“You paid for a date with me,” I retort.
“Charity. Auction. Does. Not. Equal. Escort. Service.” He snarls at me, taking a step closer, but never breaking our reflective stare. “Lastly,” he seethes, grabbing hold of my arm to emphasize his point, “I don’t ever want to hear your refer to yourself as a whore again.”
We stand in silence as his words settle around us. Why the hell does he care what I call myself? He has no claim over me. I know better than to provoke when someone is angry, but I can’t help myself. For some reason I want to push his buttons. If I’m going to be forced to do something, then I might as well say my piece.
“Then why the contract? The events that I’m required to be your escort for.” I yank my arm out of his grip. “Sounds like your ego is bruised because I won’t succumb to your dazzling charm, so you need to tie me to you to prove to yourself that you still have that magic Colton touch. That you haven’t lost it—”
“I didn’t say anything about bondage,” he smirks, cutting me off. “But if that’s your thing, Rylee, I’d be more than happy to oblige. I can teach you the ropes.”
I shake my head in disbelief; the meaning of his words as they sink in has blood rushing to my cheeks, before I can meet his eyes in the glass again. “I’m ignoring your last comment,” I say dryly, trying to recall what my point was since he has scattered my thoughts so cleverly. Um—where was I? Oh! “Your ego’s bruised because I won’t fall helplessly at your feet and become your compliant sexual plaything, so you come to my work—take the one thing that I really want, the one thing that I’ve been working toward for over two years—and you serve it up to me on a platter.”
“And the problem with that is …?”
“The problem is that you offer it to me with terms that can only logically be explained as self-satisfying for you …” I falter because I realize I’m rambling now. And at some point I’m afraid that if I keep talking, private thoughts may tumble out—thoughts about him. And if I slip, then … he’ll know I think about him more than I should.
Colton sidles up next to me, leaning his shoulder on the glass, staring at my profile. Our silence extends for several moments, my anxiety ratcheting from his quiet scrutiny.
When he speaks, his voice is demandingly soft, “Why won’t you go out on the date with me?”
Whoa, change of subject! A sliver of a laugh escapes my mouth from nerves. I keep my face averted from his, watching the world outside. “For what reason? You and I come from different worlds, Colton, that have different rules. You want a date so you can add another to the many notches in your bedpost. You said you wanted to fuck me to get me out of your system, and move on,” I say, reiterating his threat. In my periphery, I see him blanche at my words. “You may be used to women declaring their love for you and dropping their panties at clever lines such as that but not this one.”
Colton starts to speak. I know he’s going to drop a witty one liner about how I’ll have no problem dropping mine for him. Using one of his own tactics, I stop him before he can interrupt by holding my hand up. “My time with you was a momentary indiscretion on my part. One that will never happen again.” I turn my face to look Colton in the eyes. “I’m not that kind of girl, Ace.”
His regards me, the muscle in his jaw pulsing. He leans into me, the coarseness of his voice making his words resonate their truth. “You know that deep down, a tiny part of that proper, respectable woman you are, wants to visit that reckless, sexy, uninhibited place inside you that’s begging to get out. A place I can undoubtedly help you find.”
My eyes blaze at him while I try and reject the truth behind his words. He watches my internal struggle until I turn from him and walk back toward the conference table. I don’t want him to see the despair on my eyes from acknowledging the truth to his words. “You play dirty, Colton.”
“And your point is?” He retorts turning and leaning his backside against the glass, the lopsided smile flashing momentarily. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to get what you want.”
“And what exactly is it that you want?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest as an invisible means of protection against him. As if anything really could.
Colton pushes off the wall and stalks toward me like a lion about to pounce on his prey. He stops in front of me, closer than necessary, and reaches out, using a finger to lift my chin up so that my eyes meet his. “You,” he states simply.
I feel as if all of the air has been vacuumed out of the room for with that simple word; I can’t breathe. Incredulity and willingness flood me momentarily as I accept his answer. The warmth is fleeting as I realize that this is how he does it. This is how he gets so many notches on his bedpost. He makes you feel like you’re the only one on his radar. He’s good. He’s really good. But I’m not going to fall for it.
I walk away from him, creating some distance so that I can think clearly. “So why a contract? What are trying to achieve?” I toss over my shoulder as I circle the conference room table. When I’m across the table from him, I turn to face him. “Are you going to threaten my job if I don’t fuck you?”
“No,” A wry smile turns up the corners of his mouth, “but there’s always that option.”
“Well, why don’t we just save us both the time and effort and get it over with,” I rebuff, exhausted by this game we’re playing. “Then we can move on to what really matters. Hell, we can even use the conference table if you’re that desperate.”
“We could,” he says laughing out loud, a sincere smile on his face. He presses both hands on the table, testing its stability. “It’s sturdy enough,” he shrugs, “although it’s not exactly what I had in mind.” His eyes express the lascivious thoughts he’s left unspoken. “And believe me, sweetheart, I’m far from desperate.”
His look sends shivers down my spine. I try to change tactics, as obviously the avenue I’ve taken is not working to deter him. “We both know you don’t need an escort to these functions. Why not have one of your girlfriends escort you?” I continue moving, knowing that if I stand still, I risk the chance of coming into contact with him. And the pull he has over my body is too strong to resist his touch. And if he touches me, then I think my resolve will crumble. “I’m sure that you have a bevy of beauties waiting for you to snap your fingers.”
“I don’t do the girlfriend thing,” he deadpans, stopping my momentum.
“Oh, I see. The casual fucking thing is more your style then?” I see anger flash in his eyes before he reins it in, covering it with a diminutive smirk. “I guess I was right to not expect too much from you.”
“Why tie myself to just one woman when there are so many out there vying for my attention?” he goads, trying to push more of my buttons.
“Do you actually believe your own bullshit lines?” My God, the man is relentless and exasperating at the same time. He just flashes me a smarmy smile and folds his arms across his chest. I try to not focus on the play of muscles beneath his shirt with the motion. Try not to imagine what he looks like with his shirt off. “You sure are full of yourself, aren’t you, Ace?”
He cocks his head and looks at me. “I can arrange that it be you who’s full of me instead, if you’d like?”
I stop mid-motion at his words. Regardless of how forward and crass his comment is, all of the muscles south of my waist clench with a furl of desire. I can feel the flush of heat creep up my cheeks, and I stare at a non-existent spot on the wall for a moment hoping he doesn’t notice. He chuckles softly at my reaction and my eyes flash up to meet his, my expression belying how dumbstruck I am at his words. It’s only when I stare at him incredulously for a few moments, my mouth opening and closing trying to form words to berate him on his arrogance that I see the crack in his game. A leisurely, humor filled smile graces his lips, causing the lines around his eyes to crinkle.