Everything He Wants (2 page)

I swallowed hard. Tried to open my eyes. I somehow managed to take a breath. I was still breathing.
Barely.
It was enough. I was alive, and this...this was very real.

I exhaled when the fingers on my clit parted my pussy lips. Now I was shaking, so much so that even I noticed. My teeth chattered. I clenched my jaw to keep them still. His finger moved again, gently slipping inside.

"Oh God..."

"That isn’t my name," he almost growled, pressing his palm against my clit as he thrust his finger even deeper.

"That’s because you hav—"

You haven’t told me.
He’d stolen the words from my lips.

"You’re very wet," he said, refusing to remove either of his hands from my body.

I thought I'd melt right then. My toes curled as small white specks flew outside my peripheral vision. If he kept going the way he was, I’d lose it—with or without him.

"You ready?"

Oh God, yes.
I didn’t answer, and I didn’t have to. He could read my body the same way I could read his own. Even if we had all the time in the world instead of half an hour each day, he knew.

We separated, and he made quick use of a condom before placing a hand on my hip.

Dizzy and disoriented, I forced myself to stand upright. I sucked in a lungful air, holding it.

My partner swayed his hips from one side to the other, positioning us as he bent his knees. Once he got me where he wanted, he hoisted me up into the air, gently lowering me back down against his hips. I wrapped one arm behind me, grabbing at his back for support as my other hand thrust downward, searching the air beneath me for the pleasure he promised to give.

I allowed my fingertips to glide over the top of his cock, sculpting it as I traced each of the veins that pulsed beneath them and the thin layer of latex between us. He moaned and turned us in a circle until we were facing a bare wall. He carried me over to the cool surface, sandwiching my body between the wall and his muscular frame.

Supported by him and the flat surface, I gingerly coaxed his shaft between my legs. He bucked, thrusting hard against me. I pressed both palms against the wall for some added support.

My partner thrust again, groaning as the tip of his cock entered my folds.

A soft moan passed over my lips as I released the breath I’d been holding since before we left the counter. Holding myself away from the wall with one hand, I used the other to trace circles around my clit.

His right hand slapped against the wall to balance us out before he thrust again. Lost in time, we rode against one another, moving in unison until he was buried to the hilt.

I exhaled, my voice squeaking as I tried to catch my breath. My lover’s voice rolled past his lips in a growl as he drove into me again. I screwed my eyes tight, concentrating on his thickness as he buried his cock deep inside me.

The first tremor of an orgasm shot through me as I tightened the circles around my clit. Assured I'd stay upright with the wall's help, I moved in time with him. Urging him on. To go faster. Hit harder. Deeper.
Not deep enough.

I pushed back when he thrust forward. At one point, we almost separated completely. We came together again, and that single thrust sent a new shockwave throughout my body.

He was close. We both were. And as his breath hit against my neck, he removed my hand from my clit so he could take over.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna..."

He groaned. Faltered. Picked up again.
Close.
So fucking close.

"F-faster," I begged.

Some days he teased me to the point of insanity, but not today. Today he did exactly what I’d asked, riding me hard.

"You’re close, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice barely reaching my ears. "Wait for me, wa—fuck!"

I bit my bottom lip and lost it. His roar of pleasure masked my own as we rode it out together. When I finally returned to Earth, we were both leaning against the wall. I couldn’t move. I didn’t speak, and I trembled from the gentle kiss on my cheek as he slowly transported me back to the kitchen counter. Then, like a dream, he set me down and backed away to get rid of the condom.

Once I was sure my knees wouldn't go out from under me, I dumped the contents of my mug into the sink.

"You aren’t going to drink it?" my client exhaled as he searched for his clothes.

"You know I don’t do that," I replied, resisting the urge to glance back at him. "Same time tomorrow?" I turned on the faucet, filling the mug with fresh water.

The side door to my apartment opened and closed, but I knew he’d come back. He always did.

After placing my mug in the microwave, I gathered my things off the floor. My next appointment would be arriving shortly, and unlike the orange spice tea I’d just had, my next client wasn’t a lover at all.

He was my ex.

B
y now, I was pretty used to the idea of men using me for my services. Hell, most of them pranced in, threw down their pay and had their way with me until whatever needs they had no longer existed.

Some talked, going as far as to treating me like I was their personal therapist. Others wouldn't say a word. Not even a thank you. Most of the time it depended as much on the day as whomever I was with.

Married men. Recently divorced. It made no difference to me. So long as they paid and left me standing, who was I to judge? Sure, some of them wore rings, but there were a fair few who remembered to take it off and hide it in their wallet. It didn't help, of course. The tan line from the ring was always there.

Luckily, my mystery lover wasn't any of these things. Not only did he not wear a ring, there was no evidence of him having one in the first place. But as kind as he was, I couldn't help wondering why. Why wasn't he married? Was it because he hadn't found someone yet, or did he just not care for the idea of being tied down?

He’d be the one to do the tying.

I sighed and brushed the knots from my hair. Out of all my clients, he was the one I knew the least about. He was also the only one I'd be more than happy to listen to, but the matter of if and when was completely up to him.

The other men who happened to walk through my door probably told me too much. If a ring on their finger wasn't enough, them admitting their disloyalty most certainly was.

Above all else, that was the part about being an escort I hated most. The pay was good, but at what price for the women these men supposedly loved? I hated their stories. Their lies. Some days they'd unload all they had. Other days they settled for a quick fuck and go on their way.

Not my orange spice. The only words I'd ever heard pass through his lips were in the midst of passion. Aside from knowing he'd be welcome in my bed, he was a complete mystery to me.

So when he arrived a few minutes early the next day, something heavy settled in the pit of my stomach. Always punctual, I could tell by the way he closed the door that something wasn't right.

A light touch on my shoulder and a warm bathrobe around my arms confirmed my suspicions. He'd covered me. Whatever he'd come for today, sex wasn't it. But if he didn't need my services, why did he come in the first place?
He has your number.
He easily could've called me to cancel. There was no reason he had to come and do so in person.

"I'm sorry I didn't call first," he said, keeping a hand on my shoulder. "But this was something I'd rather do in person."

If there was ever a time I wanted to look at him most, now was it. His voice was heavy, and I could've sworn there was a hint of regret.

"I apologize, but I cannot stay for our appointment this afternoon, but..." He exhaled, and the knot in my stomach wound a little tighter. "What are you doing tonight?"

What?
It took everything I had not to face him. In the time it had taken him to put the robe around my shoulders, something had changed. I couldn't place it, but something definitely felt off. I just hadn't decided if I liked it yet or not.

"Kira?"

"Hmm?"
He asked you a question, remember?
"Umm, not that I know of. Why?"

Was he rescheduling? Was he trying to figure out how late I left my door open to clients? I chewed my lip, and the longer it took for him to reply, the more restless I became.

Breathe, Kira. Remember to breathe.
It was impossible to take a breath with him in the same room.

When he finally spoke, his voice almost cracked. "Then, if you wouldn’t mind, I'd like to meet later this evening—but not here."

I swallowed hard. "But this is where I..."

"This is where you work, I know. However, that isn't my reason for inviting you elsewhere. I have an event I must attend, and I'm in dire need of a personal companion."

A companion?
Was he seriously asking me out...on a date? "I don't know if I should."

"Do you have plans?" He knew I didn't. I'd already said as much. "If money is an issue—"

"No, it isn't that...it's just..." I trailed off.

Yes, Kira, why don't you want to meet with him?
If he was asking me out, that meant I'd finally get to see his face. Learn his name.

There was no reason I could conjure up that would've been the truth.
Truth is...I want to go with you.

"Maybe I was being too forward," he said, pulling me from my thoughts. "But if you don't mind my saying, you and I both know business as an escort isn't entirely sound."

My body stiffened.

"I'm not going to out you. However, I don't think I need to tell you how dangerous this—what you're doing, especially from your own home—is. That said, would you be willing to offer your services outside the home?" He caressed my cheek. "It would be in a public place. Like I said before, I'm in need of a companion, and well..." I could almost imagine him shrugging to finish off the sentence.

I leaned into his caress and smiled. There was nothing wrong.
He just hasn't asked a woman out on a date in a while.
Either that or, like me, he had no idea how to handle our relationship when it didn't involve some of the best sex I'd ever had.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" I corrected myself before I could get a good look at him.

But it didn't help the fact I'd noticed the firmly pressed suit he had on. Fuck. I knew he was a businessman, but from the short glimpse I got of him, he not only wore the suit well, he looked damn-near perfect in it.

"Why yes, I suppose I am," he said with a playful lilt in his voice. "So, should I put you down as my plus one?"

Oh. My. God. I'd had dreams about this, but never in my wildest—

"Kira, I asked you a question."

I licked my lips. "I guess I could be persuaded."

"Good." He leaned forward to kiss the back of my neck. "The pay will be more than enough for your trouble." He set a card with an address on the counter beside me. "You'll find me at that address. Arrive at eight o' clock sharp, and I'll show you around."

"But what should I wear? How will I know who you are?"

"Wear what's comfortable. As for my identity, I won't be easy to miss." He drew the robe away from my shoulder, kissed it and then backed away. "Eight o'clock."

I nodded, which must've worked. The side door opened, then closed, albeit a little slower than usual. I smiled. I had a date. A
real
date. And, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say asking me out made him anxious as hell. It was kind of cute, but then reality set in. If I was going out on a date, that meant canceling my other clients, as there was no way I'd be able to give them my full attention.

There was no way I could bring myself to be with anyone else until I saw him again.

Hugging the robe around my arms, I headed into the living room to grab my cell. With any luck, I'd be able to reach my ex before he came knocking at my door. But after dialing his number, it went straight to voicemail.

Shit.
Knowing him, he was already on his way.
Please, please for my own sanity, make this one of his better days.

The last thing I needed was his usual bullshit at work to get me down.
No way in hell I'm coming off this high anytime soon.

Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

A
fter changing into something more casual, I sat on the sofa and waited for my ex to arrive. I knew there was no sense in calling him again. He'd come even if I got through and told him not to bother. It still amazed me how desperate he was to have me back, or rather, to take me back. Thing is, I didn't break up with him.

He was the one who had been unhappy, and yet, here we were, still seeing each other so he could have his daily dose of sex.

A new wave of nerves hit me as keys jingled outside my door. Unlike my other clients, my ex still had a key to my place. Like it or not, he was the closest thing I had to family in the immediate area and was still responsible enough to check on the houseplants when I went back home to visit my folks.

I didn't bother getting up to greet him. We'd stopped doing that a long time ago. Anymore, the pleasantries were a waste of time. Much like my nameless lover, my ex wanted things the exact same way. Every. Single. Time. And they were far from enjoyable as far as I was concerned.

I glanced at the cuffs on the cushion beside me and cringed. Once an item of pleasure, all I saw when I looked at them was him. His harsh words, and eventually, my dismissal. I don't know why I'd kept them for so long. The edges of the leather were frayed, but I guess that's what you get when you buy the cheapest pair available.
Thank you, Dennis.

I sat up and put on the best smile I could when he turned the corner. Windswept, his blond hair looked even worse than usual.
No doubt he rode his bike over here.
I rolled my eyes and hoped he hadn't noticed.

"Hello, kitty," he said, leaning in to kiss me on the lips.

I tried not to groan when I tasted alcohol on his tongue. "Drinking again?"

He shrugged and took off his jacket, letting it fall in the middle of the room. "A few with the boys."