But again, that flame of desire has begun to curl in my pelvis, and as I watch Tate’s muscular back move, my mouth goes dry. What if I love every minute of being with this man? What if he fucks me senseless twice a day, and I can’t get enough? Because that’s what it would be: pure sex, and not love.
But sometimes a girl needs a thorough bang, and when I look up, Tate’s watching me like a predator stalking its prey. Those blue eyes are intense, his jaw firm, and suddenly I realize just how male he is. But when he speaks, his voice is deceptively light.
“Good Laurie,” he says. “I’m glad you said yes, because we’ll start tonight.”
I blink startled. Tonight? But then a warm wave washes over me and my thighs clench again. The truth is that I can’t wait for a night of pleasure in his arms.
5
Laurelin
* * *
With shaking fingers, I look at myself in the mirror. I’m clad in nothing but my lacy bra and panties, and they don’t hide much. These will be fine, right?
After all, Tate probably romances supermodels and socialites groomed to within an inch of their lives. And yet, here I am. Thank god my lingerie is decent. I like wearing dainty, pretty underthings because they give me a shot of confidence, even if on the outside I’m clad in plain jeans and a sweater. But is it okay? Am I sexy enough for the gorgeous billionaire?
Critically, I look at myself in the mirror and fluff out my blonde strands. After we struck our deal, Tate led me upstairs to a spacious suite on the second floor, decorated in creamy whites and pale blues. The bed is a soft, enormous four-poster; a huge antique wardrobe dominates the east wall; and even more surprising, it’s full of fluffy white robes. “For guests,” Tate said with a wink. I can imagine he has plenty of those--female ones, to be specific.
But I can’t be judging him, seeing that I said yes to this dirty deal. As a result, I merely shrugged and smiled as he left me alone to get ready. Now, I’ve showered, and it felt really good. After all, my apartment with Rachel doesn’t always have hot water, and sometimes the water runs rust-brown for a couple of minutes, which is really gross. By contrast, this suite boasts a luxury rainshower and, beside it, a porcelain clawfoot tub that could fit a giant (or two). I may have stayed in the shower for a tad longer than necessary, but hey, I’m not the one paying the water bill.
With a guilty pang, I realize that I haven’t told Rachel where I am yet. She’ll be expecting me home soon to feed Toodles, and will be irate at being stuck with my cat for so long on her own. I’m so sorry, Toodles, I think, hoping he’ll hear me through some pet-owner telepathy. Rach will take good care of you for a few days, until the spell wears off and I come to my senses. You like her, remember?
I grab my phone from my jeans pocket and text my roomie. Hey, lady! I’m staying at Channing’s for a few days to plan a charity ball (gag). Do you mind watching Toodles? I’ll Venmo you some money.
Almost immediately, she replies, Keep your damn money. Just steal some good booze from your brother’s stash and bring it home to me.
I laugh. Rachel is a midwife, and while she loves her job, she definitely appreciates a strong drink after some of her shifts. Will do, I respond. Feeling especially guilty, I stash my phone in the nightstand beside the bed. Hmm, this is another problem. I have the newest iPhone with an expensive case, so how will I explain that? I’ll try to keep it out of sight, so it doesn’t raise any suspicions. Or I could say I stole it, but the lie curdles on my tongue. Damn, this is getting to be more complicated than I thought.
Plus, I can’t believe that Tate wants me to wear nothing but lingerie when I’m in his house. My jaw practically dropped to the floor when he stated his condition.
“Excuse me?” I stammered.
The handsome billionaire merely shrugged like it was no big deal.
“I appreciate women’s bodies, and you have a delectably curvy one, sweetheart. I’d like to see you in nothing but the tiniest scraps of lace, if possible.”
My mouth snapped shut then as my eyes bugged out. This guy really is a perverted asshole! But the thing is that I was turned on by the idea. I’ve never been so naughty before, and the idea of prancing around in front of the handsome man wearing nothing but the tiniest bits of lace titillates my imagination. As a result, here I am now, clad in nothing but bits of silk that barely hide my assets. Hell, they don’t hide my assets. I know my nipples are shadowy beneath the white fabric, and the vee of my pussy lips is outlined by the tight material of my panties.