I don’t know this man. I don’t know what he really wants. That’s so much money for one week, so much that I can’t trust it. I need to walk away before I let my stupid desire do something I’ll regret.
As I turn the corner, I let myself glance in his direction. Brady’s standing there, green eyes focused on me. I tear myself away, afraid that this isn’t the last time I’ll see him.2Brady“How’d it go?”
I sip my whiskey, savoring the slow burn. Michael watches me out of the corner of his eye, trying not to act like he’s been dying to ask that question for the last hour, ever since we met up at the bar.
I’ve known Michael for a long time. We worked together at Quanta back in the day, and he was an early investor. We went our separate ways over a decade ago, but we’re still good friends. He’s twenty years older than me, but we’re kindred spirits, to an extent.
“She didn’t bite,” I say.
He laughs a little and I note that he sounds relieved. “I figured she wouldn’t. Aria is a smart girl. She can see through a man like you.”
I smile a little bit at that. “I doubt it,” I say. “I think I priced her time too high. Spooked her.”
“What did you offer?”
“Two million.”
His eyes bug out. “Two million? For a week? Jesus, Brady.”
I shrug. “I’m filthy fucking rich and very bored. Why not?”
“Still, two million… start a fucking charity.”
I grin. “She’s my charity.”
He rolls his eyes. “Aria is nobody’s charity. That girl will own us all sooner or later.”
“I’m sure,” I say. “I did find her… fascinating.”
That’s an understatement.
I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that girl since I met her in the coffee shop.
Aria is gorgeous. Thick, auburn hair, full lips, light eyes that look either blue or green, depending on the tilt of her chin. Her body is slim but full figured, almost fucking perfect.
But more than that, she has this weird way about her, like everything she does is meant to draw every eye in the room. She’s like a magnet or a web. I want to get stuck to her, caught in her. I don’t know if I’ll be able to crawl back out, but that’s half the fun.
I can see why men pay her not to fuck them. Of course, I’m going to break that rule. But I can see why the others do it.
She’s fucking fascinating.
“Well, you tried, eh?” Michael smiles, his relief palpable.
“Oh, I’m not through yet.”
He hesitates. “She said no.”
“So what? She was tempted. I’m not letting her off that easy.”
He clenches his jaw. “Brady. You told me you wouldn’t bug her.”
“I know what I said, but I don’t like to lose. You know that.”
“This isn’t winning and losing. This… this is a person.”
“Right, and I’m going to have her.” I grin at Michael. I don’t know why I’m being cruel. I know Michael is half in love with her.
He only agreed to give me Aria’s number because I begged. I caught them together, or at least I caught her leaving one afternoon. She doesn’t know it, not yet at least, but I saw her leaving his apartment just as I was going for a visit. I slowly pulled it out of him, everything about her, all that emotional companion bullshit.
And I couldn’t help myself. I begged him, practically, for her number. He reluctantly gave in and let me have it but made me promise not to bother her.
Of course, now that she’s in my sights, I can’t back down.
I mean, she’s a hooker that doesn’t fuck. I have to have her, have to fucking taste her. Especially now that I’ve actually met her.
Or at least that’s how this started. Just a little bit of fun. I was interested and couldn’t help myself.
Now though… now that I’ve met her…
I can’t just walk away. I told myself I would, if she said no. But now I can’t help myself.
There’s something about her. I’ve fucked plenty of women, more than enough for ten lifetimes, but never one like her. We barely spoke for twenty minutes and I already can’t stop picturing her body, her lips on mine, her hips in my hands, my cock between her warm fucking thighs…
“Just leave her alone, Brady.”
“I will,” I say. “Honestly, I will. But I’m going to ask one more time.”
He sighs. “Fine. Just leave me out of it.”
“I’ll try.”
“If she asks about you…”
“Be honest.”
He sighs. “You probably wouldn’t like that.”
I laugh. “Come on, I know what you’ll say. Player, asshole, all that stuff.”
“Sure,” he says, and shrugs. “But you’re also a decent guy.”
“Oh, thanks.” I roll my eyes.
“Look, just don’t be an asshole to her, okay?”
“Okay, okay.” I take a breath and let it out. “Honestly, it’s not about sex.”