He just had to figure out how to do it on his terms. 138
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DOMINIQUE STARED AT HERSELF IN THE LADIES’ ROOM MIRROR. Miraculously, she’d managed to fix her makeup in the car, getting even the lip liner right on. Surprising when her hands had been quaking with orgasmic aftershocks.
Good God, she couldn’t believe she’d done it—fucked him, then Lord, given him a Courtesans card. There’d been that split second where she wanted to see him again. Wanted to date him. Man, woman, no gifts, no remuneration, just . . . a date.
But she didn’t date like that. She wanted sheiks with thirty-thousand-dollar diamonds and men like Trevor with ten thousand cash in their pockets. Cash for her.
Besides, she didn’t want to have to worry later on down the road how she’d tell Gabriel that men paid to have her. That she liked men paying to have her. Loved it.
So here she was hiding in the restroom of the Wyndham in case he decided to come looking for her. It reminded her too much of how she’d licked her wounds in the ladies’ room after encountering Edward. Her phone rang. It scared her so badly, she jumped. Thank God the stalls were empty and no one had witnessed her antics. For a second she thought it was him; he’d already called and Isabel had given him her special number. She dug in her purse, yanked out her cell. Isabel. She didn’t know whether she was relieved or disappointed.
She answered just before the call went to voice mail.
“Darling.” Isabel always called her “darling.” “I just got the strangest call.”
Good Lord, he’d phoned already, but she chose another interpretation. “So Trevor’s already complained to you.”
“Haven’t heard a peep from him, darling, but someone named Gabriel called, and really, inquiring minds want to know.”
“Trevor was an ass. I found Gabriel instead.”
“You ‘found’ him?”
“I—” She stopped, unsure how to explain, then decided the truth wasn’t the worst thing she’d ever done. “He picked me up. I did call and leave a message with your reception, just in case. I liked Gabriel enough to have sex with him without receiving payment.” “Like” didn’t fit. She’d done him out of desperation 139
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after being trounced by Edward’s pregnant bride. Why she didn’t reveal that part of it, Dominique wasn’t quite sure. After all, it was Isabel who’d shown her that Edward wasn’t worth the pain and misery. Isabel had helped her move on—in a most unconventional manner, true, but Dominique had moved past the divorce. At least she thought she had until tonight. And presto, there was the answer. She didn’t want Isabel knowing she’d taken a big step backward.
“If he wants to have sex again, he can go through normal channels,” she finished. He was hot. She’d see him. But the next time, the necessary rules had to be between them.
“Does he understand what the normal channels are?”
“No. I didn’t fully explain. I thought I’d leave that up to you. You’re so much more diplomatic about it than I am.”
Isabel laughed. That was one of the things Dominique liked about her. Laughter came easily to Isabel, taking offense did not. They’d met at a cocktail party given by one of Dominique’s friends, one who hadn’t gossiped about her at the country club. There’d been a spark with Isabel—nothing sexual, just a general “I’d like to know this person better” sense. They’d met for a friendly lunch, and Dominique ended up pouring out her sob story. After a few such lunches, Isabel had offered her an alternative to spiraling down into bitterness and misery.
Isabel was her lifesaver and her guardian angel.
“So,” Isabel said, “you want me to give Gabriel the basic spiel about escort allowances and gifts being nice but not expected, yadda yadda.”
“He’s a big boy. I’m sure he’ll get the full gist of it from that.” Most clients did, because they only got the Courtesans number through a recommendation. No one at Courtesans talked money, because that would constitute prostitution. But there were so many ways to get the point across, and Dominique had earned the reputation of being very expensive. She chose only men willing to make it worth her while. Yes, there’d been a few times she’d gotten stiffed, so to speak. But those men were no longer allowed access to Courtesans.
“May I ask you a question, Dominique?”
“Of course.” Something tingled up her spine. Isabel was sometimes too astute.
“Why don’t you do him without the gifts if you like him?”
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At least Isabel hadn’t brought Edward into it. Dominique didn’t mind giving a straight answer. “I’m a courtesan, Isabel. I can’t go back to a normal life with a normal relationship. I like the power too much. And a man is never going to accept what I do for a living. You know it as well as I do.” She snapped her purse closed as if that solidified her decision on the matter. “He pays like everyone else does.”
“You’re right. It doesn’t work any other way.” Isabel had her own story, though Dominique only knew there was once a man. And now there was not.
“Give him the spiel, see what he says.” Dominique wanted him enough to hope he didn’t balk, but if he did, she wanted her freedom and power more.
“Fine. What’s your schedule if he wants to make a date?”
“I can make adjustments to accommodate him.”
Silence. She could hear the tick-tick of Isabel’s mind working. Dominique didn’t usually do the accommodating. But Gabriel was good at what he did. He paid attention to her body’s needs. And she liked it. Big deal. “Just give him this number. I’ll make my own arrangements.
“Will do,” Isabel finally answered.
“I’m turning the phone off, though, so just tell him to leave me a message.”
It sounded so nonchalant, as if she didn’t care one way or the other. She wanted Gabriel to wait for just a little while. Or maybe she was afraid she’d beg him to come back. “Oh, and I’m going to block Trevor’s number. I don’t know what you saw in him that you thought I’d like.”
“Trevor has special needs, and you’re so good at figuring out what a man doesn’t even know he wants and giving it to him.”
“Thanks for the compliment. But I didn’t have the patience with him.”
“I’m sorry for the mistake.” Though Isabel didn’t make many of them. The restroom door opened and a couple of ladies entered, laughing. One of them, a little tipsy, stumbled and her friend caught her. “Not to worry,”
Dominique said, “but I’ve got to go now.” She didn’t want to have to think about how to say things in code because there was an audience.
“I’ll call you when I’ve got something. Sleep tight.”
She closed the phone. The girls went into the large handicapped stall together, as if they needed help. Being that drunk, maybe they did. Dominique intended to get a room here at the Wyndham. Calling a cab now was too much hassle. She just wanted this dress off. She checked in and twenty 141
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minutes later burrowed beneath the bed’s big down comforter. Her last thought before sleep claimed her was how much she wished she’d taken Gabriel’s cock in her mouth before she’d fucked him.
That was the question. Could a girl have her cake and eat it, too? Or cock, as the case may be. Could she have Gabriel and still retain her power?
MMM, YUM. SHE’D BEEN HAVING A LOVELY DREAM WHICH SOMEHOW now eluded her. Dominique snuggled among the comfy warm bedding. The morning sun streamed through the curtains she’d forgotten to close. The rain must have ended sometime in the night. She snaked a hand out from the coverlet and grabbed her phone to turn it on. Just like that. First thing. Had to check if he’d called.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She looked forward to her dates, but not a date with a particular man. She only dated men she enjoyed, so they were all pretty much equal. But here she was dialing in to find out if Gabriel had left a voice mail.
The first message. She didn’t like how ma
rvelous it made her feel. She wasn’t a woman who got excited about a man’s call.
“Have coffee with me and we’ll talk.” Then he rolled off a number. Oh, they’d talk all right. She’d lay out her terms and he could take them or leave them. She listened again so she could write down his number. His voice was like whipped cream and chocolate. It made her warm and gooey like a teenage girl. The second message was from Isabel. Trevor begged her forgiveness. He was contrite. He didn’t know what came over him. Dominique rolled her eyes. The man just didn’t like that he couldn’t have her at any price. It offended his self-worth.
She punched in Gabriel’s number instead. It rang four times then went to voice mail. She left him a message. “Meet me at Ste vens Creek Park off Highway 280 at Foothill. Noon. Bring your hiking boots.”
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5
WITH LAST NIGHT’S RAIN, THE SIX-MILE LOOP WOULD BE MUDDY, but Dominique never missed her speed walk. She preferred a walk over the gym, especially on a day like this, when the rain had washed the smog out of the sky and the sun was blindingly bright. A speed walk was also getting one up on Gabriel Price. She wondered if he’d be able to keep pace with her. She’d made it home in a taxi, showered, put her face on, suited up, and was halfway through her stretches in the park’s lot by the time Gabriel arrived. She’d expected an expensive luxury vehicle, but he drove an ordinary SUV. When he climbed out, she realized her mistake in suggesting a workout. While hot and sexy in a tuxedo, he was devastating in runner’s pants and a longsleeved black T-shirt, every muscle defined, including the delicious package between his legs. Something about hiking boots versus dress shoes got her pulse throbbing, too.
He leaned into a stretch beside her. “You look edible.”
It was unnerving how her blood suddenly raced through her veins. The man had the ability to rob her of her very next breath. She ratcheted back and pretended his words didn’t mean a thing. “Thank you.”
She allowed him three hundred sixty seconds of stretch in different positions, admiring his taut calves, the tight thighs, and the curve of his ass as he stretched out his hamstring.
Then she was off, her arms pumping. She could walk like this for hours, a fast clip that ate up a mile in twelve minutes. He didn’t ask her to slow down, but the path was barely wide enough for the two of them, so he settled a half pace behind her. “I called your friend Isabel.”
“She told me,” she threw over her shoulder.
“She explained how this works.”
“Good.”
They started the incline. It wasn’t tough, but it did quicken her pulse—though having him so close on her ass could have caused that.
“I think you should explain it, too.” His breathing didn’t change an iota, dammit.
“It’s quite simple. I’m an expensive woman with expensive tastes.” She 143
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looked back to catch his eye, but his sunglasses reflected the sky. “Last night you had your one and only on-the-house session.”
She waited for him to sputter or tell her to take a flying leap into the reservoir. She hadn’t intended to be so blunt or to come off sounding rude. Then again, it was good to learn right up front how liberal he was. True, he’d taken her in the backseat of a limousine, but he might very well get his back up when asked to pay for the privilege. She wanted that out in the open now. She was used to men knowing the rules from the start. Doing it the other way round, screwing him first, felt like she’d given him the advantage. She wanted it back.
“How much do you charge?”
She knew it wasn’t entrapment, at least not of the law enforcement kind, but she still wouldn’t let him pin her down. “I don’t charge. You simply show your appreciation.”
“And the more appreciation the better?”
She glanced back once more to gauge his reaction. Without tripping, though, she couldn’t observe long enough. The walk wasn’t working to her advantage. She badly wanted to stop and ferret out every nuance playing across his features. Instead, she continued to climb so her nuances weren’t visible. “That’s exactly it. A woman likes to be appreciated.”
“And desired.” His voice gave nothing away. Dammit.
“Naturally.”
“And the level of a man’s appreciation is based on the amount of his . . . gift.” He gave the barest pause, but it was there. It drove her mad. What did it mean? Dominique couldn’t stand wondering, worrying anymore. She turned and walked up the hill backward. “Good for the thighs and the glutes,” she explained, hoping he wouldn’t see the through the lie. “You’re picking up the idea clearly.”
The sun was bright, they both wore shades. Now she could see his face but not his eyes. “I understand completely,” he agreed, a totally noncommittal reply.
“I don’t normally have sex on the first date,” she went on, trying to draw him out. Really, what did the man think of the fact that she was a courtesan? All right, dammit, a call girl.
“That wasn’t really a date, now, was it. I didn’t call the number, we didn’t prearrange. In fact, you were with another date.” He bit down on the word. She felt the burn of the backward walk in her thighs. “Yes.”
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“Why did you get rid of him?”
“He made several insulting comments about the people at the party. I didn’t appreciate his disrespectful attitude.”
“Admirable.” Was that a hint of a sneer in his voice?
What was it about him? Why did she care what he thought? He was devastatingly handsome, he gave great sex. His demand that she watch his cock taking her was sexy, hot. Last night wasn’t just everyday sex. She liked his sensuality. But even more, he’d expunged her emotions about Edward and the baby, made her forget for a bit. The problem was that very fact put him above other men. It made her need him more, like a panacea to her self-esteem. The only way to have him and maintain her control was to make him pay.
“So we’re set on the rules,” she said, “and the proper appreciation—”
“Look—”
She tripped on a root and went down on her ass hard.
“—out,” he finished.
The puddle soaked through her walking tights and mud squished through her fingers where she’d tried to save herself from the fall. He hunkered down in front of her and pulled off his sunglasses. “Are you all right?”
She snorted. Then spluttered. Then a laugh burst out. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
“I tried to warn you.”
She’d thought he was about to tell her he’d changed his mind because she was too much damn work. “Yes, you did try, but I was too busy spouting off.”
She’d deserved it. She’d been acting the total bitch.
“You even splashed mud on your cheek.” He pointed out a spot. She swiped at it.
He touched her hand, and then, a sparkle in his eyes, he drew his finger down the length of her nose. “And look at that, it’s on your nose, too.”
“You put it there,” she squeaked in feigned outrage. Raising her muddy hand, she slashed a finger down his nose, then across both cheeks. “Oops, I accidentally got you all dirty, too.” He looked like a war-painted Indian.
“So you did. Maybe we need to get a little bit more on you.” He shot a hand around her neck, grabbed her nape and yanked her forward, taking her mouth in a kiss before she could even react.
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Hard, then softening, his lips across hers, taking her by surprise with the sweetness of it. She opened her mouth to him, bracing her hands behind her. He tasted so good she didn’t give a damn about the mud between her fingers. He filled her senses, took her over. She could drift in this nirvana with him forever. It was like pain when he pulled away, short, sharp, up under her ribs like a knife blade. He was close enough to scent, far enough that she didn’t have to look at him cross-eyed. On the heels of that kiss, his dark amber gaze disarmed her.
<
br /> “Why?” she murmured.
“Why did I kiss you?”
It had all started in the ballroom. “Why did you follow me last night?”
He didn’t even deny it. “I saw you, I wanted you.”
“That simple?”
“There was nothing simple about it. Sex is simple. This was more.”
“So you saw me across a crowded room like in some fairy tale, yadda yadda.”
She tried to make light of it.
“I wanted you badly. I made sure I had you.”
It was the lust-at-first-sight fantasy. You meet a guy in an elevator and boom, your heart starts pounding, your knees go weak, and if there was a power failure, you’d be doing it with him up against the door panel in two seconds flat. If she’d been twenty years younger, she’d have used the word love. Love at first sight. Yet lust could be so much more powerful. Like a drug. She relished his words, the slight puff of his breath coming faster than when he’d walked behind her. Because he’d kissed her, touched her. He was just what she needed after Edward.
And so much more dangerous because of that.
His eyes darkened to melted chocolate. “Did you feel the same?”
It was obvious she had. Why bother dancing around it now? “Yes.” Not the first moment she saw him, but he’d grown on her quickly. Less than an hour after she’d met him, she’d hiked her skirt, straddled his lap, and begged him to make her come. That wasn’t her usual style. In being a courtesan, sex wasn’t her ultimate goal.
“I’ll fuck you anytime you want,” he whispered. She felt his voice as if he’d put his hand between her legs. She’d take him here, now, and you couldn’t get more down and dirty than a mud puddle. But 146
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she’d been Edward’s doormat for fifteen years, and now she couldn’t give in without a fight. “And I’ll fuck you anytime you want to pay,” she countered. He settled, hunkered down before her, one foot balanced, his forearm resting on his raised knee. You’d think he’d show some reaction, even something so small as a twitch of his nostrils or slightly dilated pupils. The man showed nothing.
Yours for the Night Page 16