Aaron wraps his other hand around my neck and brings his lips to my forehead. Warmth and tingles travel through me at the contact. It’s been so long since I had a touch like this—tender, gentle, almost loving—that I almost forget one of the rules of my life.
No personal feelings for clients or any of their actions.
“What are you doing?”
“After politely dismissing herself from Mr. Warner, my mother traveled across the room to Mrs. Royce. Once there, she will have proceeded to tell her the story of how we found each other again after seven long years of being apart, and isn’t it great how we’re reconnecting? And don’t we look so good together? And Mrs. Royce will have agreed and voiced how beautiful our babies would be,” he replies in a hushed tone with a hint of amusement. “And this will happen with every one of my mother’s friends throughout the night. I’m merely keeping her happy, Dayton.”
“Aaron?” An older lady approaches us, and Aaron winks at me before dropping his hands.
“Mrs. Warner. May I say how lovely you look this evening?”
“You may, but it won’t get you anywhere. Well, maybe a little.” She looks at me and winks. I smile politely.
“Mrs. Warner, this is Dayton Black, my date for this evening. Dayton, this is Mrs. Warner, my mother’s closest friend. Her husband is an investor in our company.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” I shake her hand.
“And you, my dear. Carly has told me how the two of you met. How wonderful you found each other again after all this time!”
Here we go.
***
“Is that everyone yet?” I whisper in Aaron’s ear. “I’m not sure how many more times I can listen to “How delightful you ran into each other!” and any and all variations of that sentence.”
Aaron laughs quietly into my hair. “Most, but not all.”
I groan. “How about an escape outside for five minutes?”
“I think we can manage that.” He wraps an arm around my waist and, keeping his head down, pulls me through the room to the doors. We slip out, surprisingly unnoticed, and run into the waiting elevator. Neither of us says a word until we reach the sidewalk.
I step from his hold and cross the street. The wall overlooking Elliot Bay is cold and rough when I rest my arms on it and lean forward. The cool night breeze teases through my hair, and I close my eyes into it, taking deep breaths. On nights like tonight, when so many things are expected of me, it’s hard to stay composed.
I’ll take the f**king over the escorting part of this job every time. It’s simple and I know exactly what is expected of me. It’s planned and it’s controlled. It’s in my comfort zone, but this…
Escorting is improvisation. Every word, every look, every movement. It’s all spur-of-the-moment actions and decisions. None of which I can dictate.
“Why do you do this?”
“I thought I put that in the personal box.”
“You did.” Aaron smirks in that dangerously sexy way that does stupid things to my stomach and leans against the wall next to me. “But I’m asking again.”
“I do it for the same reason other people work. I need to pay the bills.”
“Really?”
“Is it that hard to believe? Really?” I turn my face toward him. “When my parents died, I lost everything. I was at college and suddenly lost my home and all my financial support. By the time my fees were paid, there was next to no money left. I couldn’t get a job, so I went to my aunt’s old agent.”
“Monique?”
“She took me on and gave me a job. Aunt Leigh let me move in with her during breaks from school, and by the time I was twenty-one, I had enough money saved to put down the deposit on my own house.”
“Impressive. So you do it for the money?”
“Well I certainly don’t do it for the lack of f**king orgasms.”
“That bad, huh?” His smirk changes to a grin.
“Aaron, there’s no reason in the world anyone would do this job except for the money. Besides, I’m not paid to orgasm. I’m paid to make them. And occasionally, I’m paid to be a date for pretty little rich boys.” I smile back.
“Pretty little rich boys who pay more than necessary in desperation to please their parents with a beautiful girl?”
“Exactly.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re worth every cent, isn’t it?”
I stand up straight, my eyes on his. “That’s what they tell me.”
Aaron’s eyes flash with an emotion that disappears too quickly for me to register it. He holds my gaze for a long moment, seemingly looking right through me and my façade. He takes a step closer to me and holds out his arm.
“Shall we go back inside?”
“Are they likely to send out a search party?”
“I wouldn’t put it past my mother.”
I loop my arm through his, focusing both my mind and my body on the job. Not the past. Ours or otherwise.
“For the record,” he says as we walk through the lobby, “she probably thinks we sneaked off to make out like teenagers.”
“I think your mom is too excited about this totally coincidental meeting.”
“You and me both, Day. That was an impressive story you told earlier, by the way.”
“Thanks.” I reach up and fluff my hair slightly.
“What are you doing?”
“Making it look like we snuck off to make out like a couple of teenagers.” I wink and give myself a final once-over in the elevator mirror. We creep back into the ballroom and I wipe under my lip, removing a bit of imaginary smudged lipstick.
A tantalizing smile teases his lips, his eyes flicking to my mouth. He pauses for a moment and raises his thumb to my mouth, rubbing it over the same spot I just touched.
“Missed a bit,” he breathes, running it across my bottom lip. I hold my breath at the intimate touch and his eyes find mine again. “Got it.”
“Good,” I mutter.
He leads us into an empty corner, his hand firmly placed on the small of my back.
I ignore the pounding of my heart and subsequent heating of my body as he pulls me into him, pressing our sides together. “Do you think anyone noticed we disappeared?”
“Not sure.” He looks around. “But they definitely noticed we came back.”
I follow the direction of his gaze to his parents. Carly is whispering in Aaron’s dad’s ear. Brandon has a smile on his face, a mixture of amusement and pleasure that makes me bite the inside of my cheek in a reaction that is all too genuine.