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Authors: Holly S. Roberts

Tags: #General Fiction

BOOK: Sizzle
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“Say what’s on your mind,” I tell her with a little push in my voice. I drop my hand and step back to give her space. This isn’t like me either. I have no problem invading an escort’s personal space and keeping her off balance.

Her tongue glides over her top lip. My balls tighten and more blood travels to the head of my cock.

“I’d rather get it over with if you don’t mind,” she says softly.

I’m struck speechless for a second until a brief laugh escapes me. It ends on a strangled growl. No escort has ever told me she just wanted to get
it
over with. The longer they stay, the bigger the tip, or at least that’s the way this usually works. Celina has a lot to learn. Forget about the stupid Ce Ce name she prefers. She’s Celina now. I move in closer. It’s time to see what she’s made of.

“Go to your knees,” I command without touching her.

She hesitates, though her knees dip just a bit. The heels make it awkward when she finally decides to go all in. I don’t help her. Her hands rest flat on her thighs when she’s in position.

She gazes up and I’m caught in another wave of lust. “Unzip me,” I manage to say without the desperate quality in my voice that I feel. I want those lips sucking and sliding over me.

She looks into my eyes as her fingers move to my belt.

“No, just the zipper.”

Her hands jerk away like the belt sizzles. I almost laugh again. She’s such a novice, and I can’t help but wonder again what brought her to this. Her eyes shift to what she’s doing. She finds the metal tab and slowly slides the zipper down.

Inch by inch.

I’m commando, and my cock is trapped by the waist of my pants. She looks up at me with a quizzical expression.

“Take me out,” I groan.

Her naïveté turns this sinfully erotic. Hot, long fingers with short but manicured nails wrap around me and suddenly I’m free of the material. I’m big and never needed a woman to tell me so. But her expression is priceless.

“Place your palms back on your thighs.” It sucks that I can’t see her slit. The string thing she’s wearing doesn’t cover much, but the jewel of her pussy is hidden. The thought of her plump pussy lips is killing me.

Her palms return to her thighs and her eyes back to mine.

“Keep your lips closed.” She obeys as I take my cock in hand and push the head of it across her cheek where I touched her earlier. She closes her eyes and I allow it for now. I slide my dick to her lips and the sight of my pre-cum moistening her red pouting mouth almost makes me grab a handful of her hair and force my cock to the back of her throat. Almost. We’re not going there yet. She just doesn’t know it.

A knock at the door to the suite makes her eyes snap open. I continue rubbing the head of my cock across her mouth. “He’ll wait.” I pull back half an inch. “Lick your lips.”

Fuck me but her tongue is gorgeous against the tip of my cock. It’s me who closes my eyes this time. It’s the only way I can control myself. I finally step back, stuff my throbbing dick back inside my pants, and very carefully zip up. I peer down and give her a partial grin before placing my hand out. Her fingers meet mine and they’re ice cold. I haven’t soothed her fears in the least. I remove my shirt and hand it to her. “Put it on, remove the panties like I asked the first time, don’t button the shirt, and join me in the front room when the waiter leaves.” I drop her hand, step past her, and walk through the bedroom door closing it behind me.

We’ll see if she runs now.

Chapter Four

Celina

WITH NUMB, TREMBLING FINGERS
, I slide the panties over my hips and let them drop to the floor. Next I slip my arms into his shirt and inhale the scent of him. I’m half turned on and half pissed off. He has me tied in knots. He’s scary and sexy and thrilling. I can’t help wondering if he makes women think slutty thoughts any time he’s around.

Of course I don’t want to be here or to do this, I try to tell myself. Whatever
this
turns out to be. I need money. He likes oral, or at least that’s what his file proclaimed. I can do oral. I will suck his cock, get him off, and leave. This should be a blessing. Oral is less intimate. It doesn’t matter that I feel dirtier just thinking about it.

I can pretend what I’m doing is legal and call myself a paid escort. It’s a lie. I’m whoring my body for cash. He’s offering three grand to put his cock down my throat. I kick my panties away, grab the escort cell phone from the bathroom, and open the bedroom door just as the front door of the suite closes.

Alex, his name sounds civilized, but God his magnetism is primal. He’s uncovering one of the dishes and glances up as I walk out of the bedroom. I’m in my heels and his unbuttoned shirt. Nothing else—exactly as he requested. I’m suddenly determined to earn every penny he’s offering.

His eyes all but fuck me. He has no problem devouring the body he’s paying for. I lift my chin a tad. His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smile, he just grants me a nod of approval. He’s the client and I need to accept this for what it is—a monetary transaction for sex.

“I ordered you grilled chicken and a salad. I hope you don’t mind.”

In truth, if I eat anything, it will come up. “Thank you,” is all I say.

He pulls out my chair and I sit down and rest the agency cell phone next to my plate. His left arm is bandaged and the white gauze is a striking contrast to his bronzed skin. I’m too uncomfortable to ask what happened. He moves my hair over my shoulder so it’s not covering the tops of my breasts. I’m guessing he likes the vision of me mostly naked in his shirt. He takes the seat across from me and pours us each a glass of white wine. That, I can handle. I lift my glass and he does the same.

“To new beginnings,” he says as his glass clinks against mine. The pain flashes through his eyes again. It leaves me with the strangest feeling. I’m drawn to it. I want to soothe whatever affects him this deeply.

I think about the toast. New beginnings. I hope someday I can put this all behind me. I wonder if whatever troubles him can be put aside too.

He uncovers his dish, which is the same as mine. “Tell me something about yourself,” he requests. His English is flawless with a slight touch of his Hispanic heritage in the tone. He’s acting so casual, like I’m not sitting on pins and needles in nothing but his shirt waiting for him to send me to my knees.

I’m unraveled and the last thing I’m prepared for are personal questions. It never occurred to me that anything other than fucking would take place with a client, which is really stupid. “I, well, I’m…”

His sexy laugh makes me clench my thighs together. “Make something up if you must. I just want to hear you speak,” he says in his raspy voice that buzzes across my skin. God I’m wet, and I fear I’ll stain his shirt if he doesn’t stop… being him.

What man, who looks like he does, spends this kind of money on sex? It boggles the mind. “I received my bachelor’s degree in political science two months ago.” I tell him the truth because I doubt I can keep my lies straight. I couldn’t even handle changing my damn name to Ce Ce. I take another sip of wine to hopefully calm myself. He doesn’t need to know that my life was planned out and I was very close to accepting my first position and putting my degree to work.

I watch his hands while he meticulously cuts a sliver of chicken. “A politician.” He glances up. “If you’re telling me the truth, your choice intrigues me.”

I offer a brittle smile and try not to sound as disgruntled as I feel over his question. “It’s the truth. My plan was to be a public opinion analyst.”

He brings the chicken to his mouth and I’m practically salivating over the sensual curve of his lips. I have no idea why he affects me this way. I can’t watch him eat, so I look down at my wine glass. I lift it and remind myself to just take baby sips so maybe the glass will last through the meal.

“Did you know someone in this particular field?” he asks. He sounds truly interested, which is ridiculous. According to his file, he uses an escort every few weeks. I can’t imagine that he has a very high opinion of women.

“No, I just hoped I would be good at it. I like deciphering people’s opinions and putting the information into raw data.”

“You said it
was
your plan. Why would that change?”

He can’t be serious. I’m not even sure I can answer without gritting my teeth. I try very hard to quell my irritation when I look up at him. “Politicians must be above reproach. The job I’m doing today takes me out of the political playing field.”

He laughs. Not the short burst like earlier but a full-out laugh. I have no idea what’s so humorous other than my pathetic lost dreams.

“Excuse me,” he says and wipes the corner of his eye with his napkin. With a broad smile, he fills me in on the joke. “You obviously haven’t met the politicians that I have. I know you’re new to your current occupation but expect to have many of the so called ‘above reproach’ politicians vying for your services.”

I’m not naïve. I would never work for someone like that. Of course, I’m someone like that. Who’s worse? The hooker or the John? This time, I take a large gulp of the wine.

He adds more to my glass. “You don’t plan on eating, do you?” he asks with a continued quirk to his lips.

“If I do, I’ll puke,” I reply with unladylike honesty.

The curve of his lips softens. “I don’t want that, but I don’t want you drunk either.”

As soon as he utters the words, I set the wine glass down. Only a short while ago, I had decided that I would earn what he’s paying me. I’m blowing that with my attitude. Tears press from behind my eyes. None of this should be as hard as it is. I should have already fucked him. It would be over and done with. It’s this waiting I can’t handle.

He pushes his chair back a bit. “Come here,” he says and pats his lap.

I hesitate for only a moment before doing as he asks. It’s time to get this over with. I turn so I can sit on his lap, but he stops me. “This way,” he whispers as he positions me so I’m straddling him and we’re face to face. He tucks my knees on either side of his legs on the wide chair. The shirt he gave me is wide open and every part of the front of me is open to his gaze. He’s not looking at the shirt, though. His eyes stare into mine. “I enjoy the company of a woman. It’s easier to pay for that service and not have expectations beyond the moment. You’re beautiful and obviously smart. I would like to know what brought you here, but I won’t ask. That’s your business.” His hand goes to my hair and he lifts a section back over my shoulder so it whispers across my breast. “I want you to relax and I don’t see that happening unless you’re drunk. A drunk woman is the last thing I want.” He reaches behind me and lifts his plate. “Feed me with your fingers,” he says.

We are so close that I can see the imperfections on his skin. Not that there are many. He has fine lines at his eyes and it makes me think he enjoys smiling. It’s at odds with the flashes of emotional pain I catch in his expression from time to time. There’s a small scar below his bottom lip that, for the strangest reason, I want to nibble on. He doesn’t push me to hurry, he just waits to see what I’ll do. I inhale, slow and deep. Being this close to him, I can’t deny he smells wonderfully sinful. As sinful as he looks. There is a small piece of cut chicken on his plate. I lift it and move it to his lips. The material of his pants is against my bare legs, and I’m ultra-sensitive to the slide of the linen against my skin. My pussy is an inch from him and I don’t think it’s my imagination that I can feel the heat of his cock. I rest one hand on his uncovered chest. His muscles are rock hard, the skin hot. He opens his lips slightly and I slide the meat between them. His tongue darts out and whips across my fingers before he closes his mouth and chews.

Hell. I’m no longer thinking about payment. I want him in the best possible way.

His eyes remain on mine. “Another,” he says after swallowing.

I use both hands to tear off a small piece. My fingers are not clean, and I look for a napkin.

“Put your fingers in my mouth,” he says on a slow breath.

I do it. His tongue washes them. There’s no denying the eroticism of what we’re doing. I expected none of this when I came here. I pull my clean but wet fingers away and place the bite of chicken I’m holding with my other hand in his mouth. I’m turned on to the point of combustion. Everything he’s doing is heating me up from the inside out. He licks my fingers again and desire sizzles through me.

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