I look at his suit pants and crisp white shirt. “Are you coming in too?”
“I’ll enjoy it more sitting where I can see the full view of what I’ve treated myself to this evening.”
He means me. My body. I’m the treat. Whoa.
He leads me out of the living room, and a wall of glass doors disappears with his one-word command: Open. The spotless panels move to the side, as if on a track, and the night breeze blows by my flushed cheeks. We step out onto the massive veranda and I’m taken with the view of the city. Lights and buildings stretch for miles, the dusky blue sky spreading behind it like a backdrop of a painting. The walls around the outdoor pavilion are all made of glass. Making me feel as if we are floating over Vegas.
Before me, sunk into the concrete ground, is a bubbling hot tub, the water aqua blue, lit from below. Steam rises from the water, inviting me in.
“Will anyone see me naked?”
“No,” he says, his jaw ticking. “We can see out, but they can’t see in.” He scowls. “Do you think I’d share you with the world so easily?”
Ooh. Possessive. I like.
Holding onto his arm, I lower myself down into the tub. The temperature is perfect, the water warming my body as the jets massage my back. As I rest back in the curved seat, I take another sip of wine. The cool air, the crisp, sweet drink, combined with the warm water is a heavenly sensation.
And having his gaze on me, admiring me, watching my naked body in the water is as sinful an experience as I’ve ever had.
I’m an open book, with the exception of one little secret that I’ve kept buried deep inside, hidden from my readers; I’m not as experienced in the art of lovemaking as my steamy novels would suggest.
If I was an ice cream flavor, I’d be vanilla—no kinkasaurus Rex, here. I just happen to be blessed with a vivid imagination.
I didn’t think about it until this moment, and now that I do, I realize it could prove to be a very big problem. Do I tell him now? Or wait and see if I am capable of playing by his rules, keeping up this charade that I’m equipped to be an escort?
I choose... wine.
I take another long, slow sip, calming my nerves with the sweet nectar and the enchanting view of the city.
He takes a seat in a sleek black lounge chair across from me. Kicking up his feet, he crosses his long legs at the ankles. He stretches out, bending his elbows and resting his hands behind his head. His gaze drifts upwards taking in the sky.
Then, it finds me.
I’m not sure how much coverage the bubbles are providing me. Heat rises in my cheeks, and luckily it can be explained away by the heat of the water.
But that’s not what has my breaths coming in heavier bursts, my heart beating harder, my face flushing further.
It’s him. The way he carries himself. The way he looks at me. The latent anger and power in every movement.
His gaze is hunger, possession, and something else I’ve not seen in the eyes of a man before. Perhaps it's because he’s older than I am, more experienced. Or maybe there's something very different about this man, something that sets him apart from the other billionaire playboys.
And I need to find out what it is. After all, I have a novel to write.
“So, what’s a guy like you doing without a date on a night like this?” I take another sip of wine. My hand moves through the water, my fingers trailing through the bubbles. “Surely you have your pick of women in Vegas.”
He breaks my gaze for a moment. Then, he’s back, his tone gruff. “I’ll be the one asking the questions tonight. Let’s start with this one—how did you come to be an escort?”
He stares at me hard, giving me the feeling of being a naughty little schoolgirl sent to the principal for lying. I swallow, hard. Waving a hand in the air, I dismiss his question. “Oh, you know... I’ve got student loans to pay and things of that nature.”
“You’ve got a lot of bills? Are you an over spender?” He raises a dark, chastising brow. A little trill of something like fear, but not quite, zings through me.
“Um… no.” You can’t spend what you don’t have. “Just, you know, trying to get ahead on the bills that I do have.”
His eyes lock on mine. A beat of silence echoes in the air. Then, he asks, “Katie. Are you really an escort?”
Without thinking, denial flows from my mouth. “Of course I am! You saw me with those girls. I mean... what else would I have been doing at a Sugar Daddies meeting? Looking for free food?” I give a choking laugh.
Retiring his lounging position, he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees. “If I were a betting man—which I’m not, that would just be a disaster as a casino owner—I’d say you’re lying.”
My heart picks up pace, tension settling into my muscles despite the massaging of the jets. “About what?”
“About being an escort. I don’t think you’re with the agency at all.”
His words make my hand freeze in the air, my wine glass hovering above the water. How does he know? Am I that obviously inexperienced? Or just a really bad liar?
He gives his head a decisive shake. “So you lied. But you’re a big girl, you can make your own decisions.”
My fear morphs into relief. I need the money. I want this night. “Okay, good, because I felt like we were really getting somewhere—”
He holds up a hand to stop me, cutting off my words. “I’m not finished yet.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“We can go forward with the agreement. But I don’t tolerate lying. It’s a transgression that I punish. Harshly.”
My throat suddenly feels tight, my mouth dry. My flight or fight instinct kicks in, hard. Do I hop out of this tub and run, naked as the day I was born, dripping wet, out of this penthouse apartment? Or do I wait and see what he plans on doing with me?
Again... I choose wine.
I take a sip. Swallow it down with my fears. “What do you plan on doing to me?”
“I’m going to take you over my knee and spank you like the naughty little girl that you are. Then, I’m going to make you part your legs for me so I can see how wet I made you.”
He slides back in his seat, reclining again. “But first, I’m going to let you sit there and watch your pretty face while you absorb this information. See how your cheeks flush deeper, and your eyes shine as the water tumbles over your breasts, the jets pulse your body, just knowing what you have coming.”
A ricocheting tremble rips through me at his words, making me visibly shiver. He enjoys seeing my reaction, I read it in his gaze.
I take the last little sip of wine. Place my glass on the edge of the hot tub. And wait.
He’s back to having his legs crossed, his hands behind his head. He says, “Tell me, Katie. Have you ever been spanked as a grown woman before?”
“I’ve never been spanked. Ever.”
Hunger flares in his gaze. “It’s a good way to establish boundaries. Enforce rules. And let you know who’s in charge here. And what I will and will not tolerate.”
Why does this turn me on? I’m going with it.
“Okay... sir.”
“Let me tell you what to expect, since you have so little experience. First, I’ll make you lay your naked, wet body over my lap. Then, I’ll spank your pretty ass until your curves are red and hot. Until you’re begging me to stop. And do you know what happens then, Katie?”