Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Oxygen sawed in and out of my lungs as my dick strangled itself in my pants. “Gurk.” I choked on my saliva and began to cough.
His lips curved into a lazy grin. “Yes. Exactly like that.” Locke’s fingers tightened in my hair, tilting my head back, which only made my dick harder. “Say yes, Jett. Let me have you for two weeks. It will solve your money issue and meet my… needs.”
He was so fucking cocky. I wanted to knock him down a peg or three.
“I need more information,” I said, trying to sound way more nonchalant than I felt.
Locke released my hair and trailed his fingers down the side of my face before turning and retaking the seat across from me. “Like what?”
“Like what the J stands for in your name,” I said, buying time to seek out my missing brain cells.
“Irrelevant.”
I swallowed. “Fine. Then, like where are we going, exactly? What kind of house party is it? Who’ll be there?”
I told myself I was only asking these questions out of curiosity. Information gathering was part of my job. Locke Maris was a global power player who had influence on a very high level. The access he could provide my agency was hard to come by.
I was considering this for work reasons only. Work. ESP work.
“Every year, a group of us get together to play Paxis. This year, we’ve decided to schedule an extra tournament. It’s in a secluded villa with views of the Med, an infinity pool and hot tub, gourmet food, and luxury accommodations. There will be a dozen players and their spouses and/or employees. I need someone to be my assistant and help act as a host. I’m not the best at being…”
“Warm?” I teased. “Sociable? Nice?”
His eyes narrowed. “I prefer not to use someone from my office to act as my social coordinator in this case. I need someone outside of Maris. Someone outgoing and charming.”
“Someone who doesn’t mind being your whore,” I said, trying to make a joke but falling flat.
“Your word, not mine. I prefer to think of you as a kind of… physical therapist.”
I snorted inelegantly, and when I saw his lips curve up and his eyes glint with amusement, I almost agreed right then. But that was impossible. There was no way I could actually say yes.
Rocky has been begging you to take a vacation. The devil on my shoulder wasn’t helpful.
Rocky would murder you herself if you took a two-week prostitution break under an old op alias. The angel on my shoulder was a bitch. And most likely a narc as well.
“Explain to me why you need…” I tilted my head at him and tapped my lips with a fingertip. “Therapy.”
He steepled his fingers together in front of his chest. “I have a high appetite for… exercise.”
So did I. Very high. And even higher when I was around temptation like Locke Maris.
“I’m sure any number of women would be happy to fill that role for you on a fancy-pants trip to Italy with your chess nerd friends.”
He pressed his lips together and inhaled through his nose. The flames flickered around the gas logs, and I found myself wishing for the distracting crackle and pop of a real fire like the ones in my family’s lodge in Montana.
“I have too much work to do to entertain a woman and give her the attention she would require. Besides, the woman I’ve been seeing would read too much into it,” he finally said. “And she isn’t the discreet type.”
“Is she the sharing type?” I asked in surprise, suddenly uncomfortable with the knowledge that he was seeing someone.
“We aren’t exclusive. She doesn’t owe me anything, and that goes both ways.” He eyed me over his lowball glass as he took another sip of the amber liquid. “Does that bother your delicate sensibilities?”
I easily fell into the role he expected of me. “I’m used to being the side piece, Locke. Which is why I know it doesn’t usually end well. I prefer not to get my eyes scratched out by someone’s expensive manicure.”
He set the glass on a low table next to his chair and leaned forward again, just enough to give me the barest whiff of his scent.
As if I needed further temptation.
“You’re not attracted to men,” I pointed out in a voice a little too breathy.
“No. But I am attracted to your mouth.”
I wanted to be offended by that, but it only turned me on more. Maybe I was a whore. A happy one if I could have access to this man’s willing body for two straight weeks in the Mediterranean in addition to his hundred grand.
Not that I needed the money. But I wouldn’t mind reallocating it from the Maris fortune to those less fortunate.
“John,” I said, trying again to make a joke. “If you’re hiring me for sex, surely the J stands for John.”