Page 24 of The Plus One Pact

Okay. Maybe I need to try something different with her. Less pretending. More authenticity.

I respect that. But can I do it?

"Okay. No bullshit." I offer my hand. "I'm here, because you paid me, but now that I am here, I'm looking forward to the experience. I want to peel off that dress. I want to taste your nipples. I want to know what you sound like when you come. And I want to leave, knowing you're going to tell all your friends this was the best sex you've had in a long time."

"All ego."

A laugh spills from my lips. I can't help it. She’s right. "Part ego."

"What’s the other part?"

"You never enjoy your work?"

“At times.” She looks me in the eyes. “It will be the best sex I’ve had in awhile, but that doesn’t mean anything. I haven’t had good sex in years.”

“My ego.” I press my hand to my heart as if I’m wounded.

She smiles.

She likes some teasing. She likes that level of artifice. "I like learning what a new person likes. And I do find you attractive. I want to see you out of your clothes. I want to see your body stretched over mine.” How far can I push her here? Is she ready for I want to see you take my cock? No. That’s too much. I need to slow down. “But you’re the one who sets the terms. So, tell me. What do you want. How do you like it? I'll do whatever the fuck you like. However you like. As long as you like."

"For one hour."

"I don't watch the clock." That is true. Unless I have another client, I get the job done. Despite popular belief, if you're with a woman who knows what she likes, it's not hard to make her come. The men who struggle are the ones who aren't willing to listen. (Though I do admit, the process of finding what she likes—that can take a while. I typically suggest overnights for new clients).

"Teasing," she says.

My blood rushes south. I love teasing. A good thing. It's necessary in my line of work. But, fuck, with a woman who loves teasing—

Damn, it's sexy to make an in-control woman beg.

I run my fingers a soft touch. Enough she curls into the gesture. Enough she settles. "Will you show me, Ivy? Will you show me exactly how you like to be teased?"

"Do you like to play music?" she asks.

"Not this time."

So maybe next time. I'm not sure why I like the sound of it. Because she sees through me maybe. Because that never happens.

"I can lead." I try to find just the right mix of softness and hardness. To show I want her, badly, but I'm willing to wait until she's ready. "But I'd rather you show me how you like to be touched. To be teased."

"Do you kiss?" she asks.

It's a stereotype that escorts don't kiss on the mouth. Some don't. I do. "I love to kiss."

She takes a half step towards me. She stands a little straighter, so we're eye in eye. She's a tall woman, and she's wearing wedges. There is something sexy about her stature, her confidence.

Her.

Her green eyes meet mine. Her hand goes to my chest. First, her palm, flat against my suit jacket. Then her fingers roll over the wool.

Her eyelids flutter together.

Her lips meet mine.

A soft hint of a kiss. The taste of juniper and lime on her lips. Gin. It's never been my drink, but at the moment, I see the appeal.

She pulls back with a soft sigh, then she goes back in. Another brush of her lips. A little firmer. A little longer.