After I dress and pull my hair from my neck, I turn to look in the mirror.
My eyes widen as I take in a sudden breath. I look… stunning. My hair is curly, shiny, and smells of strawberries. My makeup is subtle, with some light blush, lip gloss and smoky eye shadow. The dress is snug, showing my curves to perfection. I don’t look like a Barbie. I look like Barbie’s hot vixen cousin.
I look over at Michelle and Gabe, giving each other high-fives.
“I’ll find Landon for my next instructions,” I state, leaving them behind in a giggling mess.
I head down the stairs, my hand trailing along the banister before turning toward Landon’s office. My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my breathing comes in short spurts. I know I look good, and the bad girl in me wants to show it off, but my mind reminds me how Landon is a monster. He’s made me his puppet, and he’s the puppet master. I’m nothing but a figure to him in his pocket book. Just standing here outside his door, I can feel his strong energy from the other side, his smell making me second-guess whether or not he is a bad guy.
I don’t even knock, just open the door and enter.
“What is it?” Landon questions, his head tilted down as he scribbles across something on his desk. I don’t respond, just cat-walk to his desk and stand there, waiting for my next order. Landon huffs and glances up, doing a double-take. His eyes go wide and his mouth parts.
“Charlie,” he rasps.
“I’m…” I trail off, taken aback by his look of raw hunger. “I’m here for my next assignment,” I manage to spit out.
Landon pushes from his desk and stalks toward me, his eyes on fire and devouring every inch of my body.
“That dress, it’s perfect,” he groans, looking me up and down shamelessly. My body heats, heart pounding dangerously as my stomach knots and panties dampen.
“Well, you know, every woman needs a little black dress,” I remark nervously, looking at him from the corner of my eye.
He smirks knowingly. “That they do.”
He steps behind me, his large hands resting on my shoulders, and my senses are consumed by the smell of him. He smells like fresh air and spice, causing me to close my eyes and inhale deeply. He brushes his nose up the side of my neck, the feeling of him touching me so intimate it smothers any morsel of resentment I have. I want to be mad, be a pain in the ass, but I’m sick. I’m fucked-up and just want to feel something, feel someone and not be isolated with the inevitable loneliness. If I’ve learned anything over the last few weeks, it’s that only Landon has seemed to stifle that ache in my chest.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I question, my words muffled from arousal. He doesn’t respond, just caresses his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck seductively, causing my head to loll to the side. A rush of desire races through my chest, and my breathing picks up.
“We can’t, remember? You’re my pimp, and I’m you’re escort. Rules,” I whimper, reminding him of his words from last night.
He growls, the sound of his teeth grating. “Don’t ever call me that,” he rasps into my ear. The heat of his breath causes me to moan. He turns me around and picks me up, his fingers digging into my dress-cladded thighs.
“What if you’re not my escort right now? No rules,” he breathes heavily, placing me down on his desk.
“Like, pretending?” I question, digging my heels into his ass, pushing him closer.
“Exactly,” he whispers, brushing my hair from my face. “Just two normal people.”
“How do normal couples meet? What do ordinary people do when they’re together?” I murmur, not having the first clue how a normal couple does things.
Landon slides his hands up each of my thighs, pushing my dress up quickly, revealing my smooth legs and thighs.
“We met on a golf course. I asked you out on a date,” he mutters, his words drawn out and heavy with his harsh breathing as I undo his pants.
“I don’t sleep with a guy until date number three,” I inform him, my hands fisting his hard cock and pulling it free. My mouth parts when I see it. I forgot how big, how thick it is. He hisses through his teeth as I slide my fingers along his shaft.
“Two, because you couldn’t resist me when I bought you some stupid necklace my shitty-paying job paid for,” he grunts. His hand dips below my dress and pulls my thong to the side, swiping a finger between my wetness, causing me to buck against his hand with an uncontrollable urge.
“You’re soaking,” he sighs heavily. I am. My body doesn’t respond to other guys like it does for Landon. He does something to me. Maybe it’s because he’s a prick. Maybe…
I spread my legs wide and grab him by the tie, pulling him toward me.