Page 19 of Dirty Intentions

“You’re twenty-seven. Hardly old.”

“How do you know how old I am?”

“Ran your background check. I also know you’ve never gotten a speeding ticket, broken a law, or had bad credit.”

Instead of looking annoyed, like I expected, she laughed. “Great. I’m even more boring on paper.”

She stood up, coming within a breath of me. “How old are you?”

I dipped my head, whispering in her ear and enjoying the way goosebumps appeared on her flesh. “Thirty-two.”

Her face was upturned when I pulled back, eyes half closed with lust. She looked as though she expected me to crash my lips to hers. When I didn’t, she blinked rapidly but didn’t move away. “Are you thinking about kissing me?”

“I don’t kiss.”

“Too personal or too boring?”

“Probably both.” Kissing was what people did who had feelings for one another. The last time I’d kissed a woman, she’d misconstrued the meaning. Never again. Now when I fucked women, there wasn’t a lot of time for kissing. “And in your own words, you’re not looking to slum it with a sex club owner.”

She crinkled her adorable brow before stepping back, breaking the moment. “That’s the second time you’ve implied I insulted you. How? When?”

She couldn’t be serious. “You said clearly you weren’t so pathetic as to throw yourself at the owner of a sex club.”

Her mind looked like it was rewinding and then the light of recognition dawned in her eyes. “Right, I did. Because you could have any girl you wanted. So why would I throw myself at someone like that? Meaning I’d be pathetic if I did so. Jesus. You actually thought I’d be that self-righteous?”

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

Her expression softened. “I’m sorry if it came across that way. My intent was self-deprecation, not to insult you.”

Damn. Now I felt like shit. “I apologize for the retort about you being vanilla.”

“I believe you said I was too vanilla for you ever to be interested. Whereas my comment was a misunderstanding, I believe yours was the truth.”

I pulled her close, watching as her eyes widened and her breath caught. “It wasn’t the truth.” I let her feel my cock hard against her in order to drive my point home. God, it would be so easy. So satisfying to sink deep inside of her. Which made it that much harder to say my next words.

“But this isn’t your world, Daniella. What you need is a nice man who’ll treat you well and give you two point five kids.”

She pulled out of my embrace, smiling sadly before grabbing her purse. “What I need are less people thinking they know what I need. I think I’ll pass on dinner tonight.”

***

I threw back the tumbler of whiskey and checked my watch. It was nearing my performance time, but I didn’t feel the least bit into the thought of Heather and the other blonde—what was her name? Brandi. Damn, since when did the thought of two women leave me uninspired?

I was a complete and utter hypocrite. Even though I’d told Daniella that Club Travesty wasn’t her world, I was the one who’d dragged her back into it. My reasons were purely selfish, and not entirely truthful that it had only been to do the club’s books.

According to my security team, she’d returned an hour after departing and had been working upstairs. She’d probably been crying. Most likely embarrassed about having admitted she wanted to feel something more.

While walking upstairs, I tried to remind myself why I couldn’t pull her into the bedroom and fuck her out of my system. That’s really all it would take. One night, and I could stop obsessing about how her pussy had climaxed around my fingers. But doing so wouldn’t be fair to her.

It wasn’t as though I was averse to having regular sex in a bed. Ironically, the last time I’d had sex in an actual bed, I’d been twenty-two, in college, and fucking some coed who would’ve freaked if I’d suggested anything other than vanilla. Now I was contemplating the flavor because it had been so long I’d forgotten the taste.

God knew, I’d been involved in some kinky shit over the years. It all started when Max and I found Gloria at a bar while on vacation right after college. She was in her forties and beautiful, not in the classic sense like Daniella, but in the self-confident, sexual kind of way. And she’d introduced us to her club. Finally, we’d both felt free. Free from what society dictated, free from drunk, giggling girls at frat parties and stupid boys who didn’t know how to get a woman off properly. Gloria had made sure learning to give women pleasure had been the first of her many lessons.

But now, ten years later and with the club consuming so much of my time, I found myself bored. Now that I’d been there and done most everything, I found my appetite changing. Unfortunately, it seemed to center around a certain feisty, redhead with gorgeous skin and blazing blue eyes.

When I saw she was no longer at the desk, I knocked on the bedroom door. Silence greeted me. I opened the door to find the room empty. Where the hell was she?

I turned to find Max coming off the elevator, smirking.

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