Page 12 of Pretending I'm Yours

I’m no prude, but I’ve never been entirely comfortable with this part of Twyla’s business. I know the state and federal governments both tend to look the other way when it comes to the misdemeanors of the very wealthy, but all it would take isa morality-minded law enforcement agency on a mission and Twyla could be headed to prison.

I trust that she’s done an excellent job of shielding herself from prosecution, but no plan is foolproof when it comes to evading the long arm of the law.

“But I do have a vacancy in my roster of impressive companions that I didn’t grasp until this evening,” she continues, ignoring my fears as she always does. “I have several beautiful, kind, talented men on offer, but no one over the age of thirty-five. And my client specifically asked for an older man.” She arches a pointed brow my way. “Someone close to forty with a strong, steady way about him. Someone smart, compassionate, and patient, who won’t make her feel embarrassed when she asks too many questions or doesn’t know exactly what to do.”

“Is that right?” Heat threads through my core. I tell myself it’s the scotch, but I know better.

I would never make Velvet feel embarrassed, and I can’t imagine anything sexier than helping a beautiful young woman feel empowered to ask for whatever gives her pleasure. She already knows what she wants, that look we shared left no doubt about that in my mind.

She just needs to trust her instincts, her desire…

“Her name’s Maya,” Twyla continues in a soft, seductive voice, luring me like a hunter dropping bait along a woodland trail. “She's twenty-four. A successful real estate manager with an eye to build an empire of her own. Beautiful. Smart as a whip. Sweet. Stronger than she knows, and…completely inexperienced. And I do meancompletely.”

“She’s a virgin?” I ask, a little embarrassed by the way my cock stirs at the thought. I’m not one of those guys who gets off on the thought of “deflowering” young women.

Or so I thought…

But the idea of being Velvet’s first,Maya’sfirst…

It does something to me. Something that could get embarrassing if I don’t get control of the way my blood is suddenly rushing south.

“She is. Just a shy babe in the woods starting to wonder if she’ll ever learn the ropes in the bedroom.” Twyla’s smile turns wicked. “Sound like anyone you know?”

I arch a brow. “I wasn’t a virgin at twenty-four.”

“But you were at twenty.” She laughs. “I still remember the look on your face when Jane dragged you into her bedroom at that Halloween party. You looked like you were about to be eaten alive.”

“I don’t remember things that way.”

“Well, I do. And I have a much better memory than you do.” She stands and moves back behind the desk, glancing out at the snowfall growing thicker outside the window. “You were a lot like her once. The child prodigy with a dozen degrees, who didn’t know how to talk to girls. Who thought physical pleasure was a distraction from his intellectual pursuits.”

“I remember,” I admit. “But I didn’t think physical pleasure was a distraction. I just didn’t know how to make the transition from being in my head to being in my body. It took practice.”

“Exactly, but now you’re on the other side,” Twyla says. “Now, you’re the kind of man who can dampen panties with a look.”

I choke on my scotch, while Twyla laughs.

Once I’ve cleared my sinuses, I laugh with her, shaking my head as she eases back into her big chair. “You’ve taken things too far. As usual.”

She grins her typical, shameless grin. “Never. I take things just far enough. You’re a lightly silvered fox, my friend, and exactly what Maya needs. You can show her that pleasure and control aren’t mutually exclusive. That it’s possible to have both.”

I nod. “Perhaps, but I’m not an escort.”

“Not yet. But all you have to do is say the word and you’re hired.” She pushes on as I start to protest, “She’s still here. I asked Raven to give her a tour of the playrooms, so she could see what else we have on offer while I looked for an escort to meet her unique needs.” She reaches for her cell. “I can message Raven now, ask her to show Maya to a private room for a meeting with a potential match.”

My jaw falls open, but the “no” on the tip of my tongue goes unspoken.

I could see her again. Right now.

Not just see her, but talk to her, maybe even touch her…

“Just take the meeting,” Twyla cajoles. “In private. We could even have you both go in masked, if you’d like, for extra anonymity. Then, if there's no chemistry, there’s no risk of exposure on either side. But if there is…”

“This is insane,” I say, but I don’t sound outraged or reluctant. I sound like I’m looking for a reason to forget all the reasons I shouldn’t consider this. In an effort to make sure Idon’tforget, I add, “She’s half my age, and I’m not the professional she came here for. I don’t like lying to people.”

“What are a few white lies for the good of two people in need?” Twyla asks, brushing aside my worries with a wave of her hand. “And yes, she’s young, but she's a grown woman who knows what she wants. And she wants you.” Twyla cocks her head, her expression serious for once. “Think about it, Anthony. When was the last time you did something purely because it felt good or would make someone else feel good? When was the last time you made a real connection?”

“It wouldn’t be real. It would be a performance,” I insist. “Pretend.”

---