“You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”
“Of course not!”
“Yes, you are.” He’s smiling, I know it. “If he was able to talk your suspicious ass into going home with him, you have to be more than attracted to him. Don’t worry, I’m not judging you. As a matter of fact, I think you should have sex with him while you’re there.”
“What?”
“I didn’t stutter. You need to be fucked, Paris. Badly.”
“David…”
“I’m looking out for the both of us. I’d do it, but I don’t want you to become addicted to me. Besides, it’d be nice to not have to hear you complain about another man’s cock anymore, or listen to you whine about how you only come three times a year.”
“Seriously?” I’m going to break his neck and bash his skull when I get home.
“If you don’t sleep with him, you could at least show him some oral appreciation, don’t you think? If I let some stranger chick stay in my house for her benefit, I would at least expect a blow job.”
I hang up.
My phone immediately rings, and I put it on speaker. “I am not sleeping with him, David! This is a one night thing and I’m just spending the night. That’s it. I might be attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean that we’re going to have random stranger sex.”
“Um, hello?” It’s a woman. “Is this Paris Weston?”
I gasp. “No. I mean, yes. May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Missy Turner with US Airways Customer Care. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Nope.” I change my tone. “Not at all.”
“Okay. Well, I’m calling to let you know that your flight from Reagan International Airport to Boston Logan International Airport has been rescheduled for tomorrow morning at ten forty-five. We’re offering complimentary transportation if you’re within ten miles of the airport. Will you need any assistance?”
Yes! Yes! Yes! “No, I’ll be alright. Thanks for the call.”
“My pleasure, Miss Weston. Have a nice night.”
I scroll through the emails on my phone and hit confirm on all the sightseeing events that David emailed me: Spa day, tour of historic downtown, shopping gala, another spa day, and a day at The World of Porn.
Ugh, David.
Picking up my bag, I dump everything I packed onto the bed and quickly realize that I didn’t pack any essentials. No toothbrush, body wash, brush, comb, nothing.
All I have are T-shirts, jeans, an array of mismatching bras and panties, and cotton shorts.
“Paris?” Blake knocks at my door.
“It’s open.”
He steps inside wearing nothing but a pair of white drawstring pajama pants. “Here you are.” He holds out a plate of pizza, but I don’t take it.
His body is beyond amazing. On the right side of his perfectly chiseled chest is a black tattoo that swirls and dips down to his six-pack abs. At the base of it, right where the ink ends, is a deep V with a small trail of hair that leads to what I’m sure is just as impressive.
“Paris?” He’s cupping my chin in his hands. “Are you okay?”
I nod.
He raises his eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything further. He places my plate on the nightstand and sighs. “I’m not sure how you feel about eating dinner together, but if you want more it’s in the kitchen.”
“You’re not going to force me to eat with you?”
“No, even though I know you want to.” He smiles. “You’ll come out eventually.”
“Yeah, tomorrow when it’s time for me to leave. Speaking of which, the airline called, and my flight takes off at ten forty-five so I should probably leave here around eight, right?”
“Probably so.”
“Can you tell me which cab company I should use?”
“None of them. I’ll take you.”
“No, that’s okay. You’ve done enough by letting me stay here. Do they schedule rides in advance or should I—”
“Stop.” He presses his finger against my lips. “I’ll take you.” He leans close as if he wants to kiss me, as if he’s going to, but then he stops. “I’ll be in the living room, if you need me. There’s extra toothbrushes and toiletries in the bathroom cabinet.”
“Always ready for one night stands I see.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing.”
“What did you say about one night stands?”
“Just that you seem really prepared—you know, with your drawers full of condoms and your extra toothbrushes. Being an attractive lawyer clearly nets you all you could ever want.”
He stares at me a long time, slowly letting a smile spread across his face. “You went through my drawers?”
“Yes, and you don’t need that many condoms.”
“I don’t.” He gently tugs on a strand of my hair. “But since my last client was a condom manufacturer and I won the case, he gave me a lifetime supply.” He leans close again, briefly letting his lips touch mine. “As far as the extra toothbrushes and toiletries go, those are also from another manufacturer client. And yes, being an ‘attractive lawyer’ nets me all I could ever want—except for what I want at this very moment.” He kisses my cheek before walking away.
I’m not sure how long I stand in that spot—blinking and wondering why the hell he keeps having this effect on me, but by the time I come back to my senses, I no longer have an appetite.
I force myself to eat at least one slice of pizza, and then I make use of one of the thousands of blue toothbrushes that are stuffed in his cabinets.
I’m stealing at least ten of these before I leave.
Unable to sleep, I slip into the hallway and head into the living room, but I don’t see him. Before I can turn around, I feel him standing behind me.
“Those are your pajamas?” he whispers against my neck, tugging at the loop of my shorts. “They don’t look comfortable.”
“Well, they are.” I lie. “Were you waiting for me to come out all this time so you could stand behind me and whisper weirdness into my ear, or did I wake you up?”
He moves from behind me without saying a word and clasps my hand. Shaking his head at me, he leads me over to the couch and pulls me down with him.
As he unfolds a blanket, he pulls me close and covers us with it. Then he props a pillow behind my head. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
Ever so smoothly, he dims the lights—allowing the flames in the fireplace to be the brightest spot in the room.
I expect him to try and make a move on me, to hit me with one of his over the top sexual comments, but he doesn’t. He simply turns on the TV and leans back against the couch.
“What’s in Boston?” he asks without looking at me.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you going there for business, or for pleasure?”
The way he says pleasure makes my heart speed up a bit. “Neither. It’s just a trip to get away and have some time to myself.”
“You don’t have any concrete plans?”
“You ask a lot of questions.” I look at him. “Do you know that?”