in place. Fun times.
The streaming hot water beat against my back, relaxing me, and my thoughts wandered to Emmy. She was proving to be quite the contradiction.
Some girls were model-fuckers—willing to drop their panties as soon as they heard my profession. Others were intimidated and self-conscious, assuming they’d never be good enough to be with a model. Both types annoyed me.
Emmy was neither. Her self-confidence wasn’t as robust as it probably should be; I sensed some of that was from Fiona’s hurled insults. But, mostly, I was attracted to her uncanny ability to keep me guessing.
Since I was pretty sure that fucking me wasn’t number one on her agenda, her behavior confused me. She was flirty and sexy through text, polite and professional at work. Distant, even.
If I had to put my finger on it, I’d say she was most interested in being friends. And while I might have thought having her as a friend was a good idea initially, I didn’t really
I’d never had to work to get a girl in my bed. The thought was almost laughable. Almost. If my balls weren’t fucking aching at the thought of waiting, it would be funny. That wouldn’t do. I needed to have her.
After several long minutes, I reluctantly shut off the water and climbed out of the glass-enclosed shower. I wrapped a towel around my hips, tossing another across my shoulders. Emerging into the bedroom, I rubbed the towel across my face but the feeling that I wasn’t alone caused me to pull the towel away. Fiona sat on the edge of my bed with a wide, cocky grin.
“You were brilliant today.” Her eyes traveled down my naked chest before coming to rest on mine.
“Thank you.”
Crossing the room to the bureau, I grabbed a pair of boxers, a T-shirt, and jeans. The sound of Fiona’s soft laughter filled the silence. I pulled the shirt over my head and turned away from her, letting the towel drop to the floor. It wasn’t like Fiona hadn’t seen my bare ass before. I pulled on the boxer briefs and heard her softly padding across the room to stand behind me. Her hands came around my middle, encircling my waist as she pressed her breasts into my back.
“Love,” she whispered. Her voice was a desperate plea, full of longing.
“I’m tired, Fiona.” I removed her hands from where they’d been caressing my abs and turned to face her.
The clouded look in her eyes fell away as she snapped her gaze to mine. “Of course. You worked hard today. Dinner’s on the way and then I can give you a massage after. We’ll see if we can get you to sleep tonight.” She offered a weak smile.
I merely nodded. I’d been hoping to text with Emmy again tonight. Maybe even pay her a visit, see if I could get beyond that exterior she tried to put up. A quick glance past Fiona to the clock told me it was only eight. She should still be up for a while.
A knock at the door broke our eye contact. Fiona let in the room service while I pulled on my jeans.
We sat on my bed and dined, as we had so many times before in cities around the globe. Even the meal was familiar—grilled fish and vegetables, wine and sparkling water. God forbid there be fat or carbs involved.
Fiona’s mouth moved sensually while she ate, gliding over the tines of her fork. Her eyes stayed on mine. She was an attractive woman, despite our sixteen-year age difference, I found her appealing. Then again, I found things to appreciate about all women. Their frilly panties, their little manicured toes, the curve of a lower back, their scent. Yes, I loved women. Just looking at them, admiring them. Maybe it was because of my chosen profession that I was aware of all their beauty.
I’d spent countless hours with my mom’s old issues of
Brunette, blonde, redhead, olive skinned, or freckled, I found beauty in it all. And I didn’t discriminate. Sure, most of my female companions were models, but I attracted more than my fair share of attention from other girls, too. I’d messed around with girls in my teens years, at first a little shy and fumbling, but as I learned their bodies, I grew confident. And after I lost my virginity at eighteen, my sexual appetite increased dramatically. Much to Fiona’s dismay. She regularly reminded me how much my interest in other girls displeased her. And since she was more than just my boss—she was a family friend—I tried my best to keep her happy. I think I’d been blown on every continent as a result. Quick indiscretions were easier. Plus, there was no girl to try to get out of my hotel room later on.
Of course, now just twenty-two, almost twenty-three, I already felt jaded. Being alone was just easier. I’d never had a girlfriend, never really wanted one. And it was clear Fiona wouldn’t take well to the idea. Not that it should bother me, but it did somehow.
We finished our meal and Fiona removed the dishes, setting them outside the door to be picked up later. “Shall I get your pills?” she asked.
“Sure.”
She returned a moment later with the few bottles, shaking the pills out into my hand. No matter how much trouble she was, she really was good to me. I dutifully swallowed down the handful.
“I can rub your back if you like,” Fiona said.
A massage sounded heavenly, but I had other plans tonight. “No, that’s okay.” I didn’t want to straight up ask her to leave, but I wasn’t above doing it if she didn’t take my subtle hints.
Fiona frowned and shifted a step toward the door. “Well, I guess I’ll go then.”
I nodded and walked her to the door. “Night, and thank you for dinner.”
“Of course.”
She kissed both my cheeks before heading out.
It was almost ten and I wondered if Emmy was asleep. She’d said before that I could text her if I couldn’t sleep. I wondered if that offer still stood, since she also told me we needed to keep things professional from now on. Too bad I had no plans of letting that happen.
A few minutes later, I’d brushed and flossed and crawled between the sheets with my phone. Flipping off the bedside lamp, the bluish glow from my phone illuminated the keypad enough to type.
I hit send and set the phone on my stomach, laying back to stare at the ceiling. I wondered if she’d be bold and return my text. Or if I’d be able to get to sleep tonight. Several long seconds later my phone chimed. The sound made me smile. She wasn’t immune to me, despite what she’d said.
I grinned. Already I felt better. I could just hear her sweet southern accent drawing out the greeting. It was crazy how one simple word with several extra vowels could make me so happy.
I smirked. Oh yeah, she wanted it. She might try to deny it and act uninterested, but I knew the truth. I could read her like a book.
I knew it was crass, but something in me liked taunting her, wanted to see how she’d react. To my surprise, several seconds later a dark, grainy photo appeared. Emmy was dressed in a white tank top that was pulled low on her chest, exposing several inches of creamy smooth cleavage. I wanted to stick my face in between those beauties and smother them with kisses.
