Elizabeth

And in a lot of ways, it had spoiled sex for me.

After my first three encounters with men who wanted nothing more than to do with me as they wished, I went the other route with my temporary career. Straight arm candy, and nothing else. I enjoyed that line of work. I enjoyed clients who wanted me to be charming, intelligent, and well-mannered without all of the other stuff that came along with the reputation of a “call girl.” Of the three men I’d been with throughout my career, they had one equal complaint: that it didn’t seem as if I was enjoying myself. And I hadn’t. I couldn’t. Sex was something to be enjoyed only when one’s heart was in it.

And rich men who had diaper fetishes didn’t trip my trigger the way it did theirs.

Then again, I was a call girl. So why should my heart be in it? I let out a silent sigh as Phillip climbed out of the car. If he had addressed me, I’d been too deep in my thoughts to notice. I slipped out of the car and pressed my heels into the ground, then wrapped around to the trunk and grabbed my things out of the back.

The driver was grabbing his things, and I had half a mind to tell “Phillip, dear” to come get his shit.

The penthouse suite of the hotel was gorgeous, quite unlike what I remembered from my childhood. Everything had been updated. The walls had been painted a gorgeous cream color—much better than the yellow they used to be. The furniture was all new. That terrible leather was gone, and it had been replaced with a microfiber that felt almost like silk. I looked around the room and smiled. Part of me wanted to regale Phillip with the memories I had of this place.

And part of me wanted to go to my room and put space between us.

“I’m going to work for a few hours, then turn in early. If you want, you can order room service. Just charge it to the room. The bar, the fridge, the snack bar—all of it you can use. The spa services as well. I want you to use those. You’ll need to be relaxed and look your best this week.”

“Of course,” I said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am very eager to try the tub in the bathroom, however, so I’ll make sure to keep it down.”

Phillip flickered his gaze up from his phone before he turned his back on me. Without another word, he dipped for his bag and made his way into his room. That man really had a stick up his ass. I rolled my things into my bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom, pouring an insane amount of bubbles into the hot water I had running. The tub was carved deep, made specifically for those with longer legs, like myself. The marble was beautiful, and I stroked it with my fingertips. The feel of luxury underneath my toes was something I’d missed. It reminded me of a time when I was happier. A time when my family was whole.

A time when my life felt complete and not like the chaotic disaster it had become.

I placed my folded clothes into a chair in the corner of the bathroom. Then, I slipped myself underneath the bubbles. They popped along my skin as the hot water took over, and my muscles relaxed with each second that passed. I ran my foot up my smooth leg, sighing as I leaned back.

I tried to ignore the throbbing between my legs as I closed my eyes.

Phillip really was good-looking. And obviously, my body thought so as well. I leaned my head back and allowed the water to soak the tendrils of my hair. The bathroom filled with the scent of rose petals, and I smoothed the bubbles over my skin, cleaning myself of that long flight and the grogginess that still lingered upon my mind.

Then, my stomach let out the loudest growl I’d ever heard in my life.

Despite the finger foods I’d had on the jet, my stomach still roared for more. So much for a long, hot bath. I slipped from the bubbles and unplugged the tub, then reached for the fluffy robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I wrapped myself up in its warmth and sighed. I closed my eyes and imagined the arms of my father enveloping me in their comfort. Tears rushed to the back of my eyes, and I shook them away, setting my sights on food.

I needed food, not to be stuck in my past.

I headed out of my bedroom and made my way into the living room. I picked up the phone on the table and dialed the kitchen, then ordered a miniature feast fit for a queen: small steak skewers with roasted vegetables, a shrimp cocktail, an order of yeast rolls, a bottle of red wine, grapes, and an apple strudel for dessert. I set the phone down and made my way to the couch, falling down onto it, my robe running up my legs. I sighed as I sank into its softness. It cradled me like a cloud as I propped my heels onto the arm of it. I reached down and wiped away a small trail of bubbles that led up the outside of my thigh, the sensation causing me to giggle. My robe fell down my body even more, exposing my damp skin to the air-conditioning of the room.