He eyed me for a moment, his countenance thoughtful. “Are you saying that people can’t be bought? Given all the fraud—”
“That’s not what I meant,” I interjected.
“What did you mean then?”
“Well, you can buy people, but all you’re getting in return is their agreement to honor a deal. There’s no thought, no emotion—”
“Are you saying money doesn’t make people happy?”
I uttered a caustic laugh. “Of course, it does, but what are you getting in return. There’s a big difference between being rich and happy and rich and content.”
The odd look he gave me had me wondering what went on behind those intelligent grays. “I’m sure with the right person, there could be feelings, emotion, correct?”
I got a strange notion that the conversation we’d started had somehow changed. Still, I was curious why a man like him would even be seen with a woman like me. He was much older, obviously smarter, and, judging by the expensive navy suit and crisp white shirt, rich. Yet, I got the distinct impression he lacked something.
“What would makeyouhappy right now, though?” his soft question pulled me out of my musings.
I stared at the counter for a moment, tracing the intricate designs of the marble top. What would make me happy? The million-dollar question I asked myself every day—with the same resolute answer. Family. The sense of belonging. Love. “Two hundred thousand dollars,” I laughed out instead. When I looked up, there was no return laughter or smile. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was just something appealing about the way he looked at me. If I didn’t know better, I could say it was care, affection—the type an ardent lover would lavish on the woman he adored—only, I was a stranger to him, someone he’d helped, thrice.
“What would you say if I gave you two hundred thousand dollars?” he asked, his tone soft, like the brush of a kiss.
I cocked my head to one side, studying him, looking for signs of idiocy. “To what end?”
He swirled the drink in his glass, staring at the contents as though it would provide the answer he sought. Then he turned fully to face me. “One night with me.”
I choked on the sip of water I took, spraying the liquid straight onto his thigh. “Oh, shit,” I coughed out while grabbing a handful of napkins to wipe his pants. “I’m sorry.”
“You know, if you wanted my pants off, all you had to do, was ask.” The corners of his lips twitched.
“W-what?” Startled, I widened my eyes, my hand stopping mid-wipe on his thigh and suddenly conscious of the firm muscle beneath my fingers. I withdrew my hand in haste.
He palmed my cheek. “I love the way you blush. You’re a beautiful woman.” The pad of his thumb rolled over my bottom lip. “One night, Princess?” His hand dropped away, yet the heat of his touch lingered.
Drawing in a deep breath, I asked, “you’re offering me two hundred thousand dollars to spend the night with you?” He nodded. The sincerity in his stare unquestionable. “I’m assuming that’s with sex?” His smile was deliciously sinful. Again, I searched his face for signs of stupidity. Who in their right mind would offer that much money for sex? “You’re not a serial killer, are you?”
His sudden laughter filled me with an insatiable longing to feel his fingers on my skin again, preferably between my thighs. God, what was this man doing to my thought process? I was beginning to sound like a desperate sex fiend.
“I’d like to say no. Proving it, however, would be difficult. And as appealing as the idea sounds in my head, I don’t think you’d be up for sex in public.”
I gulped down the sip of water I’d taken on a hasty swallow, just thinking of sex with a man like him. Every part of me burned at the thought. “No. You look like a man who can have any woman for free. Why pay me?” It was hard to believe this was happening. I couldn’t imagine what this gorgeous man saw in me that he’d want to pay a crapload of money to sleep with me. My tongue darted out to wet my lips, and judging by the way his eyes darkened as he followed its path, he definitely saw something he liked.
“Because I can.” His hand covered mine sitting on the counter. “I’m a serious man, Princess. Always. One perfect night with a stranger, no complications, no surprises. But.” His fingers feathered the sensitive skin of my wrist, and my pulse sprinted faster than a record-breaking Olympic runner. “Before you decide, I’ll allow you to ask me three questions.”
“Shouldn’t I be asking myself whether I would or could sleep with you? Those are two very different questions.”
He blinked, and a slow smile spread across his lips. Shifting, he leaned forward. So close, I could make out the darker ring to his gray irises. His gaze locked with mine, his hand slipped up my thigh igniting an immediate tremor at the base of my spine. Aroused, I quivered, my nerves liquifying. “Yet we both know...” He leaned closer still until his warm breath fanned my lips. “Those questions have the same answer.” Caught up in the mesmeric slither of his hand, I arched a brow. Instead of a reply, he angled his head until his lips brushed my ear lobe. My heart rate clocked a gazillion seconds per minute. I gripped the sides of my chair, fingers biting into the leather seat. “The sex will be good,” he murmured.
I gasped.Oh, my fucking God. His voice dripped with sexual heat, it slammed my nerve endings that shot down from my ears to my pussy, soaking my panties. My nipples hardened to painful peaks.Shit.My brain went into a complete nuclear meltdown. I had no idea which way to turn, what to do. He pulled back a little, and I lifted my eyes to him, pretty sure my mouth was hanging open.
His fingers skimmed my panties, and I bit my tongue to keep from groaning out loud. It took every ounce of control to stay still. “Is that for me, Princess?” I held my breath, staring at him. “Just a touch, and you’re wet. What would you do with my cock inside you?”
Up until this moment, I had no idea. Now.Yes, please.“I-I.” Stupidly, words defeated me. I was out of my element with this man, whose voice alone could trigger sexual indiscretions I’m sure women would pay for, just to come.
“Say, yes.”
Another slide of his finger over the material snagged all thoughts.Oh, God.I gripped his forearm, my nails digging into the rigid muscle beneath his suit jacket. I couldn’t even begin to understand what his actual touch would feel like, his skin against mine. I shivered, drawing in gulps of air to moisten my suddenly dry mouth. The heat of his hand on my thigh and the smell of his cologne, sandalwood with an underlying citrus potency, made me dizzy with want. My knees trembled. Had I been standing, I would’ve glided to the floor in a bundle of pure ecstasy.
A couple of seconds passed before his whisper caressed my ear, “Are you okay?” I couldn’t answer. He withdrew his hand to my knee and guided me back to sit up. When he slipped his finger into his mouth, my eyes widened. Whether, from shock or lust, I couldn’t decide, both still made my heart hammer, to say nothing of the lingering arousal. His smile, however, wicked in its rendition, warmed my body once more. “A taste of heaven awaits, I’m sure.”
