La Donna Dolce

Chapter One

JC Chasez sat heavily on the edge of the bed, barely able to keep his eyes open. The sun was slowly rising over the high-rises of steel and glass that made up the Manhattan skyline, but he was unimpressed. Dragging himself up again, he walked over to the curtains and with a sharp yank, closed the blinds until there was total, blissful darkness.

He hated red eye flights, but that night had been especially trying. He had been stuck on the plane next to a fan who had insisted on pelting him with questions throughout the entire seven-hour flight from Los Angeles to New York City. Normally, JC wasn’t accommodating, but the young woman had gorgeous tits and a mouth that he could imagine doing very kinky things to, so he had been friendly.

Four hours in, when she mentioned her husband and his eyes wrenched from her breasts long enough to notice the ring on her finger, JC realized, to his horror, that he was four hours into a conversation with someone he couldn’t escape from. He was stuck answering questions about his past with no hope of a happy ending.

Admittedly, it was first class. But he could definitely think of better situations to be in.

Walking back toward the bed, JC paused to pick up the plastic bag he had thrown on the hotel room desk earlier. Pulling out a package to a disposable, pay-as-you-go cell phone, he smiled to himself. Trips to New York usually meant a whirlwind of publicity junkets and other aspects of business that he hated, and he used to dread the circus. It wasn’t until a quiet conversation with a close friend had introduced him to a discreet telephone number that he started to appreciate an aspect of travel he hadn’t experienced before.

That had been three years earlier. Now, after plugging in the cell phone, he dug into his wallet for the small platinum card that held phone and membership identification numbers. He tossed it on the desk next to the phone and went to take a shower.

~ * ~

“Do you really have to go?”

“You know I do, love.”

“When will I see you again?”

Kit gave a sweet, noncommittal smile as she smoothed down the front of her trousers. The sun had risen over the Manhattan skyline and she was running late. She didn’t have time for the pillow talk that this particular conquest enjoyed so much, but he was a decent lover and an excellent tipper so she made nice as much as she could when in the back of her mind she knew she was going to get an earful about her tardiness.

“You take care of yourself, darling. You know I hate it when I see you so tense,” she said, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before moving to get her purse.

“Bye,” she heard him say as she sailed out of the door.

Kit sighed as she waited for the elevator, taking the opportunity to fix her hair. The client she had been with liked her hair to be wild and free-flowing, but she knew better than to walk through the lobby of a five-star New York hotel with bed head. The trick to being an escort in New York was to fit in so well you didn’t stand out at all. At La Donna Dolce, where they only serviced clients with bank accounts of over seven figures, that meant that she needed to fit into a society that publically snubbed yet privately condoned her profession.

Which meant that walking around with bed head was out of the question.

She had fixed the long, dark coffee-colored locks into a prim French twist by the time the elevator arrived. She stepped in, sliding on a pair of Dolce sunglasses in order to avoid eye contact. Wearing a designer pant suit and conservative jewelry, she looked like a visiting businesswoman – a ruse that she was able to maintain due to her British heritage. So it was with confidence that she stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, her Christian Louboutin heels clicking softly on the marble floor.

No one had the slightest clue, and that was how she liked it.

Her phone started ringing as she hit the reception area and she paused to dig it from her clutch, making a mental note to get a manicure later that day. “Hello?”

“Where are you?” came an annoyed voice.

“I’m on my way now. I’m sorry, I got held up.”

“Honestly, Kit, are you physically incapable of showing up anywhere on time?”

“That hardly seems fair. Listen, I’ll grab a cab and be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ve been waiting for ten minutes! They’re going to give our table away.”

“Who’s the maitre’d working this morning?”

“I…why does that matter?”

“Listen, if it’s Robert, tell him I’m on my way and if he could just hold the table. If it’s Danica, tell her I have a divine Chanel lipstick with her name on it if she could hold our table. If it’s anyone else and they won’t hold it, then we’ll find a different restaurant and brunch will be on me.”

“Kit…”

“I’ve got to go, darling, or I won’t make it in ten minutes. See you soon,” Kit said before hanging up and returning her phone to her clutch.

Feeling a pair of eyes on her, she turned toward the concierge desk where a tall, lean, handsome man with gorgeous cheekbones was watching her. There was a hint of a smirk playing on his full lips and while she considered him incredibly attractive, there was an arrogance to the way he stared that she didn’t like. Giving the coolest look she could muster, she turned and walked out of the hotel.

~ * ~

JC had come down to the lobby after his shower to retrieve his schedule from the concierge desk. As the manager went to get it, he heard the tell-tale sound of expensive heels and he turned to see a stunning brunette walking out of the elevator. He watched as she answered her phone and her husky British accent shot straight to his groin. When she was done, she caught him watching her. The look she sent him got him hard instantly.

He hadn’t been on the receiving end of a disdainful look from a woman in decades. It had made everything so easy and while he definitely took advantage of the truly astounding amount of sex he was offered, what he really loved was the chase. The alpha male within him loved the idea of really working for his conquest. It made the inevitable surrender so much sweeter.

“Here you go, sir,” the concierge said, and JC’s attention reluctantly turned back to work.

When he was back in his room, he picked up the disposable phone and dialed the number on his membership card.

“Hello, Mr. Scott. Welcome back to New York,” came the professional, somewhat bored voice of his personal La Donna Dolce contact.

“Thank you. It’s nice to be back,” he replied with a smile.

“How can we service you today?”

“I’m looking for something specific for tonight. Businesswoman, frosty disposition to start, passionate, dark hair, and if you have anyone who can do a passable British accent, that would definitely be appreciated,” he said, feeling himself getting hard again just at the idea of the mysterious woman who had snubbed him in the lobby.

“We can accommodate that. Shall we text this number with the price?”

“That should be fine.”

“What time would you like her?”

“Ten o’clock. Four Seasons.”

“Absolutely. Will there be anything else today, Mr. Scott?”

“No, thank you.”

“Have a good day.”

JC hung up and collapsed on his bed. He had checked his itinerary in the elevator and he had an hour to kill before he had to be anywhere. Closing his eyes, he imagined the woman from the lobby and ran his hand down his body, flicking his jeans open to release his straining erection.

Running his hand up his shaft, he imagined those full lips around his cock and groaned. Even though she had been wearing sunglasses, he imagined her with bright green eyes that looked up at him as she sucked. Her gaze was a mixture of power and surrender and he groaned at the thought, his hand moving faster as his hips bucked. It had been a long time since someone had gotten him this worked up and even though he would be enjoying an imitation of the real thing that night, he left his imagination to the task of conjuring what the real thing would feel like.

“Fuck…” he groaned as the thought of bending his fantasy woman over the bed and taking her roughly from behind had him cumming hard. Breathing heavily, he lay still for a moment, letting his mind wander to how incredibly sexy she looked in the tailored business suit and heels before pushing himself off the bed to clean up.

~ * ~

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” Kit said as she rushed into the restaurant, receiving a death stare from her best friend, Ana, in the process.

“What’s the excuse this time, hmm?” Ana asked, crossing her arms.

“I honestly got held up at work. You know how these personal assistant gigs work, Ana, they want what they want when they want it.”

“Well, I’ll forgive you because your mairtre’d friend Robert is working and he was able to seat us without you.”

“Us? I thought it was just going to be the two of us today?” Kit asked, giving Robert an ice-melting smile and a wink as Ana all but dragged her toward the table. Robert blushed and gave a small nod.

“Well, since you are always so busy, I figured I’d just ambush you. Brian’s here.”

Kit blinked, “Brian? I thought you were dating somebody named Noah?”

Ana rolled her eyes, “Noah and I broke up months ago, Kit. Don’t you listen to your voicemails?”

Truth be told, Kit could rarely keep up with her best friend’s love life, so even if she had paid attention to the numerous voicemails Ana left her on a regular basis, she probably still wouldn’t be as caught up with things as Ana expected her to be. While she loved her best friend to death, Ana was the type of woman who adored being adored, and therefore craved the spotlight all the time – in friendship as well as romantic relationships.

“Kit, this is Brian,” Ana said once they reached the table, and Kit smiled politely at the good-looking, well-dressed man who stood to shake her hand.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Kit said. “Ana’s spoken very highly of you.”

“As she has of you,” he replied, eyes wandering Kit’s body for a moment before adding, “Though, if I’d known this was a formal brunch, I would have worn a tie.”

“Kit is the personal assistant to some executive fashion person. Incredibly demanding and very particular about her wardrobe,” Ana explained.

“I can imagine, considering the business,” Brian said as they all sat. “I’m a hedge fund manager. Some of our clients are in the fashion industry. Who do you work for?”

“Can’t really say. Confidentiality, and all that,” Kit replied.

He arched an eyebrow, “Confidentiality in the fashion industry?”

“Well, you know how all those artistic types are – they’d hate anyone knowing anything about what’s coming off the runways this season.”

Ana quickly swooped in to steer the conversation back to herself, which was one of the things Kit loved about her friend. When moments occurred when she was about to dive into a situation she was not equipped to handle – like talking in depth about a job she didn’t actually have – Ana would dominate the conversation. While infuriating when the two were talking alone, it was very useful when in company.

Halfway through a preternaturally boring anecdote about Ana’s ironically high-maintenance boss, Kit heard her phone ring. That particular ringtone belonged to only one place, so she quickly excused herself and walked to a quiet corner near the back.

“Hello?”

“Hi Marlowe, it’s Jessica,” came the voice of La Donna Dolce’s scheduler.

“Hi,” Kit replied.

“We have a client for you tonight. Very particular. Wants a dark-haired British businesswoman with a cool disposition who turns very passionate. I couldn’t think of anyone better,” Jessica said.

“That is very particular. Alright. When and where?”

“Ten o’clock. Four Seasons.”

“Really? I was just there this morning.”

“Were you? Oh yes, I guess you were. Well, either someone is clairvoyant or saw you and made you their fantasy for the evening. Either way, are you in?”

“Yes, I am, though irony abounds.”

“Too high-level for me, Marlowe. I just push paper.”

Kit smiled slightly. The no-nonsense scheduler was a lovely girl, but she was never the brightest tool in the shed. The important thing was that she was discreet and did her job efficiently. The position didn’t require a deep knowledge of clever rhetorical devices.

“Ten at the Four Seasons. I’ll be there.”

“Good. Shall I tell him your usual rate?”

“Throw in a little extra for the accent.”

Jessica laughed.

“Now that I can understand as irony.”

Kit smiled slightly.

“Thanks, Jess.”

“Bye.”

Hanging up, Kit looked over her shoulder to see Ana and her boyfriend watching her from afar. Ana did not look pleased. Kit sighed. Sometimes she wondered whether her relationship with her friend was too much effort to maintain. As she headed back toward the table, she motioned to the waiter for another mimosa. She would get through this brunch even if she had to be drunk to do it.

Chapter Two

JC paced back and forth in his room. It was nine fifty-seven and he was a mass of nerves. He had received a text just before lunch stating the amount of money (a sum slightly larger than he was used to paying) and the name of the woman who would be arriving (Marlowe) but the only thing he had been thinking about the entire day was the woman in the lobby. He was sure he would not enjoy himself quite as much by the hired replica and the mere idea of his fantasy was slowly driving him insane.

At nine fifty-nine, there was a sharp rap at the door. JC almost jumped out of his skin. Taking a deep breath, he walked over and opened it.

He nearly had a heart attack.

There, in front of him, was the woman from the lobby. A different suit, of course, and without sunglasses but it was definitively her. Those lips were permanently ingrained in his mind.

For her part, Kit stifled a look of surprise to see the man that had stared at her that morning staring at her now. Upon closer inspection, he was much handsomer than she had initially thought; even if that standard was fairly high to begin with. His eyes were the bluest she had ever seen and his lips, which were slightly parted in surprise, begged to be nibbled.

“Come in,” he said when he found his voice, stepping aside to allow her in.

When he had shut the door behind her, she spoke, “I’m Marlowe. I believe you asked for me?”

Her voice was cool and dispassionate, and JC felt a thrill travel down his spine. She had that same look of disdain upon her face and to his surprise he noticed her eyes were a beautiful hazel green. He swallowed hard, “Yes. I did.”

“And may I inquire as to why?” she asked.

“Because I find you mysteriously irresistible and would like to fuck you in as many positions as my mind can conjure,” he replied, smirking slightly.

She seemed unfazed, “Yes, well, we’ll see about that.”

It was a brilliant act. On the inside, Kit was wondering if this was a good idea. This man was gorgeous and just her type. He seemed both arrogant and eager, which was a mixture she found intriguing. He also happened to be well-known around the agency, as she came to discover when she had stopped by that afternoon. He was known for being sexy, charming and gifted – all of which Kit appreciated in a man.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked as he walked over to his wallet. He found himself shaking as he pulled the bills out.

“I don’t think so. I won’t be here long,” she said, which caused him to look at her. She arched an eyebrow and slowly he realized that she was playing hard to get. She had been so believable that he had almost forgotten this was a game.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to leave so soon,” he purred, handing her the money. “One drink won’t kill you.”

She seemed to debate it for a moment. “Well, I suppose one drink will be fine. Red wine, please. Your restroom is where?”

He pointed to a door and she went in without a word.

JC exhaled. This was just too good to be true. His heart was pounding. He would have to thank whatever deity he could think of for providing him with this kismetic sort of luck – though he was certain this particular situation probably wouldn’t go down too well with whatever deity he chose. But the irony was not lost on him. Fantasizing about a particular woman, asking for that type of woman, and realizing that she was a woman who fulfilled fantasies? The possibilities were endless.

Kit quickly counted the bills he handed to her. She smiled slightly at the twenty percent mark-up Jessica had given her accent. Putting the money in her purse, she looked in the mirror, checking to make sure her make-up was in order. She now had to figure out how far to take this “cool, conservative British businesswoman” façade. Should she create a fantasy situation? Then she thought, ‘This man’s fantasy is you. The real you. So work from the interaction you’ve had with him.’

Taking a deep breath, she stepped back into the room.

“I don’t like eavesdroppers, you know,” she said, putting her purse on the hotel room desk as she watched him pour two glasses of wine.

He smirked. “You remember me, then?”

“Hard to forget someone who stares so rudely.”

His grin turned somewhat sheepish, “Do you blame me?”

She arched an eyebrow, “I think it was the arrogant stare, actually. The crude, very American assumption that you could have me if you put your mind to it.”

He handed her a glass, “I could, you know,” he said.

“Really? And if you could, how would you have me?”

“Any way I could think of.”

She took a sip of her wine, as if thinking. “That sounds very vague to me.”

“You want specifics?”

“Well, since you seem intent on hypothesizing.”

He was suddenly struck with how smart she was. That was always the part of the act that the escort couldn’t fake her way through. Intelligence was either there, or it wasn’t. In the past ten minutes, she had been articulate, witty and shown a deep understanding of the nuances of vocabulary. This one was very smart, which made him crave her even more.

“I’d start by kissing you,” he said, moving toward her with a catlike grace.

Kit felt her throat go a little dry, “That seems presumptuous. Perhaps I’d slap you,” she choked out.

He grinned, noting the effect he was having on her, “You wouldn’t slap me. You wouldn’t know it was coming but you wouldn’t be able to resist it either.”

“Confident, are you?”

He stopped in front of her, his body barely touching hers, whispering, “Very.”

Her eyes dropped to his lips and he smirked. He could see the light blush that was blooming on her pale cheeks and the way she swallowed hard that he was having an effect on her. But then she flicked her eyes back up to his and he felt like he had been gut-checked by the icy stare.

She slowly side-stepped him, “It takes more than that to have me, Mr. Scott.”

He gripped her arm and swung her back into his arms, saying, “Josh.”

He saw a flicker of confusion in her eyes and he realized that she probably didn’t hear first names very often. In fact, he had never offered it before. But the idea of making her scream his name made him want his first name – his real name – to be the name she screamed.

Kit blinked up at him, trying to read him. She was usually a good judge of what men wanted, though admittedly it was not the most difficult task in the world. But this man was an enigma. She had thought him cocky, probably from a lifetime of being able to get whatever woman he wanted whenever he wanted her, but then there was softness to his eyes that told her he was a romantic at heart.

His sudden kiss surprised her, and when she realized what was going on, she pulled away and before she could think, slapped him.

JC held his cheek, the sting of the slap still raw as he stared at her. Her chest was heaving, panting, as her eyes searched his. Then he saw it: doubt. She was doubting whether the slap had been a good idea, which told him that it had been an organic, knee-jerk reaction. Which meant that the real her, the woman that had mesmerized him in the lobby, had taken over for just a moment.

He pressed her against the wall and kissed her hard, unrelenting and uncompromising. Her hands flew to his hair, nails sliding over his scalp as she responded to his kiss. It was explosive. Lips and tongues and teeth battled for domination and she gave as good as she got. Kit lost herself in the feeling of his body pressed so closely to hers. He was all smooth skin and chiseled muscle, and she knew that if she didn’t do something, she would surrender so completely to him that the line would blur between who she was at work and who she was in life.

She didn’t want that line to blur.

She felt him let her hair down and she pulled away from his lips, giving him a fiery look with her eyes. Then she pushed him back onto the bed. He stumbled a bit and fell heavily, always watching her. She flicked her hair, letting the long, wavy mass of brown locks tumble over her shoulders.

“It seems that you think you have me, Mr. Scott,” she said, sauntering over to him and sitting on his lap, “But what are you going to do with me now?”

A slow smirk appeared on his lips and with a swift motion, he stood and pressed her back against the wall. She squeaked slightly in surprise at the movement, her legs locking around his torso and her hands gripping onto his broad shoulders. She felt his hands run up under her suit jacket and he hissed when he felt nothing but bare skin.

“Do you always go to business meetings with nothing under your suit?” he breathed, unbuttoning the jacket and pushing it over her shoulders.

“Depends entirely who I’m meeting,” she replied, her eyes fluttering closed as his lips found the point on her neck that rendered her weak. She let out a breath as his tongue flicked out to trace her shoulder and she shuddered.

“Should I feel special?” he asked, hands running up her sides as he watched her face. The flush had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were closed as he caressed the sides of her breasts, thumbs plucking gently at her nipples. He could feel her heat through his jeans and he felt himself react at the thought that he was the reason she was getting so aroused.

“I don’t know,” she replied, opening her eyes slightly as she looked down at him, adding, “What’s special about you?”

He felt his self-control quickly unraveling. Under normal circumstances, he would take his time, teasing and enjoying giving pleasure almost as much as he enjoyed getting it. But that night, with this woman, he wanted nothing more than to just bury himself within her and hear her scream his name.

“Let me show you,” he whispered before kissing her hard, his fingers pushing her trousers and panties off before flicking his own jeans open. Gazing at her, he pulled his t-shirt off, wanting to feel her breasts pressing against his skin as he fucked her.

He ran his hands down the center of her body to see how wet she was. She purred slightly as he slid his finger within her. His stomach tensed as he felt how tight she was. Just imagining that tightness around his cock had him at his wit’s end.

“I feel how wet you are, kitten,” he whispered to her as he continued to play with her softly while his other hand retrieved a foil packet from his pocket. “Tell me how much you want me.”

Kit gasped as his thumb caressed her clit, trying to form words as her hips bucked. “I…I don’t know…what you’re talking about,” she managed to gasp.

He had sheathed himself and looked back up at her face, his hand pausing in its movements. He caught her eyes before watching her breasts heave as he slowly started teasing her clit again, his thumb moving in torturous circles. He watched as her lips parted, her stomach quivering and her breathing getting shallower.

“Tell me,” he whispered, leaning in to nip at her ear. “Tell me how much you want to cum.”

She whimpered and he smiled, slowly leading his cock toward her entrance. He kissed her neck, teasing her by sliding the head of his cock up and down her slit, “Tell me, baby.”

Kit let out a breath, her body almost shaking from the pleasure he was giving her. She licked her lips, trying to think straight with the feeling of his penis so close where she wanted it. She had never been so turned on by a client before, but she was not about to lose the upper hand of this encounter. As much as she wanted him, she kept her mouth shut.

He watched as she swallowed hard before tensing her jaw. He arched an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to surrender so easily. He smiled slightly, unwrapping her legs from his torso and opening her body wider, hooking her legs over his arms so she was spread in front of him.

“I suppose I’m just going to have to make you cum, then,” he said before thrusting hard into her body, burying himself to the hilt in her tight, wet heat.

Kit’s eyes slammed shut, locking the scream down in her throat as she felt the most delicious stretch within her than she had ever felt in her life. “Gifted” was not the right word for the equipment this man’s wielded. He was magnificent.

His thrusts were long and hard, just the way she liked it. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he pumped relentlessly into her body, his lips occasionally grazing over her collarbone, his breath hot on her skin. She felt her body tensing, the build within her stomach increasing to a crescendo, when all of a sudden, he stopped.

Her eyes flew open to see him staring at her. His eyes bore into her as he held himself still. She could feel his pulse through her body; his control was on the edge. She recognized the look. But he wanted her to submit first.

Smirking, she rolled her hips, tightening herself around him as she did so. He cried out, his stomach tensing as he dropped one of her legs to grip the wall. She saw the veins on his neck standing out against his skin as he fell into her, trying to regain the upper hand as he composed himself.

After a moment, he looked up into her face, mere inches from hers. His eyes blazed fire.

“Fuck you,” he spat and she gave a coy smile.

“Tell me how much you want to cum,” she purred.

He gripped her hair with one hand, the other still holding one of her legs, and he pulled her closer to him, stopping millimeters from her lips, “I will make you cum. And you will scream my name.”

He kissed her then, the same deep, unrelenting kiss but as he started pumping his hips again, she knew something had snapped. He was assaulting all of her senses at once with pleasure and pain; kissing and nipping hard at her lips; his powerful, almost violent thrusts within her body hitting her g-spot with pinpoint precision; his hand tugging at her hair.

The build that had started in her stomach earlier had been replaced by a deeper, darker pleasure; something she hadn’t felt before. It shot from her core through her limbs, electrifying every nerve within her. She found herself needing air but his kisses were too overwhelming.

Then the world stopped and her body started shaking. She pulled away from his lips with a gasp before her vocal chords betrayed her brain and she was screaming. Her body was on fire. She was wrapped in a velvet darkness of an erotic wonderland; all violent colors and overwhelming sensation. Pleasure, so dark and wonderful, consumed her and rolled over her in waves. It was insistent, merciless and unending. Her nails dug into his skin, his name – ‘Josh’ – rolling off her tongue like a chant.

JC felt her body slam tight around him and he cried out, his body tense as he rode out her orgasm. He watched her, jaw tense, as she gave in, her body flushing as she started to scream. He was in awe at how beautiful she was, uninhibited in her enjoyment. When she screamed his name – his real name – he felt himself lose it. A deep, sensual groan escaped his lips, his body thrusting all the way into her, hips jerking as he came harder than he had ever cum before. Stars appeared in front of his eyes as he felt his pleasure course through his body and up his shaft, emptying himself within her.

They were both shaking as they came down from their highs, and JC stumbled backwards to fall onto the bed, bringing her with him. She landed gracelessly on top of him, panting heavily. They lay like that for a few moments before she rolled off of him, staring at the ceiling. It had been a very long time since someone had rendered her speechless. But this man, with his intensity and heat, had unraveled her completely.

A few more moments passed before he stood, kicking out of his jeans and walking unabashedly naked to the bathroom. Kit watched him, rolling onto her side and propping her head up with her elbow. His body seemed to be made of muscle, though his ass was a little flatter than she normally liked. She smiled to herself, looking down at the luxurious eight-hundred thread-count sheets, as she thought, ‘Well, nobody’s perfect.’

“Something funny?” he asked and she looked back up to see him standing at the bathroom door, watching her.

“No,” she replied, looking up into his face and keeping eye contact. Her body may have surrendered to him but she still had some fight in her. Plus, he had paid for the whole night. Might as well make it interesting.

He lay next to her, looking at her as he, too, propped himself up on his elbow.

“You are a perplexing woman, Marlowe,” he said.

She smiled slightly, “Have you ever met a woman who wasn’t perplexing, Mr. Scott?” she replied coyly.

He cocked his head.

“Not one who is perplexing in the way that you are, Marlowe,” he replied, her work name tripping off his tongue.

“And how am I perplexing, Mr. Scott?” she asked, keeping her eyes cool but playful.

He surveyed her, as if thinking, and she could feel herself melting into his deep blue eyes.

“You’re smart,” he said finally, taking his free hand and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before starting to trace his fingers over her jaw. “You’re sexy as hell,” he continued, his fingers dancing over her neck and down the valley between her breasts. Then he pushed her onto her back, sliding closer to her as he lay his palm flat against her sternum. “And you don’t seem like the type of person who would…take a job like the one you have.”

“And what type of job do I have, Mr. Scott?” she countered, her eyes still holding his gaze as she arched a brow.

He smiled slightly, “Universal exports?”

She laughed in spite of herself – her genuine laugh – but swallowed it when she realized what she was doing. This was where the line became blurred. A man who was physically and sexually her type, making her forget the façade, even if it was for a moment.

JC watched the woman below him in wonder. That laugh had gone straight to his groin; husky and sensual, it was a sound like nothing he had heard before. But then she had swallowed it as suddenly as it had escaped and he caught a flicker of fear in her eyes.

But he didn’t understand why.

Kit knew she needed to take his mind off of the growing silence, so she took advantage of his assessment of her and pushed him onto his back. She straddled his torso, running her tongue up his long, sinewy neck to his ear.

“And how may I service you tonight, Mr. Bond?” she asked, deciding she might as well use his joke to create another fantasy. After all, what man didn’t want to be James Bond?

This man seemed no different as he groaned when she nibbled on his earlobe.

“Any way you feel like it, Moneypenny,” he replied in an awful Scottish accent, no doubt trying to imitate the most famous Bond actor. Kit had to work to stifle her laughter as she nibbled her way down his neck again, tongue flicking out to taste the saltiness of his skin.

She could feel the muscles beneath her contracting as she moved further down, lips and teeth forging the pathway, her hair spilling onto his body. As she drew closer, she felt his semi-hard erection prodding her chest and she flicked her hair out of her face and gazed up at him with a playful smile before slowly caressing his cock between her breasts.

“Shit…” he groaned, his back arching slightly as she massaged him to a full erection. She allowed herself a moment to just gaze at him. He had, quite possibly, the most perfect penis she had ever encountered. He was long, but not too long – a little over eight inches – and thick without being overwhelming. Smiling, she let her eyes lock on his as she lowered her lips and licked the head.

JC gripped the sheets as he watched this sphinx of a woman wrap her lips around his cock. It was the single most sensual thing he had experienced in a very long time. Licking his lips, he swallowed hard and watched her with hooded eyes as she gave him a grin before taking him deep into her throat.

“Holy fuck!” JC cried, eyes slamming shut and hands gripping tighter to the sheets. The incredible suction of her lips around him, coupled with her ability to take so much of him, had him aching. When her hand cupped his balls, he felt himself tense and he had to think of various mundane things to stop himself from cumming.

Kit watched him as she sucked, swirling her tongue up the base of his shaft as she slowly stroked up and down. She had been pleasantly surprised to find him clean and she smirked to herself when she realized that he had gone to the bathroom earlier specifically for the purpose of cleaning himself up.

Which mean that he expected this.

It was definitely not uncommon for her to perform this particular task with clients. In fact, in her experience, this was the thing they desired the most. But with this man it was different. She wanted to make him cum, to bring him to ecstasy just so she could have the upper hand. The power play between them seemed to make everything more electric.

She caressed his balls, feeling him tense with every touch but pulling himself back from the brink just before he came. She could taste his pre-cum on her tongue, tangy and salty. Licking the tip of his cock, she concentrated on the sensitive, heart-shaped head, sucking hard.

JC gasped, eyes flying open as she concentrated on the head of his cock, her hands still torturing him. After a particularly playful swipe of her tongue against the sensitive tip, he felt himself losing control of his body.

“Fuck! Don’t stop…oh God…” he groaned, a hand flying to her head to guide her movements. He was so close; so incredibly close. Her mouth was amazing and he wanted more than anything to shoot his cum down her throat.

Kit could feel him start to unravel, and just as she slid her mouth all the way down, a hand still gently caressing his balls, her other hand slid down, pressing firmly on the perineum just as the tip of his cock hit the back of her throat.

JC felt as if someone had body checked him into a wall of indescribable pleasure. Ecstasy raced through his body as he let out a torrent of curses, his body bucking as he came down her throat. He felt momentarily lifted out of his himself, his limbs going numb as his skin sang, every nerve sparking within him.

He collapsed against the bed, eyes wide, completely spent. In his peripheral he saw her stand over him, licking her lips and smiling…no, smirking at him. He simply stared. He was momentarily struck mute.

That had never happened before. He had never unraveled that quickly and at that level of intensity, and certainly never from a blowjob. While they were definitely pleasurable, it took a lot to bring him to the brink.

She had done it in less than five minutes.

He groaned slightly as she crawled over his body with the grace of a jungle cat, wanting to touch her but feeling his limbs limp at his side. She lay on top of him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her heat teasing his now-flaccid cock, and let her fingers dance up his jawline.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he breathed, the last vestiges of lazy pleasure slowly disappearing. His tactile senses slowly started returning, and with a little effort, he lifted his arm and lay a gentle hand on her back, fingers tracing down her bare spine.

He smiled when she shivered.

She went to move off of him but he stopped her. She looked up at him expectantly, thinking he would speak, but he just watched her as he ran his fingers up and down her back. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her body from quivering. Her back had always been very sensitive, but she also considered it incredibly sensual, which just added to the experience.

He watched her, seeing her as she tried to control her expression. He could feel goose bumps form in spite of her determination, and as he kneaded his fingers into her lower back, a moan escaped from her lips and he felt her nipples get hard against his chest.

He had regained his strength, and gently rolled them over, falling on top of her. She let out a breath, looking up at him. He took her in. Smooth skin, large hazel-green eyes, a pert nose and full lips; a long neck led to graceful shoulders, a divine pair of breasts and a body that called to every part of him.

“You are beautiful,” he heard himself say.

Kit blinked, unsure how to respond. It wasn’t the first time a client had said that to her, but the look of reverence in his eyes was something she hadn’t seen before.

He leant down, catching her lips with his and kissing her softly. He took his time, nipping her lower lip before sliding his tongue along the full flesh. She gave in and their tongues met in a hot, slow dance. He brought up a hand to cup her cheek, the other running through her hair. Her arms slowly, tentatively, wrapped around his neck.

Kit felt her body heat under his, her lips submitting to his quiet insistence. He tasted like wine and something else that she couldn’t quite place – something darker – but the combination was addicting. Her fingers played with the strands of hair at the back of his neck and she gave a little sigh.

Then she realized what she was doing.

She pulled away without thinking, dropping her arms to the bed. He looked somewhat dazed, but his brow furrowed when he realized what was happening.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I…” she started but she didn’t know how to finish the sentence. They had known each other for an hour, at most, and she was feeling something in the pit of her stomach that told her more than any conversation.

She liked him.

“I need to go,” she whispered, quickly crawling out from beneath him.

She was on her feet and pulling her pants on before the words registered.

“Wait a minute,” he said, turning to look at her.

“I’m sorry. Here…” she said, digging into her purse and offering him the money he had given her.

“No, I don’t…what’s wrong?” he asked.

“This…I…” But she couldn’t tell him. It was against every fiber in her being to leave but she knew herself well enough to know that if she stayed, there would be worse consequences.

“Did I…did I hurt you?” he asked as she pulled her jacket on.

She spun around to face him, “What? No,” she said, shaking her head. “I just…”

But she still couldn’t say it. Stepping into her heels, she gathered her thoughts. She knew she would have a lot to answer for if she left, and it was likely she would lose her job. But she had taken the job to avoid the pain of heartache and had become very good at locking down her emotions because of it. Yet in one hour, this man had been able to penetrate through her carefully-constructed walls.

Without even trying.

“I’m sorry,” she said, dropping the money on the bed and fleeing as quickly as she could.

Chapter Three

“JC, man, what’s with you today?”

“Huh?”

JC turned to look at his colleague, Dominic “D-Trix” Sandoval. His younger friend was staring worriedly at him and it took a moment for JC to remember where he was. The entire day had been a blur of press and questions. He didn’t remember half of what he said or did. He didn’t even remember ordering the turkey sandwich that was sitting in front of him.

“Dude, you’ve been out of it all day,” D-Trix said. “I dunno how you managed to answer any questions, because your head has definitely not been with us.”

JC sighed. It was true that he had been on autopilot. His time with *NSYNC had afforded him the ability to give interviews without really being mentally present. It was a pretty good trick, especially when he had a lot on his mind. That day, his mind had been focused solely on the events of the night before. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the mysterious woman who had suddenly appeared and then disappeared from his life. It was like she had stripped him of any other conscious thought.

“Yeah…I guess I’m just tired,” JC said vaguely, taking a half-hearted bite of his sandwich.

“Yeah, okay,” D-Trix mumbled. “Not for nothing, JC, but you gotta snap out of it. You may be answering the questions, but it’s pretty obvious that you don’t wanna be here.”

“I don’t wanna be here,” he replied honestly.

“I don’t think any of us do, man. But ya gotta pretend, y’know?”

JC sighed. As much as he loved his job – and understood completely how big of a blessing it was – there were moments when he wished he had chosen a life as one of the anonymous masses. For one thing, he wouldn’t have had to deal with cameras shoved in his face every moment of the day but more importantly, he wouldn’t have met her.

“I’m…I’ll be right back.”

Ignoring the confused look on his colleague’s face, JC walked out of the hotel suite where they had been giving interviews and looked around for a quiet corner to place his phone call. He found solitude in the nook with the ice machine, and pulled his disposable phone out of his pocket.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Scott. How may we service you today?”

“I, um…I was wondering if I could book the same woman as last night for tonight. Marlowe.”

“I can check with her scheduler and get back to you. Would you like me to book someone different if she’s unavailable?”

“Um…no. And, er…if she has another, um, appointment, just know…I’m willing to pay double.”

There was a pause on the other line before his contact cleared her throat. “Double?”

“Yes.”

“What time should I say?”

“Same time.”

“I will check with her scheduler and get back to you.”

“Thank you.”

JC hung up and let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Marlowe’s inexplicable disappearing act the night before weighed heavily on his mind. He had thought they had been having a nice time; he knew he certainly had been and he was confident enough in his sexual abilities to think that she had enjoyed herself too. But then she had just…left.

Under normal circumstances, he would have just shrugged it off; maybe even called for another girl to pass the rest the night. But there was something about her; something intriguing. She distracted him to the point of frustration and he didn’t understand why.

“JC?”

JC spun around to see his assistant looking at him. He sighed. “Is it time?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll be right there.”

The young woman gave him a perplexed look, but then shrugged and walked back to the suite. JC took a deep breath, trying to realign his mind to the task at hand. He had made the phone call. There was nothing more to be done until he heard back.

~ * ~

Kit awoke with a pounding headache and a deliciously sore throb between her thighs; a memento of the mind-blowing sex she had had the night before. She groaned, stretching as she lay in bed for a few more minutes, glancing at the clock. It was nearing two in the afternoon. She had been sleeping for almost twelve hours. Clearly, her body had needed the rest.

She had come straight home after unceremoniously rushing out of the hotel, and had opened a bottle of tequila. It was not normally her drink of choice, as she knew what it did to her. But it was the quickest way for her to get drunk so she downed several shots before collapsing on her bed. The headache was a painful reminder of why she avoided the deceptively smooth drink in the first place.

As she was contemplating the merits of getting out of bed versus staying in the prone position for the rest of the day, her phone rang. She winced, the high-pitched ringtone serving as a notice that her impromptu exit the night before had definitely put her job in jeopardy.

“Hello?” she said.

“Hey Marlowe. It’s Jess.”

“Uh…hey, Jess,” Kit said, slightly confused. She was certain her boss would be the one to fire her. It was a little insulting to think that after all the time she’s spent working for La Donna Dolce and money she had made them, she would be fired by the scheduler.

“You seem to have a fan,” Jess said, her voice a little too chipper for Kit to deal with in her current state.

“I’m sorry?”

“Your client last night. He wants you again tonight.”

Kit frowned. “Really?”

Jess chuckled. “You seem surprised.”

“Well…I…I didn’t get that “repeat customer” vibe from him.”

“Well, he seems eager. Shall we tell him you’ll be there?”

“I…I don’t think so. I’m…I’m not feeling very well, to be honest.”

“Really? That’s a shame, because he’s willing to pay double what he paid last night.”

Kit sighed. Aside from getting into the job because of the emotional emptiness, she also had an exorbitant amount of student loans that needed to be paid off. She had done well since she had started working there, managing to pay down more of her debt than a normal twenty-something would, but she still had a ways to go and she hadn’t saved nearly enough to be able to manage unemployment without selling a few pints of blood.

“Marlowe?”

“Yeah, okay. Can I call you back?”

“Sure. You should know…he was very specific. Apparently he told his contact that he didn’t want anyone but you.”

“Of course he did,” Kit mumbled. “Alright, give me a couple of hours to see how I’m feeling.”

“Okay.”

Kit hung up and immediately called another number.

“Hey there, stranger,” a warm, bubbly voice answered. “It’s weird, I was just gonna call you.”

Kit smiled slightly in spite of herself. Tara Christie had been Kit’s friend and mentor when Kit had started at La Donna Dolce almost two years earlier. Now the high-flying mistress of a wealthy film producer, Tara kept in contact occasionally, serving as Kit’s touchstone on professional issues.

“Oh yeah?” Kit said.

“Yeah. I’m in New York. J.J. has some meetings here, so I decided to take the old Amex Black out for a spin on Fifth. Wanna keep me company?”

“I...um…well…”

“Alright, sweetie, what’s up?”

“I have…an issue.”

“Something that should probably be discussed in person?”

“Yeah. And preferably not while dress shopping at Barneys.”

“You at home?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Kit hung up with a relieved sigh. If there was anyone who would be able to help her think through her predicament, it would be Tara. Tara had gotten out of the game when she had fallen for a client. She would know how to proceed.

~ * ~

“Alright, I’m here. What happened?”

Kit shut the door behind Tara, motioning for her friend to follow her into the living room. She had managed enough energy to shower and put on some presentable clothes, but neither had given her any more clarity on the situation.

“I connected with a client last night,” Kit said, collapsing onto her sofa as her friend sat in a chair opposite her. “And he wants to see me again tonight.”

Tara leaned forward. “Talk to me,” she said.

“I…it’s all a little strange,” Kit admitted. “I was walking through the lobby of the Four Seasons yesterday morning and I noticed this man staring at me. I didn’t think much of him…I mean, he was very handsome but had one of those looks to him – you know, a cocky certainty that every woman is just dying to sleep with him?”

Tara nodded and Kit continued. “Anyway, I gave him a cold stare and went to meet a friend for brunch. Then I got a call for an appointment – British businesswoman, cold and dispassionate – at the Four Seasons last night. I thought it was ironic, you know? I guess I should have suspected something then, really.”

Tara frowned. “The client was that guy from the lobby?”

“Yes. Apparently he’s well-known at the agency. He only comes to New York a few times a year but when he does, he always gets a girl. He had a great reputation, so I wasn’t really worried but when I got to his room…”

“It was the guy from the lobby,” Tara repeated.

“Yes,” Kit said. “And…I don’t know. He just wasn’t what I expected. I mean, physically he’s just my type. Tall, lean, dark hair, light eyes. Cheekbones that defy gravity. And he has this…this sinful lower lip…”

Tara smiled slightly. “You must be referring to Mr. Scott.”

Kit looked startled. “You know him?”

“Oh honey, of course I know him. How do you think he got the reputation he has?”

She felt her heart plummet. “So…you’ve slept with him.”

“Yes. And I can understand why you connected with him. He’s a very talented lover.”

“Yeah,” Kit replied softly, looking down.

Tara sighed. “Sweetie, everyone has at least one client that makes them feel those butterflies. Mr. Scott didn’t really do it for me…he’s a little too skinny for my tastes…but he is charming.”

“Yeah, but…it was more than that. It felt different.”

“Different how?”

“Well, for one thing, I’ve never been that turned on by someone. Ever.”

Tara arched an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yes. The sex…it was explosive. He pulled sensations from me that I haven’t experienced before. He was passionate and aggressive but then…there was this moment where everything slowed down and he was tender.”

Tara’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think ‘tender’ would have ever been an adjective I’d have used to describe him.”

Kit sighed. “Well, he was. And he has this…sexy/sweet thing going on that throws me off. Also…what’s with him giving out his first name? Is it, like, a power thing?”

Tara looked startled. “He gave you his first name?”

Kit’s brow furrowed. “Uh…yeah. Does he not do that?”

Tara chuckled. “No. In fact, I don’t think I ever had a conversation with him. He was just a “let’s get to it” type of client with me.” She frowned slightly. “Come to think of it, that’s what most girls liked about him. He doesn’t talk.”

“Well…it’s not like we had an actual conversation. But…he made me laugh. I mean…my real laugh.”

Tara smiled slightly. “You like him, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“And because of that, you’re not sure you want to see him again.”

“Right.”

“So don’t see him. Tell Jess that you wouldn’t feel comfortable with it.”

“But they’re going to ask why.”

“Trust me, honey, they won’t.”

“Won’t it reflect badly on him?”

Tara shrugged. “Maybe. Does that matter?”

“Of course it matters. I don’t want to blacklist him from La Donna Dolce just because I had an emotional reaction him.”

“Then tell them that you had an emotional reaction to him.”

“But then they’re not going to trust me.”

Tara sighed. “Honey, I love you, but your making my head hurt.”

Kit sighed. “I know the feeling.”

“The way I see it, you have two options. Either you call and say you can’t see him and you give them a reason why, or you bite the bullet and go tonight.”

Kit nibbled at her lower lip, thinking. “What if I went tonight and told him that I didn’t want to see him? Is he the type of guy to take that kind of thing badly?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you, babe.”

“He said he’d pay double. He didn’t want anyone else.”

Tara sucked in a breath. “Seriously?”

“I don’t know what to think of that.”

Tara chuckled. “I’d be flattered.”

“Yeah,” Kit said. “But at the same time…he’s still paying for me.”

“Well…that’s what you do, sweetie.”

“I know.”

“You can always get out of the game.”

“I know that too. I honestly thought that I might have to…I kinda…ran out on him yesterday. He paid for the full night and I bolted before midnight. Don’t worry, I left the money,” she added when Tara opened her mouth.

“I wasn’t going to mention anything about that, though I think it’s a little dumb considering you’re gonna have to eat that twenty percent commission fee,” she said. “What I was going to say was, if you ran out on him last night, and not only did he not turn you in but he wants to see you again…I’d go.”

“Really?”

“Look…when I met J.J., I knew there were sparks between us. It scared the ever living shit out of me. I did everything I could to repress my emotions – I even tried to sabotage our encounters by being late, or rude, or clingy…all those things that are guaranteed to alienate a client. But he kept asking for me. It took me awhile to realize that he knew exactly what I was doing, because he was just as scared about how he felt about me as I was about him.”

Kit smiled sadly. “Yeah, but your story is an anomaly, Tara. Your type of happy ending is not the type we normally get in our industry.”

She laughed. “This is true, but if there’s something that experience has taught me, it’s that anything is possible.”

“So you think I should go?”

“What do you have to lose?”

Kit remained silent, unwilling to answer that question just yet.

Chapter Four

JC found himself pacing again, looking at his watch consistently. He had been on pins and needles for a good portion of the afternoon, waiting to hear what the verdict was. His heart leapt when he received a confirmation text saying that Marlowe was available. Time couldn’t go by fast enough after that.

Now, it was several minutes past ten, and he was starting to think that she wouldn’t show up. He kept looking at the phone, wondering if he would get a cancelation text or something that told him she wasn’t coming. But the phone remained silent and his nerves remained frayed.

At a quarter past the hour, there was a soft knock on his door. He didn’t think he’d ever moved so quickly in his life. Opening it, he saw her standing there, eyes as cool as they had been the night before. She was wearing a smart Burberry trench coat and, because he was who he was, his mind automatically wandered to whether she was wearing anything underneath.

“Come in,” he said softly, standing aside. For a split second, he thought he saw her hesitate. But then she sailed past him and he was left with the intoxicating scent of her perfume as he closed the door.

“So I hear you asked for me again,” she said in the same dispassionate tone.

“Yes. I did.”

“I suppose you’re angry about how things ended last night. I apologize for that. I wasn’t feeling very well.”

“No, that’s not why… are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, I’m fine. So…shall we get started?”

JC frowned as she untied her coat, letting it drop to the floor as she let her hair down from its bun, turning to face him. She was wearing a black satin corset, trimmed with lace, which displayed her breasts to their fullest advantage. Over her hip-hugging panties was a garter belt that held up black, sheer, silk stockings.

Had it been any other woman, he would have been on top of her within seconds. But he suddenly didn’t like the no-nonsense way she was addressing their tryst. He didn’t like thinking that this was just a job for her – that he was just another client. He had been thinking about her all day, nearly going out of his mind, and she was standing there as if this was just another in a series of errands she had to do.

“Is there a problem?” she asked when he hadn’t said anything for a few minutes.

“I…would you like a drink?”

Kit frowned. She had psyched herself into a particular mood for the evening, wanting to repress any type of emotion and just focus on the sex. But when she had turned to face him, he looked like a deer in headlights and she couldn’t understand why he wasn’t treating her the way he treated the other women he had been with.

“I…sure,” she replied.

He walked over to the bar and she went to sit on the bed, crossing her legs as she watched him. His back was to her, so she took in the line of his body. His shoulders were broader than she had originally thought. A sudden image of her nails digging into those shoulders the night before flew through her mind and she closed her eyes for a moment, pushing it away.

“How do you like your Scotch?” he asked, and she opened her eyes to see him looking at her, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

“Neat,” she replied, taking it from him. She took a small sip, the familiar burn of alcohol sliding down her throat. The quality, however, was unmistakable.

“Very nice,” she said, looking at him as he threw back his own glass.

He smiled slightly. “Thirty year old Scotch. They know what they’re doing over on your side of the Atlantic.”

She looked up at him, watching him watching her. She tried to keep her look cool and uncaring. The last thing she needed was for her façade to break again. She had to keep reminding herself that he was a client. This was just business.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he finally said. This admission seemed to catch her off-guard, so he continued. “I don’t know what type of hold you have over me, but whatever it is, it’s incredibly distracting.”

Kit stared at him for a moment before saying, “I can’t imagine what it is about me that distracts you. I’m sure I’m no different from any of the other women you’ve been with.”

He tilted his head to the side. “You know, I didn’t ask for a cold businesswoman tonight.”

She blinked, startled. “You…you said you wanted the same thing as yesterday.”

He shook his head. “I wanted the same woman as yesterday – you. But I didn’t specify a demeanor.”

Her brow furrowed, processing this. Without a character, she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep the boundaries up. “So…what do you want?”

He smiled slightly. “How about the real you?”

She tensed. “The real me is not for sale.”

“That’s good, because I’m not trying to buy her.”

“Listen, Mr. Scott…”

“I would really prefer it if you called me Josh.”

She shook her head. “Let’s not play coy. We both know why I’m here, so why don’t we just…get on with it.”

He arched an eyebrow. “That’s direct.”

“Well…it’s a pretty straight-forward service.”

He smiled slightly. “You truly are an incredibly perplexing woman.”

“I’m really not.”

“Any woman as smart, witty and beautiful as you who willingly decides to become an escort does not sound like a simple human being.”

“Perhaps I just like sex.”

“If it were that simple, you could be anything you wanted to be. Men would fall at your feet for the opportunity to fuck you.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the money.”

He shrugged. “Maybe you are. I just don’t think so.”

She sighed, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “What do you want from me? You called, I’m here…why are we not fucking yet?”

He stared at her quizzically, trying to figure her out. “Why are you so eager? We have the whole night.”

She sighed, kicking off her heels and sliding up the bed to the pillows, getting comfortable before crossing her ankles and taking a sip of her Scotch. “Alright. What would you like to do?”

JC couldn’t help his body’s natural reaction to her laying there. He admitted she looked incredibly sexy. And while he was more than happy to take advantage of her willingness to submit, he realized that he wasn’t in any hurry, which was new for him.

Kit watched as he slowly put his glass on the bar before walking into the bathroom. He exited a moment later with a fluffy terrycloth bathroom. Tossing it to her, she caught it before frowning.

“You…want me to cover up?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t you like what I’m wearing?”

“I do. Very much so. Which is why I’d like you to cover up.”

Thoroughly confused, Kit nevertheless did what she was told. Once she had secured the tie, she looked at him. She was floored when she saw him consulting the room service menu.

“Hungry?” he asked. She opened her mouth to decline, but her stomach chose that moment to growl. She blushed as he chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes. The steak au poivre is pretty good. How do you take yours?”

She stared at him for a moment before she started laughing. She couldn’t help it. It was quite possibly the most ridiculous situation she had been in. There she was, lying on the enormous, luxurious bed of a five-star hotel wearing expensive lingerie in front of a gorgeous man, and he was suggesting food as nonchalantly as if he was recommending a meal at a restaurant.

JC watched as she started laughing. The sound went straight to his groin. It was the laugh she had stifled the night before – the honest, unabashed laugh that both surprised and delighted him. He couldn’t help but smile at her, waiting for her to stop.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiccupping as she tried to stop laughing, which only made her laugh harder. “Okay. Um…I like my steaks medium-well. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a smile before picking up the hotel phone.

After he had ordered, he crawled onto the bed next to her, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at her. She swallowed hard, trying not to get caught up in his eyes. She couldn’t help but find them mesmerizing. The bright blue hue seemed to take her in like a tractor beam.

“So,” he said softly. “Tell me something you wouldn’t normally tell a stranger.”

She gave him an odd look. “If I wouldn’t normally tell it to a stranger, why would I tell it now?”

“Because it’s either that or we can stare awkwardly at each other until the food arrives.”

She smiled slightly. “Um…okay…well…” She frowned slightly, thinking. “When I was ten, I decided it would be wise to sign my name in every book I owned.”

He smiled slightly. “When I was ten, I was so shy I could barely look anyone in the eye,” he said.

“You seem to have gotten over that now, though.”

“It took therapy. And electric shock treatment.” She gave him a wary look and he chuckled. “I’m kidding.”

She sighed in relief. “Oh.”

“About the therapy. The electric shock treatment was totally real.”

She laughed and he smiled, taking a hand and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He paused as she flinched. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replied quickly.

“Women don’t usually flinch when I touch them.”

“Touched a lot of women, have you?”

“I’ve had my fair share.”

“And then some,” she mumbled, looking away.

He slowly tilted her head back to look at him. “I haven’t had as many women as you’d like to think I have.”

“You’ve had a good portion of the girls at…at the company.”

“I’ve had maybe half a dozen, and that’s different.”

Her eyes went cold once more. “How is that different?”

“To me, there’s a difference between pure sex and actually touching someone.”

“And what makes tonight different from those other girls?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t know yet.” She swallowed, looking away again. He turned her head once more and looked into his eyes. “Do you want me to treat you the way I treat them? All sex and physical pleasure and no conversation?”

“I don’t know why I deserve any special treatment.”

“None of those women have gotten under my skin as completely as you have.”

She sighed. “Well, aren’t I lucky.”

He gave a frustrated sigh. “Would you really rather I didn’t bother? Do you just want me to rip your clothes off and fuck you all night?”

She couldn’t help the thrill that went through her at the desperation in his voice. “Don’t…don’t you want to?”

“Of course I want to. But I also know that if I do that, I’ll be crossing a line I’m not really ready to cross.”

“What line? It’s what you’re paying for.”

He sighed. “That’s the line I’m not really ready to cross.”

She arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it last night.”

“I didn’t know you last night.”

“You don’t know me now.”

“I’d like to.”

“Trust me…you wouldn’t.”

He moved closer, cupping her chin in his large hand, swiping a long finger over her lower lip. She shivered at the touch, a fine layer of goose bumps appearing over her skin. His lips lowered to hers and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her, but he just hovered there, taking her in before brushing his lips over her nose and eyelids.

“Tell me a secret you haven’t told anyone else,” he breathed into her ear.

She inhaled, the sensuality of his voice sweeping across her body like mink on bare skin. She licked her lips, trying to focus on anything but him. “I don’t have any secrets.”

He chuckled, teeth nibbling gently at her earlobe. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“I’m a very simple girl.”

“Again, I doubt that.”

“Think what you want.”

He looked down at her face again, and saw the walls building up. Her jaw was set, her eyes fixed on the ceiling. He sighed, letting his forehead fall on her stomach. Her reticence was almost frightening.

“How about I try to guess your real name?”

She smiled slightly in spite of herself. “You could try.”

“Would you tell me if I got it right?”

She scoffed. “If you get it, sure.”

“Will you give me clues?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Is it Rumpelstiltskin?”

She smiled, looking down at his face. “No.”

He bit his lip. “Is it Belle?”

“No.”

“Jasmine?”

“No.”

“Wendy?”

“No.”

“Cinderella?”

She laughed. “I’m not named after a Disney princess.”

He grinned. “You just gave me a hint.”

“Yes, well, I figured I’d nip that in the bud before you got to Timon and Pumba.”

He chuckled. “Alright…how about I ask you ‘yes’ and ‘no’ questions to guess.”

“No.”

“Come on, you have to give me something.”

She laughed again. “No I don’t.”

“At least tell me if it’s a common name.”

“What constitutes a common name these days?”

He shook his head. “You’re not going to let me enjoy this game, are you?”

She shrugged. “You can do whatever you like, however you’d like to do it.”

“What will it take for you to tell me your real name?”

“An act of God.”

“That’s vague.”

“So is God.”

He was once again struck by her intelligence. He wasn’t used to the type of easy banter he shared with her. He marveled at it, wondering once more how someone like her would end up in the type of job she had.

“What would you like to talk about?” he asked her.

She blinked, looking at him. She had never been asked that question before by a client. Usually, if there was talking involved at all, the client was the one who did most of the legwork. She had never been shouldered with the burden of pushing along a conversation.

“What would you like to talk about?” she countered.

“You.”

“Yes, well, that’s not a subject on which I’m willing to divulge much information.”

He smiled slightly. “Where did you go to school?”

Her brow furrowed. “Why is that important?”

“Because you’re incredibly smart.”

“It’s all for show, Mr. Scott.”

“It’s Josh.”

She sighed. “Let’s talk about why you seem so insistent on sharing your first name with me.”

“Considering you are so forthcoming with yours, you mean?”

“You know my name.”

“Marlowe isn’t your real name.”

“How do you know?”

“Because no one in their right mind would use their real name for your job.”

“Who says I’m in my right mind?”

He smiled slightly. “That’s a fair point.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Now are you eager to get to know me?”

“More than ever, yes.”

She sighed. “This is hopeless. I’m not going to tell you anything, Mr. Sco—”

She was cut off by his lips on hers, and she moaned at the aggression. He was just as unrelenting as he had been the night before, sweeping his tongue through her mouth and dueling passionately with hers. She gripped the back of his head, fingers plunging into his hair as his body shifted over hers. She could feel the weight of him on top of her and she couldn’t help but want to feel the same explosive pleasure that she had experienced the night before.

He pulled away as suddenly as he came, his eyes burning bright as he looked down at her. “Don’t call me ‘Mr. Scott’ again,” he breathed darkly.

“Or what?” she countered.

He leaned in to her ear. “Or I will dedicate the entire night to bringing you to the brink of orgasm so many times that you will be begging me to let you cum, and I won’t.”

She shivered in spite of herself. “And how are you going to stop me from finishing the job myself?”

He grinned wickedly. “I have my ways.”

She didn’t doubt him.

She looked at him in silence and realized she was panting. With one kiss, he had managed to reduce her to a puddle of sexual desire. She wanted him more than she had ever wanted anyone in her entire life and he hadn’t done much more than kiss her.

Warning bells were going off in her head but she was in no position to run away again.

JC watched her eyes. He had discovered that as much as she tried, the beautiful hazel-green orbs were the most expressive things about her. He watched, fixated, as a mixture of lust, fear and resolve flicked through them before settling on a cool disinterest.

“There are certain lines that we shouldn’t cross, Mr…Josh,” she finally said, stopping herself from saying his client name when she saw warning in his eyes. “You knowing my real name is one of them.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s a benefit to anonymity. For both of us.”

JC could appreciate that. However reluctantly.

“Alright. Tell me one specific, true thing about yourself and I’ll do the same.”

“I don’t particularly want to know something true about you.”

“Really? You’ve never been curious about the lives your clients lead? Wondering if they have wives, children? What type of careers do they have, maybe what their real names are?”

“It’s dangerous to start asking yourself those questions when you do what I do.”

He looked into her eyes, trying to figure out his next move. She was watching him, obviously trying to do the same thing.

“I’m not married,” he finally said. “I don’t have kids. I love my career but it’s not perfect. And Scott isn’t my last name.”

Kit tried to remain looking apathetic, but she couldn’t help the tiny flip her stomach did when he told her he wasn’t married. That was an incredibly dangerous feeling. She had to bury that quickly.

“That’s fascinating,” she said dryly.

“What can I say, I lead an exciting life.” She smiled wryly but remained quiet. He raised his eyebrows. “Your turn.”

She shrugged. “Married. Two kids. House in the suburbs. A mild-mannered accountant by day, high-priced hooker by night. And Scott isn’t my last name either.”

His eyes had gone wide when she had started but after her last sentence they narrowed. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.”

He gave her a withering look. “Is one honest piece of information going to kill you?”

“Why are you so keen to know about me?”

“You fascinate me.”

“You clearly don’t have a lot of other things to do with your time.”

“I would, but as I said earlier in the evening, you have a hold on me that’s incredibly distracting.”

She opened her mouth to speak but a knock at the door interrupted her. He reluctantly crawled off the bed and went to answer it. Kit exhaled slowly. She was running out of roadblocks to throw and she was quickly starting to wonder whether it would be such a bad idea to open up just a little to him.

She let herself fall back into the pillows, the scent of a well-cooked meal wafting through the air. She was hungry. Perhaps some food would give her the strength to resist his unique brand of charm.

She could only hope, anyway.