I stand on the sidewalk feeling like a lost orphan, unsure of where I belong.
He’s opening the door for me, yet my feet won’t budge. His brows knit in confusion. “Are you going to get in or am I going to have to pick you up and put you in this car like I put you in the bed last night?”
It’s too much to tell him what I’m thinking. To admit that I want to go with him. I mean, we’ve just spent like two whole weeks together. He probably needs a break. “I-I just... um. I just don’t know where we’re going.”
“Daddy’s taking you home.”
“To my apartment?”
“No. I said, daddy’s taking you home. Now get your ass in this car, little girl. It’s hot as hell out here.”
My heart fills to the brim, spilling over into a giggle. I rush to the car, receiving a stinging swat on my rear as I crawl across the seat.
He rolls the smoky privacy glass up in the car, hiding us from the driver. “Opaque, and soundproof. Just what we need so I can get a little playtime with my Katie Kat.”
He kisses my neck, that soft spot at the base that makes a moan rise from my throat. He pulls me up and over him. I’m straddling him, my knees on either side of his thighs. He pulls me down on his lap, and I feel the bulge of his hardening erection through the thin fabric of my leggings. He kisses me, and as he does, I steal every ounce of pleasure I can, rubbing against him and riding him as he cups and squeezes my breasts.
His mouth finds my ear and his breath is hot, tickling my lobe. “The ride to the hotel is short. Just wait till I get you home.”
A thrill runs through me at the promise of what’s in store back at the hotel.
He’s nibbling and sucking the delicate flesh above my collarbone, driving me wild. My back arches, my head lolls over my shoulder and I’m practically purring.
I’m in heaven.
He kisses my ear. “We’ve got to give you some more inspiration for your book, haven’t we?”
My hips stop moving. My body freezes, my eyes popping open. The book. This all started when I came to his hotel to find inspiration to unblock my writer's block. So much of my story has become about him.
Has become... him.
What will happen if he reads it?
And... what of the fact that this little tale is a daddy book? His private life has already been splashed over the news. How will he feel if someone puts two and two together, figuring out that Scarlet Rose, author of Beauty and her Daddy Beast, is actually me?
Katie Davis—the girl who became an escort when she was just trying to borrow a little ribeye from a buffet.
His gaze searches my face, his words bringing me back to the present. “Did I say something wrong?”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. What do I say? “Uh, no. I just was thinking we’re getting close to the hotel. We should probably cut this little session short so you’re not walking through the hotel with a…” My eyes go to the bulge between his thighs.
He gives me a wicked stare. “A massive boner?”
“Yup.” I try to smile but I can feel it doesn’t reach my eyes. Climbing from him, I smooth my long tunic shirt, and sort out my curls. He puts his arm around me, kissing my cheek, and it offers me some comfort.
But it doesn’t stop this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that tells me my happy ending may not be as secure as I thought.
The rock on my left ring finger catches my eye. I twist it between my fingers. “Oh, what do you want me to do with this?” I try to sound casual, but faking isn’t my strongest suit. I’ll leave that to Tiffany. I go to remove it to return to him, but my fingers work against me, and I just can’t seem to take it off.
He stares down at my hand, the corners of his mouth turning up in a grin. “Keep it on, for now. It looks so pretty on you.”
I oblige him, because he’s right. This ring looks damn good on my finger. Like it should be there.
Forever.
Like it should be a real engagement. But in order to be engaged, wouldn’t I first need to be totally honest with him? To tell him about the book?
I’m plagued with guilt until we reach his penthouse. Because now, his hands are back on my body, his lips caressing my skin, and suddenly the only thing that exists is our desire for one another.
He slams the door shut, with an aggressive kick of his foot. Pushing my body up against the wall, his hands slide up my arms, raising them over my head and pinning my wrists to the drywall. “Katie, my Katie. Oh, how I love you, little girl.”