by Claire Kent
And that hurt her. Unexpectedly. Sharply. In the middle of a fresh, delightful day. She knew exactly what he meant. She’d always assumed he had to hide his real self somewhere deep inside him in order to use his body the way he did.
But what he’d said implied a lot more than that. He’d accepted it. That this was who he was. This was his whole worth. Just an object to be used.
And, sitting there on a bench in front of the St. Lawrence River, Lori hated Ander’s father with a passion that was both fiery and irrational. Whoever the man was, whatever the man had done, he’d convinced his son that he had no intrinsic value.
She was conscious of a tiny flicker of awareness that hinted at the hypocrisy of her hatred. After all, Lori had spent the last six months paying Ander for his body. But it didn’t feel that way to her—not really—and she couldn’t let herself think too deeply about it anyway.
She knew Ander was an adult and had the power to make his own decisions about his life. But she still hated his father. Wished she knew who the man was.
She crunched on the last of her ice cream cone and tried to summon back her giddy happiness with the day.
“The banquet should only last a couple of hours,” Ander said. “Right?”
Lori perked up a little. “Right. They said it should be over by eight or eight thirty. And we have all day tomorrow before we fly back.” She still had most of the weekend before her, and all she had to do was sit through one boring banquet.
“We can go out after the banquet tonight if you want,” Ander suggested. “I’m sure we can find something interesting to do. What did you want to do this afternoon?”
“I’m not sure,” she admitted. “I’m going to need lunch in a little while.”
Ander’s mouth twitched a little, and she knew he was thinking about the ice cream cone she’d just eaten. He was still finishing off his cone, and she watched as he put the last bite in his mouth and then licked the remnants of melted ice cream from his lips.
Impulsively she leaned over and pressed her lips against his. She licked his lips too, absurdly thrilled when she could still taste a little ice cream.
Gently pulling her closer to him, Ander wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. His tongue met hers and teased it a little before he slipped it farther into her mouth.
She moaned softly as she stroked the back of his head, loving the smooth texture of his scalp beneath her fingertips.
The kiss was lovely, but she didn’t feel particularly urgent. She’d been exhausted last night after the flight and the lecture, so when they’d had sex before bed, it had been gentle, unhurried, and under the covers. She’d thought if she spent a weekend with Ander, she’d want to rip his clothes off constantly. But she felt more relaxed than anything else. While she was sure they’d have sex at least once today, she wasn’t desperate to run back to the hotel room.
She wasn’t exactly sure why. She didn’t think it was because she was finally getting sated with Ander’s services, but she wasn’t sure how to explain it.
Ander had moved one hand up to curve around the back of her head, and his other hand cupped her cheek. It was warm against her skin. Sometimes the warmth of his hands, his whole body, still surprised her—for a man who always looked so cool.
“Did you have any ideas for lunch?” Ander mumbled against her mouth.
It seemed perfectly natural to continue their conversation in the midst of the kiss, so Lori didn’t try to pull away. “I don’t know. Maybe we can go somewhere around here since our hotel is close by.”
They were staying at the Château Frontenac, of course. Lori wasn’t about to visit Quebec and stay anywhere else.
“And this afternoon? We still have several sites on our list we haven’t gotten to yet.” Ander’s hand was tangled in her hair as he pressed little kisses on her lips.
She smiled against his mouth. “Yeah. Maybe we can do those tomorrow.”
“Did you have something else in mind for the afternoon?” The timbre of Ander’s voice hinted that he knew what she was thinking.
Lori laughed, feeling her joie de vivre return. “I did.” She dropped her hands and pulled back from the embrace. “I think I’m going to need a nap.”
LORI ACTUALLY TOOK a nap.
She was tired from the trip the previous day, the lecture, and a morning of walking around Quebec, and she needed to be “on” that evening, so she wanted to have enough energy to go through the requisite schmoozing and smiling. So after she and Ander had a leisurely lunch on the terrace of a quaint restaurant, they went back to the hotel and she took a nap.
Ander picked up a book and looked perfectly content to read while she snoozed. But when she woke up about an hour later and glanced over to his side of the bed, she saw he’d fallen asleep too.
She watched him for a minute. The book lay on the bed beside him, and one of his hands was resting on his belly. He still wore the black T-shirt and gray trousers he’d been wearing all day, although he’d taken off his shoes and socks. She’d never seen him sleeping. She assumed he slept the night before, but he’d been awake when she fell asleep and when she woke up. For some reason it felt weird to watch him sleep now.
He looked different—without the smooth demeanor he wore like a designer suit. She saw little creases on the corners of his eyes and noticed a long, faint scar just under his right ear. His chest rose and fell with his steady breathing, and her eyes rested for a long time on the way his eyelashes spread out against his skin.
Part of her was fascinated by Ander’s humanness. By the fact that he did something as natural as sleep.
But she also felt an odd twisting of her belly. An uncomfortable heaviness in her gut. She didn’t know what it was, but she didn’t like it. So she carefully got out of the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door softly so she wouldn’t wake him up.
She decided to take a bath since Ander was asleep and the banquet was still more than three hours away. She ran hot water into the deep, old-fashioned tub and had a wonderful soak, using lavender-and-honey-scented bath oil.
She felt relaxed and drowsy when she heard Ander’s voice from outside the door. “Lori? Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” she called out. “Just taking a bath.”
She gave a little squeak when the door opened. She hadn’t realized her response was an invitation for him to come in, but apparently he took it that way.
Ander walked into the bathroom, barefoot and rubbing his face.
Lori was immediately self-conscious until she assured herself that there were enough bubbles in the water to keep her naked body from being the focus of Ander’s gaze. When he sat down on the side of the tub and idly dipped his hand in the water, she said with a teasing smile, “You had a nice little nap.”
She knew her tone would provoke a reaction, and he didn’t disappoint her. He narrowed his eyes and made a monosyllabic grunt.
She giggled. She never suspected he might be cranky on first waking up, and she found the idea strangely fascinating.
“How long have you been in here?” he asked, letting his hand drift in the water. “It’s getting cool.”
“I don’t know. A half hour or so. It is getting kind of cool. I was about to get out.”
She waited, assuming he’d take her words as a sign that he should vacate the premises.
He didn’t. He just leaned against the tile wall and watched her with an idle languor.
After a minute, he prompted, “I thought you were going to get out.”
“I am.” She waited for him to leave.
He stood up but didn’t move to the door. Instead, he picked up the big, soft towel from the towel warmer, looking down at her in expectation. When she didn’t move, his brows drew together. “Well?”
Lori huffed. “Are you going to just stand there and watch?”
He made a guttural sound that was half expression of surprise and half laugh. “I’ve seen your body before.”
Frowning, she ga
ve him her most frigid glare. While he wasn’t exactly grouchy, he was definitely not at his most accommodating after waking up from a nap. In fact, he was being rather annoying. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point?”
She wasn’t quite sure what the point was, actually. So she demanded, “If you’re not going to leave, can you please hand me the towel?”
Ander held out the towel like an offering, but it wasn’t close enough for her to reach it from the tub. On his face was a quizzical, absolutely infuriating look—like he couldn’t believe she was being so silly.
She was sure he was doing this on purpose, but there wasn’t enough evidence of intent for her to reproach him for it.
She glared up at him, deciding he wasn’t quite as attractive as she’d always imagined. Apparently, his act with clients was so good that he was able to mostly hide this obnoxious part of his personality.
He arched his eyebrows. “Didn’t you want the towel?”
It was a challenge. She knew it. And he knew she knew it. And she was trapped. She either had to stand up naked and take the towel or confess she was still self-conscious about her body.
Technically, she could demand that he give the towel to her. She was paying him for this weekend, and it was his job to please and accommodate her. But she couldn’t fathom holding that over him, taking unfair advantage of the unequal power dynamic of this situation.
Which left her no choice. She wasn’t about to back down to Ander.
Lori stood up, the sudsy water streaming off her skin as she lifted herself up. Ander didn’t even make it easy on her. His eyes raked over her naked, curvy form before she could grab the towel and wrap it around herself.
“Jerk,” she muttered, walking out of the bathroom with what she would describe as righteous wrath but Ander would probably describe as a flounce.
Ander followed her. “Did you just call me a jerk?”
She stuck her chin out indignantly as she shuffled through her suitcase, which was open on a rack. She couldn’t find anything to wear. She didn’t want to get dressed for the banquet yet or put back on her jeans and top from this morning. But all the loungewear she’d brought was kind of slinky.
She definitely didn’t want to put on something sexy at the moment. Not when Ander was sitting in a chair, leaning back with his legs stretched out as if he didn’t have a care in the world. And he was still watching her, probably just waiting for the towel to drop so he could revel in his smugness.
Finding nothing good to put on, she secured the big white towel around herself more carefully, tucking the end under as tightly as she could. Then she went over to the bed, lay down, and picked up the book she’d brought with her.
Pretended to read.
After a few minutes, she peeked over the top of the cover and saw that Ander was still watching her, his lips twitching uncontrollably.
The bastard was just sitting there, having a private laugh at her expense.
Her own sense of humor surged up at the sight of his warm, handsome face. She had to hide behind her book so he wouldn’t see she wanted to giggle at herself.
No sense in letting him win so easily.
After a minute, Ander asked, “Are you all right?”
She composed her face and lowered her book. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean—are you all right? You looked like you were wincing.”
Lori thought quickly and came up with the best excuse she could on short notice. “Oh. My feet are just a little sore. From all the walking this morning.”
It sounded fairly convincing, and Ander didn’t question it, although his eyes narrowed slightly. So she lifted the book again and tried not to snicker at his suspicious expression.
She was concentrating on keeping a poker face so Ander wouldn’t think he’d won her over with his smug tactics. So she was shocked when she felt a warm hand on her bare ankle.
She squeaked and jerked her foot away.
Ander had moved over to sit on the end of the bed, and he stared at her like she was crazy.
“You startled me,” she said, explaining her dramatic reaction. “What are you doing?”
She actually wouldn’t be opposed to sex now, if Ander could manage to keep from acting obnoxiously about it.
“You said your feet were sore. I was going to rub them.”
“Oh.” She stretched her legs out again and watched him warily as he set her foot in his lap. “I thought you might be trying to tickle.”
Ander gave a dry huff of laughter. “I wouldn’t dare when you’re in this mood.”
“What mood is that?”
“I believe prickly might be the word.” The corner of his mouth tilted up irresistibly as he started to give her foot a firm massage.
Lori couldn’t hold back a long sigh at how good his hands felt. But she wasn’t yet ready to admit surrender. “Well, the word for you is obnoxious.”
“What have I done?” His tone was innocent, and his fingers kneading the ball of her foot were delicious.
“You know very well what you’ve done. You’ve been smug and obnoxious since you woke up from your nap. Now be quiet or you’ll ruin my foot rub.”
Ander chuckled, his soft, warm laughter wafting over her and making her smile too. He was a very odd man, and she couldn’t seem to figure him out. She couldn’t believe he’d taunted her into getting out of the bathtub naked.
She wondered if he thought she was pretty.
He gave great foot rubs. He worked one foot over, deeply massaging from the toes to the heel. Then he pulled her other foot into his lap and gave it the same treatment. It didn’t take long for her to drop the book and stretch out more comfortably so she could enjoy it, making sure to tug the towel down over her thighs.
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, but when his hands moved from her foot to her leg, her sighs turned to soft moans. His hands felt incredible, and eventually he was caressing rather than massaging.
Then he started using his mouth, trailing kisses and little nips along her feet, ankles, calves, and all the way up to the back of her knees.
After several minutes of his ministrations, Lori was fully aroused and starting to shift restlessly on the bed. And he hadn’t made it higher than her knees.
“Ander,” she gasped at last, when his skillful mouth on the sensitive spot at the back of her knee threatened to drive her insane. “I’m finding you less obnoxious now. You can move on past my legs.”
He made a humming sound against her skin that sent delicious vibrations straight to her hot arousal. With a smile, he moved higher on the bed and took one of her hands in both of his.
He pressed a kiss into the palm, with a gentleness that took her by surprise. But before she could fully register the gesture, he trailed his mouth up to her wrist and higher up her arm, alternately flicking with his tongue and grazing with his teeth.
Then he stroked her arms as he mouthed her throat. Every inch of her skin that he’d touched felt tingling and sensitized. Her whole body was primed, and all the parts that he hadn’t yet reached were aching for his touch.
He kissed his way up her neck and then along the line of her jaw. And then he lingered just on the edge of her mouth until Lori couldn’t take anymore. She turned her head enough to claim his mouth.
Their lips clung to each other for several moments, and then the kiss deepened. Lori was just getting into it, clutching at his head and trying to rub her hips against his, when he pulled away.
She whimpered in frustration as his face lowered again to her neck. She was dying for him. She was wet and aching between her legs, and she couldn’t stop squirming her hips.
But he wouldn’t even get to her breasts.
Finally she decided he must be doing it on purpose. “Ander,” she said hoarsely, pulling his head up from where he’d been sucking at a spot on her shoulder. “Stop stalling. Get to the good parts.”
He met her eyes. His face was slightly flushed, and h
is body looked a little tense. That gave her hope that he was starting to get aroused himself, but he lowered his face again to trail his lips down her upper arm toward her elbow. “I can’t,” he murmured against her skin. “All your good parts are covered by the towel.”
Lori stiffened and sucked in a sharp breath. He was still being obnoxious. He was going to make her take off her towel before he gave her what she wanted.
Obviously, he’d seen the various parts of her body before, but she’d always kept something on so she didn’t feel quite so exposed or vulnerable. Had Ander just pushed up the towel like she’d expected, she wouldn’t have thought anything about showing him some skin.
But this was different.
“Ander,” she whimpered, not immediately sure whether her desire or her stubbornness would hold out.
Later, she would conclude that she hadn’t really caved. It was merely her common sense that came out victorious. He’d seen her body before. And she wanted to have sex.
Why the hell should she cling to the towel?
As Ander waited, sprawled out beside her and propped up on one arm, she slowly moved her hand to the tucked end of the towel. She felt ridiculously nervous as she started to loosen it. Ander was gazing at her, and the sun was streaming in through the sheers on the window.
Her body looked perfectly fine in clothes, but she’d never be a swimsuit model.
She didn’t care if she was paying Ander to be with her. She wanted him to find her attractive.
Almost delicately, she pulled the wrapped towel apart, baring her body to his view. She couldn’t even do it in stages. Not only did she reveal her breasts but also her belly, hips, thighs, and groin.
The cool air on her still-damp skin was almost shocking. Her nipples had tightened with her arousal and grew even more erect at the shift in temperature.
She saw a flicker of expression on Ander’s face—one she couldn’t identify. But it caused her pulse to pound even faster.
To her relief, Ander didn’t just sit there staring at her naked flesh. Almost immediately, he lowered his face to one of her breasts, and his hands moved to caress her hips and thighs.