"You—"
He kissed me slowly and deeply, and I could taste myself on his tongue. It should have been weird. It should have bothered me. It just made me hotter. Wetter.
"What about you?" I asked when he pulled back. I could feel him, hard and insistent, against my thigh. "Don't you want?—"
"I want a lot of things." He rolled onto his back and pulled me with him until I was draped across his chest. "But tonight was about you getting comfortable. Getting used to my touch."
"I'm comfortable."
"Are you?" His hand stroked down my spine. "Because an hour ago you were terrified."
"I wasn't terrified."
"Liar." But he said it fondly. "You were scared. Maybe still are, a little. And that's fine. I can work with that."
I propped myself up on his chest, looking down at him. "You're being very patient for a man who supposedly can't control himself around me."
"Oh, I can't." His hand cupped my ass, squeezed. "But I also want this to last. Want you to crave it. Crave me."
"Confident."
"Determined." He pulled me down for another kiss. "By the end of ninety days, you're going to be addicted to this. To me. To the way I make you feel. To us."
I should tell him he was wrong. Should remind him this was just a transaction, just business. Instead, I kissed him back and let myself pretend, just for tonight, that this was something more.
We stayed like that for a while—kissing, touching, exploring. He mapped every inch of my body with his hands, finding sensitive spots I didn't know I had. Behind my knee. The curve of my hip. The small of my back. He then kissed, caressed, and even licked me all over.
"Stay tonight," he said eventually.
"That's not?—"
"It's in the contract. You sleep in my bed." His arms tightened around me. "Stay."
I should go back to my room. Should maintain some kind of boundary, some separation between this arrangement and real intimacy. But I was tired and satisfied. His bed was comfortable and warm.
"Fine," I said. "But I'm stealing the good pillows."
He laughed—actually laughed, deep and genuine. "Deal."
I settled against his side, my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was steady, strong, and reassuring.
"Katrina?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you."
I lifted my head. "For what?"
"For trusting me." His hand stroked through my hair. "I know that wasn't easy."
It hadn't been. Still wasn't. But somehow, lying here in his arms, I felt safer than I had with any other man.
"Don't make me regret it," I said quietly.
"I won't." He pressed a kiss to my forehead. "I promise."
I wanted to believe him. For tonight, I allowed myself the comfort to drift off with his hand in my hair and his warmth surrounding me. During the night, I didn’t have a single nightmare. No demons that reminded me that I was on borrowed time. Instead, I slept so well that I forgot that theman who held me was not only my boss, but the man who had purchased the use of my body for fifteen thousand dollars.
