Escorted (29 page)

It was
emotion
.
He couldn’t express it in words, but she could feel it pulsing through him. And
it thrilled and terrified her both.

Ander pushed
her backward enough to give his lips access to her chest. He hungrily mouthed
his way down to her breasts and suckled through the fabric of her top.

Lori let her
head fall back and moaned helplessly, as her need built up even higher.

On the verge of
losing control, Lori pushed him away and then grabbed his head again to capture
his mouth in another kiss. This time, they both moaned deep in their throats as
they groped and frantically rubbed their bodies against each other.

“Ander,” Lori
gasped at last, afraid that Ander or her own need for him would completely
devour her. “Do you want to go to bed?”

One of Ander’s
hands had pushed in between her thighs and was cupping her groin through her
pants. “Oh, fuck, Lori,” he gritted out as she ground herself against his hand.

“Ander?” She
clawed at the back of his neck but tried to rein in her desires so she could be
there in any way Ander needed.

“Lori,” Ander rasped,
staring into her eyes for a moment with such naked longing she couldn’t
breathe. Then he claimed her lips again with a low groan.

She whimpered
as his kiss grew deeper and more ravenous. When a flare of terror shot through
her, she broke away. Momentarily, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to deal
with the depth and intensity of Ander’s need.

Losing her
lips, he buried his face in her hair. She heard him inhaling deeply. Like he
was smelling her hair. Smelling
her
.

The sound
dispelled the surge of fear and she took his face in her hands one more time. “Ander,
do you want to go to bed?”

She was so used
to his always asking her what she wanted, letting her guide all the
decision-making, that this new dynamic was hard to process. But she waited as Ander
managed to compose himself enough to answer.

He said
gruffly, “Yes. I do.”

Before Lori
could reply, Ander adjusted her body, heaved himself up, and then lifted her up
into his arms. She clung to his neck, startled and unsteady and a little
exhilarated.

He carried her
to his bed, laid her down, and immediately moved over her, parting her legs to
give himself space and lowering his face for another kiss.

She clung to
him, wrapping her legs around his hips and holding onto him as tightly as she
could. They kissed frantically for a couple of minutes. Then Ander started to
pull off Lori’s clothes.

He didn’t waste
time with foreplay or delicacy. He bunched up her shirt and swiftly maneuvered
it over her head. Then he yanked on her pants and panties. He fumbled with her
bra until he managed to yank it off.

She’d never
seen him this uncontrolled. This lacking in skill and consideration. It did
nothing to diminish her desire for him, however. Instead, it further fed her
own need.

She clawed at
his clothes, futilely trying to undress him as he worked on hers. When she was
naked, Ander helped Lori with his buttons and belt and zipper. Together, they
pushed off his shirt, trousers, and boxers—tossing them sloppily onto the floor
with Lori’s clothes.

Ander was fully
erect, and Lori reached out greedily to squeeze him with both hands. He grunted
and jerked his hips against her touch.

While she
fondled his cock, he slid his hand between her thighs and penetrated her with
two fingers. Her passage was wet and aching and it fluttered a little around Ander’s
fingers. Lori moaned with embarrassing abandon.

Something in Ander’s
eyes ignited, even as his body remained coiled with that same agonizingly
leashed tension. He pushed her thighs apart and situated his hips between them.
Lori waited in breathless anticipation while he aligned his cock at her
entrance.

He’d actually
begun to penetrate her when he jerked his pelvis back with a strangled sound.
“Fuck! Condom.”

Lori couldn’t
believe she had almost forgotten. Couldn’t believe
Ander
had forgotten.

Ander held
himself perfectly still and took a few agonized breaths. Seeing his condition, Lori
rolled out from under him. “I’ll get them. Are they in the nightstand?”

“No. My case.”
Sweating and with a slightly glazed expression, Ander gestured toward the
familiar leather case that was set on the floor near the closet.

Vaguely
surprised that he didn’t keep condoms in the drawer of his nightstand, Lori
scrambled off the bed and ran over to grab a few foil packets out of his case.

When she
returned to the bed, Ander was still holding himself with rigid control. So she
opened the condom and reached over to stroke his hard cock. He sucked in his
breath as her fingers brushed against his distended flesh. Then she carefully
rolled the condom down over his length.

Ander released
another groan as he settled himself once more between her legs. This time, he
didn’t hesitate. Just lined up his cock and slid himself home with a long
thrust.

Lori cried out
and arched up at the sudden, thick penetration. He felt so good, so full, so
deep that she whimpered and wrapped her legs around his hips, trying twice to
hook her ankles to keep her clasp on him secure.

Ander eased his
arms under her shoulders, holding her in an embrace as his mouth found hers once
more. Their kiss was deep and sloppy as Ander began to pump his hips.

Lori squeezed
him with her arms, her legs, and her pussy. Held him as tightly as she could.
Couldn’t keep herself quiet as emotion, pleasure, and exquisite tension built
up inside her—so hopelessly tangled together she would never be able to sort
them out.

Ander kept
trying to kiss her, but his intensifying thrusting kept tearing their lips
apart. He grunted, much louder and more primitively than usual. Each time he
drove into her, bumping their groins together, he released another rough,
guttural sound.

The sound of
his lack of control pushed Lori’s pleasure even higher. The sensations from
their urgent rocking bodies, his cock rubbing roughly against her inner walls,
and his greedy mouth and tongue moving against hers all collected into a deep
pressure at her center.

She was close
to orgasm. And with every push of Ander’s tight body, shaking the bed and her
with it, she got closer and closer.

His heat, his
need, and his tension overwhelmed her, blurring her vision and throbbing
through her veins. She’d never seen him like this. Never felt him like this.

Never felt like
this in her life.

She arched her
spine as her pleasure started to crest. Instead of closing all the way, her
eyes flew open on a taken breath.

And, in that
rawest moment, she saw everything in Ander’s eyes. Heat and need and
helplessness and rage and desire and loss and primitive power. All of it,
there, in his eyes.

And she
knew—she
knew
—he needed this even more than she did. She knew that this
was his only channel, his only outlet, his only lifeline against the desperate
turmoil of his pain. He wasn’t just finding pleasure or escape in her body. He
was finding something lost in himself.

She came on
that knowledge, crying out helplessly from the shattering edge of her pleasure,
of her need and his.

Ander choked,
“Oh fuck! Oh Lori!” as his hips jerked hard against the tightened clasp of her
channel. In the blurred aftermath of her release, Lori was conscious of Ander’s
face twisting in a losing battle for control.

Then he cried
out too, roughly and right in her ear, as he pushed through the last of his
leashed tension.

She’d never
heard him so loud, so completely out of control. She didn’t think he said
anything in that loud exclamation. But he did the moment afterwards, as his
whole body pulsed with his coming and his hips twisted wantonly, grinding his
groin against hers. She heard the rasp of his voice, soft and too low to
distinguish. She felt his breath against her ear but didn’t hear the words as
he spoke them with the crash of his climax.

It was only a
moment’s frustration as her body became to soften beneath his. She clung to
him, just as tightly as before, already hating the moment when he’d pull out of
her.

He didn’t move
immediately. His head tilted down so he could press kisses against her throat. Lori
arched into them, arched into the hot, damp press of his weight.

She knew their
coupling tonight had been different than anything they’d shared before. She
loved the feel of that difference, loved the way Ander had reached out to her
in naked need.

But she didn’t
know what it meant. Or even if she should pay him for tonight.

A flutter of
fear awoke in her chest as she started to process the reality of her feelings
and the hopeless trap in which she’d tangled herself by falling for the man she
paid to fuck her.

“The condom,”
she said hoarsely, pushing gently against his shoulders to get him to roll off.

Ander didn’t
move immediately. He lay on top of her until he could no longer ignore her
nudging. Then he held the condom in place and pulled his sated cock out of her
with a groan. He was about to get up from the bed when Lori stopped him. “I’ll
get it.”

She needed to
get away from him for a minute, so she hurried into his bathroom. After
throwing away the condom, she turned on the water in the sink. Washed her hands
and then splashed water on her hot, red face.

She tried to
breathe deeply as she stared at herself in the mirror, her heart churning with
confusion and fear, reluctance and something akin to joy. A stranger with
mussed hair, glowing cheeks, damp skin, and wild green eyes stared back at her.

She wanted to
run away, to get away from the foreign intimacy of Ander’s apartment and go
home to crawl under her own covers where it was safe. But Ander was waiting for
her in bed. And he’d been emotionally ripped to shreds this evening. He’d said
he wanted her to stay.

She couldn’t
leave him alone.

So she steeled
her courage and returned to the bed, where Ander was sprawled out, half under a
sheet. His body was relaxed and his face looked warm and a little groggy. But
his blue-gray eyes were knowing and observant as he watched her approach.

“It’s after
twelve,” he said. “You can leave if you want.”

She wondered if
part of him wanted her to leave. It didn’t matter. She knew that wasn’t what he
needed. So she turned off the lights, crawled under the sheet beside him and
pressed her body up against his. “I’m tired.”

With a long
sigh, Ander wrapped an arm around her and adjusted her more comfortably at his
side. “Me too.”

That was all
they said. She rested her head on his chest and idly stroked his belly until
her eyes drooped.

Ander wasn’t
asleep. He was relaxed but still conscious. Even on the edge of sleep, she
liked the way he held her, as if she were cherished, as if he wasn’t going to
let her go.

She fell asleep
that way, and she didn’t wake up until morning.

She was still
snuggled up against Ander, her cheek hot from where it was pressed against Ander’s
skin and her arms stiff from the awkward position they’d settled in. She felt
cozy though. Protected. Utterly safe.

When her mind
started to clear, she remembered what had happened the night before. She lifted
her head and saw that Ander was asleep, his eyes closed, his features soft, and
his breathing slow and even.

She watched him
for a minute and was tempted to press a kiss against his mouth.

But it was
morning now. The sun was streaming in through the windows. And she couldn’t
hide in delusions or excuses anymore.

So she gently
extricated herself from Ander’s embrace. Every time she drew away, he mumbled
something and unconsciously tried to pull her back in place. She was flustered
when she finally managed to get out of the big, antique bed.

She grabbed her
clothes and ran into the bathroom. Stared at the wild-eyed, wild-haired
stranger in the mirror again.

Lori Addison.
Six months ago she’d been a virgin, and now she was crazy about her gigolo.

She’d been
resisting the truth ever since she felt its presence—since it would mean that
everything had to change— but she couldn’t pretend anymore.

For too long,
she’d looked forward to her time with Ander, enjoying the pleasure, intimacy,
companionship, and satisfaction while ignoring everything else.

But she’d taken
willful ignorance as far as it would go.

She couldn’t be
Ander’s client anymore.

Lori stood next to the front
desk of the hotel in which she and Ander had spent so many evenings, waiting
for the assistant manager to return with her overnight bag.

She’d left it
there three nights ago. After checking into the room, she’d dropped off her
things—her lingerie and toiletries—on the assumption that she and Ander would
return to the room after ice skating. She’d thought she was being very
practical and efficient, avoiding the necessity of lugging the bag around with
her, but they’d never made it back to the hotel. And she’d completely forgotten
about it until a member of the hotel staff called to let her know they were
holding the bag until she could claim it.

It felt odd—being
in the hotel again. Every detail of the marble entryway floor and the elegant
décor of the lobby was familiar. But she doubted she’d ever reserve a room at
this hotel again. It reminded her of Ander.

Who hadn’t
replied to her email.

Telling him
that she could no longer engage his services had been painful. He’d been awake
and sitting up in the bed when she returned from the bathroom that morning. And
his eyes were knowing and wise.