That’s probably a good point. I don’t like to go off-protocol like this, especially with a first-time client, and especially with such a notorious first-time client. I hope this guy doesn’t have a basement full of dead hookers. I know he killed some girlfriend a long time ago. I also know he asked a lot of very specific questions about me before booking me, so I hope he doesn’t have some weird murder habit, like he goes around seeking hookers who remind him of her. He’ll fuck me and then kill me after. I’ll be really pissed.
Scarface here is still waiting for my phone, so I reach into my bag and hand it over. He takes it apart and dumps the pieces on a gleaming end table along the wall. Then he points to the wall and tells me he has to pat me down.
“The guy outside did that already,” I inform him.
“I know,” he states.
Lot of free feels going on here tonight, but I brace myself against the wall and let this one feel me up, too. “Good thing I don’t charge extra for this,” I say, lightly.
He is not amused.
“Just kidding,” I assure him. “I get it. Gotta be cautious. Better safe than sorry.”
“Are you a nervous talker or just a pain in the ass?” he asks, his hands creeping up my bare thigh. This is a little awkward.
“Sorry, I’ll shut up.”
I wait for his hand to “slip” like some of these ass clowns, but he remains professional, switching sides and finishing up the thorough pat-down without being gross. That’s nice. It actually makes me feel slightly better about this whole thing.
“You’re good,” he tells me.
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” I assure him, barely missing a beat before adding, “Unless he’s not into that. Do you know if he’s into that? I’m not sure what he’s looking for.”
“One way to find out,” the man states, opening a tall, gleaming door and gesturing for me to go inside.
Of course he rented out a giant-ass suite. Not like I had doubts he was a high roller, but this hotel room cost more than my fee. Can’t these guys just get a simple room with a bed and give me the rest of the money they clearly have to waste as a tip?
Since apparently no one wants to give me any hints, I’ll just play it by ear. Girlfriend experience, so he probably likes familiar and friendly. Don’t want to strut in like a man-eater. A lot of powerful men get turned on by the woman taking the dominant role, but that idea dies a swift death the moment I lay eyes on Mateo Morelli in person. He oozes dominance, and strikes me immediately as a man who holds onto his power with a death grip; no one’s prying it away from him while he continues to draw breath, not even in the confines of the bedroom.
My stomach sinks a few levels as he turns to face me, his sharp brown gaze locking on mine. He doesn’t immediately check me out, look over the goods he’s rented; he merely holds my gaze until I’m forced to look away.
Well, I guess I’m not forced, but I get the impression he wants me to. He wants to see if I’ll submit or challenge him, and all my instincts tell me this one much prefers submission.
I absorb this new information and feed it into my character. Dropping my eyes demurely, I take a couple of tentative steps closer, then coax a sweet smile onto my face and meet his gaze again.
“Hello, Mr. Morelli. I’m Madison. The agency sent me. You probably—you knew that already.” A fraction of a laugh slips out of me. At least I don’t have to feign the uneasiness. That’s authentic as fuck. I just got here and I’m already dreading and looking forward to this fuck in equal measures.
He’s hot and scary, and I do like hot and scary.
He still doesn’t speak. He cocks his head very slightly and keeps watching me.
I think he’s trying to make me uncomfortable. Okay… so, maybe he wants me to be a bit timid? Maybe he wants to be the big, bad wolf? I think he already is, but I guess he doesn’t drop that in the bedroom, either. Some people want an escape in the bedroom, something different from their everyday. I guess he isn’t one of them.
Since I’m not sure what else to do, I aim to melt some of his reserve. My touch tends to warm men right up, so I take the rest of the steps toward him—he makes no move to meet me halfway, not so much as one single step—and offer my hand.
Amusement flickers in his gaze as he looks at the hand I’m offering. He does not shake it.