On the sixteenth floor of the Four Seasons Los Angeles at Beverly Hills, Beau and Lola exited a gold elevator. They’d been quiet since the car. To their left, a large window showcased the dark sky and the faint silhouette of mountains on the horizon. She followed him the opposite direction past the elevator bank to a hallway. At the end of it was a single black-lacquer door with a knob in the center. The corridor was long and carpeted, muting their steps. Her heart beat faster. It’d been nine years since she’d been with a man other than Johnny. And about that long since she’d wanted to .
Beau pulled out his key and unlocked the door with a click.
Lola’s stomach was beyond butterflies—she was sure an entire zoo had been released inside her. She stared at the doorway, which was a threshold, a point of no return, a choice plain and simple. Sweat beaded on her upper lip.
“It’s too late to turn back now,” Beau said.
She didn’t look away. “Not if I give back the money.”
Beau let the door close. “I know what you’re doing.” He walked to her, his steps deliberate. “If I force you into that room, then it isn’t your choice.”
“Nobody forced me here,” she said. “I made every decision. I had to. That doesn’t make my choices right.”
“Lola,” he said softly. “You don’t have to put on a show. Tonight is about you and me only. Take control of what you want.”
She glanced up at him. “You think you know what I want?”
He moved forward until the wall was at her back. He pushed a hand in the neckline of her dress. “You’re right,” he said. “I have no idea what you want. Since your nipple isn’t hard between my fingers. And you weren’t wet earlier as you sucked me off.”
“Just because you manipulate my body’s reaction,” her voice wavered, “doesn’t mean I want this. You can’t control my mind or my heart no matter what you say.”
His hand stilled. The muscles in his jaw flexed. “You’re so fucking concerned about your heart? Keep it. I’ll use your body. I won’t be gentle. And when I’m finished, you can have it back.”
He could take what he wanted. It wouldn’t mean anything to her. It shouldn’t. But his words were even more erotic than his touch. Her legs trembled from them, threatening to give out.
Lola tried to push him off, but he grabbed her wrist with his free hand and pinned it above her head. “This is what you want, isn’t it?” he asked. “For me to take your choice away? Then no one will have to know that you want this just as badly as I do. That you wanted it the night we met.”
She shook her head rapidly. His nearness smothered whatever sense she had left. She was becoming the puddle of desire she’d been at the strip club.
“Let me help you out,” he said when she didn’t speak. “You say, ‘Yes, Beau.’ Then I open the hotel room door. And every time I tell you what to do, you say…”
She fixated on his bowtie, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that. Can you speak up?” he asked.
She looked up at the sharpness of his tone. “Yes. Yes, Beau.”
“Good.” He released her and backed away. He opened the door again. The ghost of his grip pulsed around her wrist. “Ask yourself this,” he said. “Do you have to want this to do it? Or are you going to do it anyway?”
She looked between him and the door. She was going to do it anyway. The decision shed a layer of resistance she’d been hiding behind. She entered the suite, where the only light came from the distant cityscape.
“Wait here until I call for you,” Beau said.
She didn’t move. Her nerves melted away. She was in Beau’s hands now and if the past few hours were any indication, it would be an experience she’d never forget.
Glass clinked. The faucet ran. After minutes had passed, Beau spoke from somewhere in the suite. “Come to the bedroom.”
“I don’t know which way,” she said. Directly in front of her was a piano and windowed door that led out to the balcony.
“You’ll find me,” he said. “And you’ll do it on your hands and knees.”
Her dry throat protested when she swallowed.
That a tyrant in everything else would also be a tyrant in the bedroom didn’t surprise her—that there would be a show of strength, a struggle of wills, an expected submission—she might have guessed. But knowing and doing were two different things. She’d never lived it. She knew girls from the club who had. Some liked it, some didn’t. For most, it wasn’t that simple.
Lola sank to her hands and knees faster than she would’ve thought. The tile was hard underneath her, but she was on the carpet soon. The dress caught between her legs while she crawled, slowing her down. Beau didn’t rush her. She went the opposite direction of a flat screen TV, past a round dining table with several chairs. As she got closer, warmer, her breath came faster and her legs seemed heavier—the tender place between them, specifically.
She found Beau on the edge of the bed, still fully dressed except for his jacket.
“Don’t stop now,” he said. “You’re almost here.”
She didn’t remember ever crawling one day of her adult life. Inside she screamed at herself to get off the floor, but she closed her eyes, inhaled and quieted it. This wasn’t about her.
Or was it? Beau had unusual power over her. She’d never been put in this position while someone else watched, nor did she think she’d allow it from anyone else, even with the money. She was still dressed, but she felt stripped and exposed. Crawling for him was a form of intimacy. She opened her eyes.
“Your struggle is a thing to watch,” Beau said just loud enough for her to hear. “If I thought you’d respond honestly, I’d ask you how it feels to submit.”
“It hurts my knees.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe you can give me something less tactile.”
“I feel…helpless.” Vulnerability was rare for her. She’d learned young that it didn’t pay to be vulnerable. But with her helplessness came a relief that left her confused. She had no responsibility other than giving Beau what he asked for. No other choice. And it wasn’t a bad thing. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” she asked. “Me, helpless?”
“Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. You can tell me if you hate being on your hands and knees. Maybe I’ll let you stand.”
She stared at him, unmoving. He was going to make her say that she liked this out loud or he would take it away. She should’ve been thankful, but letting her stand felt like a punishment.
“Lola,” he said. “Everything between us lives and dies in this room. It’s safe.”
Her fingers curled into the carpet, but not with frustration. The slow throb between her legs was stronger. Could Beau see it? Smell it? He looked as if he knew. “I don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Hate it.” She couldn’t say much more without giving herself away. However gone she was, there was still a shred of Johnny in her she couldn’t bring herself to betray. “You make it not repulsive.”
“Well, not repulsive is something.” There was such approval in his smile that she flushed. “But it’ll be hard to do anything to you when you’re so far away.”
She finished crossing the room until she was at his feet.
He removed one cufflink, set it on the nightstand, then the other. Lola’s heart beat between her breasts. Beau rolled up one sleeve, stood and leaned over her. He gathered up her dress and pulled it over her hips. He hiked up the panties he’d bought her, wedging them between her ass cheeks. His firm hand ran soothingly over her backside as if she were a treasured plaything. She bit her lip to keep any sounds inside.
“I’m going to take you apart,” he said. “Find out what makes you feel so good it almost kills you.”
“Don’t.”
He stroked her skin until he brushed a spot that made her jolt. He made a deep, rumbling noise from his chest. “Then I’ll bring you back to life. Put you back together.”
“Don’t do it like this,” she said. “Just use me and throw me out. I’m begging you.”
“Let’s see how deep your protest goes.” He slid a fingertip under the elastic of her panties. “Mmm. Just as I suspected.”
“What?” she breathed.
“You waxed. She has a chink in her armor.”
“I didn’t do it for you.”
“Of course not.” His hand grazed down one thigh to the top of her stocking and up again. “And your legs are shaved. I suppose that’s not for me either.”
She began to tremble lightly, alive with him so close to giving her what she’d been needing since the strip club—or longer. He circled her with two fingers and eased them in.
Her head bowed to meet the floor, then gasped when he went deeper. He murmured her name, moving in and out. Searching. At least the tile would’ve been cool against her face.
“Look at me.”
She lifted her head.
“Make yourself wet,” he said as he removed his hand and put two fingers to her lips. She opened, sucking him into her mouth and tasting herself on someone else’s fingers for the first time.
He replaced them between her legs and leaned in to kiss her while rubbing her slippery clit from behind. When she convulsed and moaned, he took his hand away.
“Why are you stopping?” she demanded through the ringing in her ears.
“There’s someone at the door. Would you mind?”
“What?” she asked.
“Answer the door.”
She got up from her aching knees and wrists. Her dress fell around her legs. The heat in her chest and face pulsed with every punch of her heart.
It was room service. A young man wheeled a food cart into the living room, glancing at Lola from the corner of his eye. He positioned the cart and waited.
“One minute,” she said.
She went to the bedroom. Beau was standing in the same spot, one sleeve rolled up and his hand splayed. “Yes?” he asked.
“It’s room service. He brought food.”
“And?”
“And…he needs his tip.”
“So give it to him.”
“You took my purse.” She crossed her arms. “I have no money.”
“Ah.” He smiled and pulled his wallet from his pants. “Have him bring it in here.”
“Bring it in here,” she called without uncrossing her arms or looking away from Beau.
Beau blew out a laugh, shaking his head. “I suppose I could’ve done that.”
When the cart was where Beau wanted it, the attendant took his tip, ducked his head and left.
Beau picked up a bowl. Before he could ask, she went to him. “Strawberries,” she said. “Not very original.”
“I’m not very original.”
She picked one out of the bowl. He caught her wrist on the way to her mouth. She raised her eyes to him.
“Aren’t you going to share?” he asked.
She lifted it to him. His teeth bit down just before her fingertips. He had a sexy mouth made for eating strawberries—and other things. She also took a bite and dropped the stem in the bowl. They had two more this way—him holding her, feeding him, feeding her.
He let go of her arm to pour them each some champagne.
“We’re around the halfway point,” Lola said, her mouth fizzing as she took a sip. “You’re running out of time.”
“We’ll get to that.” He took the champagne glass from her and set it down. “Hold your hands behind you.”
She laced her fingers at the small of her back, jutting her breasts forward. Beau scooped whipped cream from the bowl with two fingers. He touched them to her closed lips. “How’s it taste?”
She tested it with her tongue. “Light. Sweet.”
“Have more,” he suggested throatily.
She closed her mouth around his fingers and sucked him clean. “It’s good,” she said. There was grit in both their voices. “You should try it.”
“I think I will.” He smeared some whipped cream on the skin above her neckline. He took his time cleaning it off with his tongue, no matter how fast her breasts rose and fell.
He slipped one strap off her shoulder. “Keep your hands there,” he said when she moved. He released the dress to her waist, trapping her arms with the straps. He took both breasts in his hands through her corset. She gasped up at the ceiling when he squeezed them.
“You like it a little rough,” he said.
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll know after tonight.”
She swallowed, still looking up. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I’ll fuck you within an inch of your life, but it won’t hurt. It will calm you. Your only job is to do what I say. And, of course, enjoy yourself.”
He still had her breasts in a firm grip. It wasn’t enough without his skin on hers, and she arched into his hands. “What if I don’t like it rough?”
He let go. “Tell me now. I can do it in a way that you think we’re making love.”
Her face fell. “I don’t want to make love.”
“How does Johnny do it?”
For a second, she thought she’d misheard him. “I’m not talking to you about—”
“Don’t protect him,” Beau said. “He didn’t protect you.”
Her heart panged sharply. With her body in Beau’s control and her mind out of focus, she was in no shape to dig in to that statement. “He’s never been anything but Johnny with me,” she said. “It’s nice.”
“Then I don’t want to be nice.” He pinched her nipple unexpectedly, and she inhaled sharply. He massaged it. “But I won’t be mean, either.”
“Thank you,” she said.
He trussed one breast up and bent his head. “You are welcome, ma chatte.” He sucked her nipple into his mouth, soaking the fabric around it.
“What does that mean?” she asked breathlessly.
He tugged her nipple between his teeth, and the pinch traveled down her body, ending between her legs. She released her hands when he yanked the dress over her hips. It puddled at her feet.
“It means,” he said, and touched her boldly through her lace underwear, “this is mine.”
“Only for a few more hours.” As the inevitable loomed, her arousal was finally overtaking her determination not to give in. “Tick tock.”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Brave girl. Touch yourself with me.” She reached into her underwear. He closed his warm hand around hers, guiding it along her.
He put his other hand to the front of his pants, massaging himself. “Tomorrow,” he said, “you’ll be home, and you’ll think of this. How I feel against you. How we feel together.”
She raised her chin. “Maybe.”
His eyebrows rose even higher. “Maybe?”
“So far you haven’t given me much to think about. Frankly, I’m not sure you have the guts.”
“Excuse me?”
“You talk and talk, but here I am. You’ve barely touched me.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. It was somehow both menacing and suggestive, and it dried her throat. He grabbed her shoulders in a flash, spun her to face the bed and pulled her back to his front. “Feel that, pussycat?” he asked, thrusting his erection into her lower back. He pushed her and she caught herself on the mattress. “Bend over,” he said. “Put your arms out to your sides.”
With her cheek against the bed, she stretched out and took two fistfuls of comforter. Her shoes propped her ass in the air at an uncomfortable angle, so she moved to take them off.
“Leave them,” he said. “Lines you right up for my cock.”
Her fists tightened. She wanted to turn around and watch him undress. Was his suit the source of his power? In her imagination, it wasn’t—he was just as commanding with nothing between them except his hard-on.
He stripped her underwear down to her ankles. “You have no idea how hot you are in your black stockings.” His zipper hissed. “Tell me you want it, Lola.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“It’s one thing to do it. It’s another to want it.”
“You’d walk away right now if I let you?”
She squeezed her eyes closed. She couldn’t picture Johnny no matter how hard she tried, through the haze, through her heartbeat pounding in her brain. Beau’s skin was warm against the backs of her thighs. He nudged himself between her legs.
“Answer me,” he said. “Your secret stays here.”
She was unraveling on the inside. Her nerves were surfacing—exposed and sensitive. Her mouth and her pussy were already slick. “I want it,” she whispered.
“What do you want?”
“You. I want to feel you inside me.”
He slid his crown up and down her slit. “Stay very still.” He worked his way in, slow with every inch. It made him feel impossibly big. The comforter sucked into her open mouth when she gasped. She bit down on it. He placed his hands on the bed around her and his mouth at her ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful in this position,” he said. His chest pinned her down. “No escape, feeling every single movement between us.” His voice vibrated against her back. He was still sinking himself in with extraordinary patience. He kissed her cheek and the corner of her mouth. “I want to hear you.”
She moaned when she said, “Yes, Beau.”
“Louder.” He thrust in to the base, and she cried out. “Like that,” he muttered into her hair, littering kisses there. “Just like that, Lola.” He said her name with such affection that she momentarily forgot how he was overcoming her. He undid the hooks of her corset, one at a time down her spine. He opened it, smoothing his wide, rough hands over her skin.
“I want it, Beau,” she said. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”
He cleared the hair from her back and buried his face into the crook of her neck. He moved in and out of her slowly. “This is for you,” he said.
Everything in her was building, rioting, begging for it. His rhythm never broke, and each stroke of his cock inside her was deliberate. It had such certain purpose—break her piece by piece.
His breath stuttered against her while whispering how soft, hot, pliant she was. Each word from his mouth was sharper than the last until finally he said, “Now it’s for me.”
He pounded into her, pulling her head back by her hair until her roots screamed. His lips stubbornly attached to hers from the side as he took her mouth. His other arm wrapped around her shoulders and he became even more merciless until—
“Don’t stop,” she almost sobbed when he pulled out.
“Turn over.”
She flipped onto her back. He towered over her, a force of strength and power. There was no vulnerability in his nakedness. Her shoes were tossed aside. He rounded the bed to the other side as she watched with her head tilted back. He slid her across the mattress by her armpits until her head hung over the edge.
“Is your mouth as hot as your pussy?” he asked, cupping his hands under her head.
She opened immediately for him. He fed her firmly but gently, his forearms flexing as he maintained control, then tightening as he lost it and thrust all the way in. She could only leave her mouth open for his use and hang onto the bedspread as she writhed with the need to come. He pulled out and pushed her breasts together, squeezing his cock between them and fucking her that way.
“Is there any part of you that isn’t perfect?” He slipped against her skin easily, wet from her saliva. “You fit right into my hands.” He pressed her into the bed as he went harder. “If I’m not careful, I’ll come all over you. Would you like that?”
“Yes, Beau,” she said.
“Christ, you’re sweet.” He released her. “Get up. Tell me what you want.”
She climbed off the bed and stood in nothing but her stockings. Her clit radiated heat, burning her up from the inside out. “I just want to come,” she said shakily.
“There are lots of ways to get there, though,” he said, stroking himself as he looked at her. “If you want me to decide, I will.”
She nodded hard. “I’m yours.”
“Hmm.” He circled around her, stopping at her back. He wedged his fingers against her asshole. “I could finish you this way. Have you ever come with a dick in your ass?”
“No,” she rasped.
If ever there were a moment she would agree to it, it would be that one, but he let go and said, “I’m far too impatient to break you in right now.”
“I want to see your face when you come,” she said.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her neck. “Then ride me,” he said into her ear.
She turned in his arms and pushed his chest. He sat back on the bed. She put her knees on both sides of his hips and held him with one hand as she sank down. “How’s that?” she asked coyly.
“You’re too far,” he groaned.
“I’m as close as I can get.”
“No, you aren’t.”
She bent forward and put her lips to his, creating a curtain around them with her hair. He angled up to kiss her. She circled her hips over him. Their mouths became hungrier, and he sat up to bury both his hands in her hair.
“Not a day’s gone by these past two weeks that I didn’t imagine your legs around me,” he said.
She lifted herself up to free her legs and wrap them around his back. With her arms circling his neck, she was as close as she could get.
“Dance for me,” he said.
“I already did. Now I’m fucking you.”
He released her head to clutch her hips and slow her rhythm. “Like this,” he muttered. “Dance for me, with me, around me. But do it slow. Savor what you devour.”
He slid his hands to the center of her back and pushed her breast into his mouth. He moved from one nipple to the other, sucking on her as she danced herself into a fiery orgasm that consumed everything in its path.
He flipped her onto her back and took what he needed as she tried to keep up with every overwhelming sensation. His muscular arms propped him up, the tendons in his neck strained, his eyes stayed on her bouncing tits until finally he slammed one, two, three times and came deep inside her.
Lola was slick everywhere. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as their bodies heaved. A sweat rivulet trickled down his temple onto her stomach. He held himself up with one hand and put the other just above her mound. He circled his thumb once over her pulsating clit. “I want to feel you clench around me again, nice and slow this time.”
Her back arched from the mattress. “Ah,” she breathed. She was sensitive, but he was gentle—until she was so hungry for her orgasm that she needed it a little harder. She raised her hips, and he increased his pressure, using only his thumb as the rest of his fingers splayed and pressed down on her lower stomach.
He slid in and out of her only a little. “Just to feel my cum inside you,” he said lustily. His heavy-lidded eyes didn’t leave her face. She tried to tell him it was the most erotic moment of her life, but her words came out as gasps. His arm began to shake from holding himself up, but he didn’t stop. Her orgasm seemed to return rather than start again. It roiled through her, slower, deeper, with her hanging onto his cock in a way that made him moan along with her.
His arm gave out, and he collapsed over her. He nuzzled into her neck, kissed her hairline. “Salty,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to find out how you taste everywhere else.”
Lola was ravaged. She welcomed his weight on her already sinking body. She descended limb by limb into the mattress while her mind floated into darkness. Her entire body jerked as she gasped and opened her eyes. “Oh my God,” she said. “Did I fall asleep?”
He lifted his head and chuckled. “Just for a second.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
“I assumed it…wasn’t allowed. Sleeping. I thought you wouldn’t want to.”
He kissed her forehead, her temple. “I don’t,” he said into her ear.
Her stomach growled.
His body shook on top of her in a silent laugh. “Hungry?”
“Any chance there’s actual food on that cart?”
“I can order up something.”
“It has to be two in the morning by now.”
“For what I’m paying a night, they’ll bring us food at any time.”
“Mind if I shower while we wait?” she asked.
“I mind.”
She wrinkled her nose. “But I’m—”
“Exactly how I want you,” he finished. He pulled out from between her legs and fell back on the bed. She turned onto her side. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and kept her close as he reached for the phone and pulled it to his ear.
“I’d like to order breakfast,” he said and paused. “I don’t care what time it starts. Send up whatever you have. Omelets, bacon, croissants, orange juice.”
“French toast,” Lola whispered.
He pulled the phone away. “What?”
“French toast,” she said, looking back at him.
“And two orders of French toast.” A beat passed before he said, “Well, perhaps tomorrow night I should find a hotel that can.” He winked at her as he listened. “Ah, I’m so glad you’ll make it work.”
“Coffee,” she added.
“Most importantly, I’ll need some coffee too. Yes, that’s fine.” He hung up and hugged her from behind with both arms. “So she likes French toast.”
“As a rule, anything breakfast food.”
“Well. I’m glad we get to eat breakfast together.” He looked down at her. “But apparently you aren’t. You’re frowning.”
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
He rubbed his stubbled chin against her neck, and she smiled. “Good thing you tickle easily.”
“I do not,” she said, but when he went to do it again, she wriggled in his arms and cried, “Okay, okay, I do.”
“So, why the frown?” he asked.
She sighed. “Eating breakfast together almost seems…”
“Worse?” he asked.
“Sounds stupid, doesn’t it?”
He leaned in and whispered, “Just think of it as fuel.”
“Beau,” she chastised, but she was smiling.
“All I can think of when I’m near you is how to get closer.”
“You’re practically on top of me. You just fucked my tits for God’s sake.”
He nipped her earlobe. “And you just turned me to stone again with one sentence.”
“Already?” Lola asked.
“I’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”
“Room service will be here any minute.”
“Then we’d better be quick.”
He rolled her over and lay on top of her. He swept his hands over her hairline and his lips over her nose and mouth.
“This isn’t quick,” Lola said, but her sentence ended in a sharp gasp.
He’d reached down and slid his fingers into her. “Just let me appreciate you. That sound you make.” He kissed her neck. “The way you feel in my hand,” he said against her skin. “That birthmark above your hipbone.”
It seemed her mind had turned to mush—she could only answer him in moans. But you barely know me, she meant to say. She put her arms around his back.
“Could you see yourself with me?” he whispered, as if someone might hear. He kept stroking her.
“Don’t.” She closed her eyes. Her voice sounded far away. “Not right now.”
“Right now,” he countered. “You can’t lie when I’m inside you.”
When she swallowed, she did it quietly, even though Beau could see her throat. “I don’t even know what you’re like.”
“I’ll tell you. Morning is my favorite time of day because it’s quiet and no one needs anything from me. So I wake up early and either use the gym or run in the Hills where I live. At work I mostly meet with investors or founders or wherever my secretary sends me. Some nights, more than I’d like, I attend events or parties. Other nights I come home and work more, which I prefer. I don’t get a lot of time alone at the office.”
Lola had been looking between his eyes and his mouth as he spoke, but her mind was spending the day with Beau. In a way, the complicated life she’d imagined he’d have was even simpler than hers. There was no emotion in his routine, and that made it too easy to stay detached.
“I could ease up on the work,” he added as an afterthought. “I’ve just never had a reason to.”
Lola dropped her gaze to his neck. That life didn’t appeal to her, but Beau did. Those early-morning or late-night moments when they could intertwine like they were now. He needed that. She didn’t. She already had it. Johnny and Beau were miles apart, but even so, one person’s taste couldn’t be so divided. Lola and Beau were miles apart.
“Maybe if things were different,” she said. “But they’re not.”
“Like what? Give me one reason aside from the obvious one.”
“The obvious one is a pretty big one,” she said. “But okay. I sleep until around noon, so…”
He chuckled. “That’s easy. Get a job with regular hours. I’d help you find the right thing. Next?”
“Next?” she asked. “That big reason. Johnny.”
He tilted his head at her. “You really think he’s the one you’re meant to be with?”
She bit her lip when he crooked his fingers inside her and massaged. “I don’t believe there’s only one person out there for each of us.”
“You’ll change your mind when I go down on you.”
She laughed breathily. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means…I’m confident we’ll find that my mouth is made for your pussy.” He flashed her a smile. “You’ll see. They’re meant to be.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, also grinning.
“Ah, Lola. I don’t know what’s better, your eyes or your smile.”
“You don’t have to seduce me,” she said. “I’m already in your bed.”
“I have to say,” he pulled his fingers out and slid them all over her, “I like having you in my bed.”
“It’s not, though…” The ache in her built again, spurred on by his fingers. “Not your bed. Why would you stay here again tomorrow night?”
“What makes you think I am?”
“You said on the phone.”
“Ah,” he said. “I just like to get out of my house sometimes.”
Her bullshit radar went off. It wasn’t even a decent lie. “You’re bringing someone else here,” she guessed. The words came out sour. Not all of what they’d just done was pretty. Some of it was crude, but those were the moments Lola had submitted completely. Because nobody else could do those things to her that way and make them so good she could’ve screamed. Her mind flitted between the bedspread underneath her, the mouth above her, the warmth surrounding her. Could he so easily turn around and share that with someone else? She couldn’t. “I don’t want you to,” she said abruptly and unprompted. “I don’t want you to do these same things to someone else right after I was here.”
“I’m not bringing anyone else here,” he said, but it felt as if he was placating her. “Hey.”
She’d been staring down again, avoiding him.
“Don’t look like that,” he said. “It’s the truth.”
She lifted her eyes again. She was ridiculous for letting her mind go there. It wasn’t like her to act jealous. “Okay. Sorry.”
“You know what I liked tonight?” he asked. “You on that stage. Asking me to send those women away. I lost it after that. God, you were sexy on that pole. Where’d you learn to dance?”
He was still coaxing her, not enough to get her off, but enough to charm words out of her. She was tempted to tell him the truth—I used to take off my clothes for money. There was the risk he might see her differently, though. She didn’t want that for the little time they had left. “Ballet,” she said.
“Ballet?”
“Classes.” She moaned. “In middle school, I took a year of ballet, and we had this…this…,” she swallowed, “teacher…”
“Yes?”
She breathed in and out. “I can’t think when you’re touching me like this.”
He stopped but didn’t remove his hand. “Your ballet teacher,” he prompted.
“She thought I had potential. She took me under her wing. For years after, she let me attend lessons for free. Since I couldn’t—Beau, this is worse. Either do it or don’t.”
He smiled and narrowed his eyes on her. He traced his finger along the outside of her and slipped it inside again.
“She gave me free lessons because I couldn’t,” her voice pitched, “afford them.”
“A ballerina,” he said reverentially. “So she loves to dance.”
“She loves to dance.” Lola nodded and cocked her head. “I think I heard something.”
“Impossible,” Beau said. “I just called downstairs.”
There was a knock at the door. “Guess they don’t have a lot of orders this time of night,” she said.
“Ignore it. They’ll wait.”
She laughed lightly. “You practically threatened their lives if they didn’t bring you your breakfast.”
He sighed. “Then I guess we’ll have to pick this up later.” He got up and pulled on his boxer briefs. Lola unpeeled her stockings, found a robe in the bathroom, slipped into it and went out just as Beau was signing the receipt.
He shut the door and turned. “My robe on you,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “an image that’ll soothe me on my deathbed.”
“I was indecent.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You were very indecent. But seeing you dressed just makes me want to undress you.” He backed her up against the wall and nibbled her neck.
“The food,” she said breathily but laughing.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Beau,” she whined.
“Ah, fuck. Fine.” He released her but not before kissing her once on the lips. “First, we refuel.”
