Page 9 of The Guardian and the Escort

“I can’t have you marking me. I just got a new dress, and it’s sexy as hell. It doesn’t leave much room for marking me anywhere.” She rolled her eyes, pulling out of my grip to get ready. “Jennifer is going to be so jealous.”

I watched her practically bounce in excitement over someone else’s feelings while I stood there wondering when my own became so inconsequential to her.

“Oh, don’t pout,” she admonished. “How about a quick blow job in the shower?”

“I want a divorce.”

I hadn’t even known the words were on the tip of my tongue, but I still remember the relief as soon as I said them. She’d been just as shocked as me. Just not shocked enough to stay home and try and fix it.

“What about a girlfriend?” Rose asked, pulling me back to the present.

“No.” She nodded, and I took the opening to return the favor and ask more about her. “What about you? A boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”

Her head cocked to the side, and I struggled not to fidget as she took her time studying me. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” I blurted, not wanting to give her a second to prod the thinly veiled lie. Hell, I didn’t want to look under the sheer sheet I tossed over the discomfort I felt when I wondered if she had a boyfriend. “I was just repeating your questions back to you. And it would be good to know if some boy is going to stop by.”

Her lips quirked up, and I held my breath, waiting for her to rip the cover off. “No,” she answered, letting my answer go by. “No boyfriend—or girlfriend.”

“Good to know.”

I finished the last slice of my apple and almost choked on air. She’d just finished running her finger through the last remnants of her peanut butter and brought it to her mouth. My hands fisted on the counter as I watched her slide the digit between her full lips. Blood pumped liquid fire through my veins, pooling low. My cock hardened in an instant, the memory of my dream more real than ever before.

I almost lost myself to the moment when her eyes slowly rose to mine. The gray sparked to silver with a devious glint. She knew exactly what she was doing. She knew I’d watch. Rose had the confidence of a woman who knew how to lure a man, but under that glint lay the same look she had when she handed me the apples. While she may know the mechanics of tempting, she didn’t have the experience to know if they worked. Which left her waiting for approval.

My body pulsed with the need to give it to her. I wanted it so much it terrified me. And I didn’t do scared. I did confidence because of my experience. I controlled everything in the room, including myself.

But right now, my control reached for the girl fumbling to hold on to it.

And I needed to snap it back.

“We should get going,” I practically blurted.

Her smile was soft and knowing.

“Okay.” She whirled around, her robe flaring dangerously high, and threw away our plates. “Make sure you wear something sexy, but sophisticated. The Berkshire doesn’t let just anyone in,” she said playfully.

“Noted.”

With that, she—thankfully—left the kitchen, finally allowing me to relax the tenuous grip I had on my control since I got home.

Rose may not have experience, but she was testing her knowledge on me, and if she kept it up, she would get more experience than she bargained for.

Chapter Four

ROSE

Corbin lived just on the edge of the city, where the rich had snatched up the land and built mini-mansions before it got swallowed up by high-rises. It didn’t take long to get to The Berkshire from there, but the drive lasted forever.

“Have you ever been?” I asked, breaking the silence for the first time since we got in.

“Only a few times. Mostly for meetings. I’d never needed the use of an escort, though.”

I huffed a laugh. “I’m sure you didn’t. Although, I bet they would have loved a chance.”

He didn’t confirm or deny, but when I looked over, his mouth twitched, and he shook his head.

With his non-answer, we fell back into silence for the rest of the drive.

I took the time to build my confidence—to stack bricks along my wall and add supports. I’d spent years reading books and watching videos, trying to emulate the actions—trying to live up to my father’s words. Make up for stature with big confidence and strength. Don’t give anyone an inch to doubt you’re not bigger than me inside. Inside is where games are won.

And I planned on winning.

It was this moment here, where I took back what was rightfully mine, that I imagined when I first tried on the suit I wore. I’d looked in the mirror and felt sexy and strong—powerful. I embraced my femininity, forgoing a shirt or bra under the jacket, and my boobs looked great, barely concealed behind the deep vee.

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