not a toy.”
“Actually…” He trails his hand up my body and cups my chin. “You’re whatever I want you to be, remember? I just have more respect than to treat you like a toy. I told you last night. I don’t play. Whether that be with fire or games. I’m not the one hiding my desire behind a thick wall of defiance.”
“Hiding my desire? I think you found it last night, don’t you?”
He tilts my face back, his lips curving deliciously. “For a second, until you locked it away again.”
I step back and turn to my suitcase. “If you’re going to f**k me, just do it. It’s part of what you pay for.”
“If you’re going to let me f**k you, just do it. And again—I don’t give a shit what I pay for. When I f**k you, it’ll be because you need it so badly you won’t be able to breathe. When I f**k you, it’ll be because you’ll feel like you’ll die if you don’t have me inside you. I won’t be taking you to bed just because I pay for it.”
I grab a dress and ignore him. My core is aching too much to respond, because if I do, it’ll be to beg for that f**k.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“Where?”
“To buy you something suitable for a week on the surface of the sun, Bambi.” He walks through the door, and I throw my hairbrush after him.
“Stop calling me that!”
***
Aaron reaches across the table and threads his fingers through mine. I look at our hands. Large and small, two different shades of tan, linked together and held there by his tight grip. His tan is likely more natural than mine. I can’t imagine Aaron Stone lying on a tanning bed for ten minutes twice a week.
He rubs his thumb across the back of my hand. “So. Dot com work, huh? How’s that working for you?”
I bite the inside of my cheek and gaze at the harbor through the café’s window. “Shut up.”
“I’ve heard it can be a lucrative business.”
“Aaron.”
“Particularly with the e-book boom lately. How have you managed to take time off?”
I look at him, unable to hide the stupid grin on my face. “Shut up.”
“That’s what I was going for.” He returns my smile. “Seriously, dot com? That was the best you had?”
“I was put on the spot! It was the first thing I thought of.”
“You realize they’ll try to look you up, don’t you?”
“Then they’ll find themselves incredibly surprised if they happen to come across Monique’s website.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “There’s a website?”
“Why? Wishing you’d thought to try before you bought?”
“No. I’m thinking I’m not a fan of your picture on there for the world to see.”
“It’s pixelated. You can’t tell it’s me.”
“I’d know your face anywhere.”
“It’s good you didn’t go on the website then, isn’t it?” I tap the back of his hand with my fingers. “How did you get her number?”
“A friend of mine has used her…services…before.”
“This could get awkward very quickly,” I mutter.
“Not you. He said he saw Shelly or someone.” He pauses, and I nod. “I had no idea who I was booking when she gave me your name.”
I smile wryly. “That’s the reason we have two. Working with people you know is off-limits and not something that’s ever happened to me. But it did to another girl. She was due to meet him for an evening function but he was the brother of a high school friend. Monique had to send another girl out pronto.”
“You all grew up in Seattle? Isn’t that risky if you don’t want to be found out?”
“The risk is…well, irrelevant. It doesn’t matter where you do it, there will always be the chance you’ll run into someone you know. It’s why there’s always one or two of us off. We’re always ready to jump in for another girl.”
“Or for calls like mine.”
“Or for late calls, yes. I happened to be the lucky one that night.” I roll my eyes.
“Hey.” He tugs on my hand and I lean across the table. His thumb teases across my bottom lip and he keeps his eyes firmly there. “No luckier than I was when it was you who walked into the booth.”