Page 61 of Casanova LLC

I resolutely shook my head.

She reached down and untangled her skirt and I went over to her. She moved to pull the corset back up but my hands—of their own volition, it seemed—grabbed her wrists.

I wanted to give her full rein. Let her take me in her hands. In her mouth. Use those blood-rushed, pillow-plumped lips of hers, however she wanted to.

And that was the problem. That I wanted that.

My wants could not be confused with hers. If that changed, everything changed.

She needed me to walk away. I knew that even if she didn’t.

But I had to do it caringly. Leave her in a way that didn’t make her feel left.

I finished unlacing the corset. “Let’s get you out of this, milady.” I helped her stand, held her hand, and let the corset fall down her body and onto the floor. I turned her around and slid the dress off her arms and down over her perfect hips. I placed my hands gently over her bare shoulders. “Do you have pajamas or…?”

“Not tonight.”

I watched this vision of a woman walk away from me and into the bathroom. While she brushed her teeth, I went to get her some water, which I set on the nightstand. Then I stood next to the bed like a Buckingham Palace guard.

I heard the water in the sink turn off. The light went out. And her shapely silhouette slid out of the bathroom and toward the bed. “You don’t have to stay.” She sounded like herself again.

“It’s my pleasure.” I pulled back the sheet for her.

She glided in and I climbed in behind but didn’t spoon her. I didn’t want to wake her when I inevitably left. I just feathered my fingers down her back, soothing her toward sleep. It wasn’t long before her breathing evened.

I pulled myself away, drawing the sheet up over her shoulders.

I gathered her costume from the floor.

I closed the door behind me.

I went upstairs to my apartment and, once inside, I flopped onto my bed. I’d take five minutes to relax. Calm the fuck down.

Within ten seconds, I was off the bed and pacing. Just…pacing. Just…still hard.

I needed to do something. Something physical. So I did twenty minutes on the rowing machine. And all it did was make me sweat. And it was still hard.

I tried distraction. Sat stiffly at the table, opened my computer, replied to some emails.

I sent the preference sheet to my next guest.

I confirmed the gondola for Sunday.

I checked the news. Italian and American.

I looked up a recipe for limoncello granita I’d been meaning to try.

I paid the gas bill.

That finally did it.

All I needed now was a shower and sleep.

I stripped down and put my costume on a chair. I caught the whiff of a fragrance, her fragrance, still embedded on it. On me.

Shower. Problem soon-to-be solved.

I turned the water on and jumped in while it was still cold, lathered my hair with shampoo, grabbed the soap and rubbed it vigorously over my body.

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