Late Call (Volume 1) (21 page)

BOOK: Late Call (Volume 1)
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Aaron kisses his way back up my body to my mouth and wraps my legs around his waist. He’s naked, his skin soft against mine, and he rubs himself along me. He’s teasing me, proved by the way he pushes the top of his cock inside me only to pull back out. He does this over and over, and it pushes me to the edge and I snap.

“Fuck, Aaron! Now, please!”

He bends his forehead to mine, grabs the back of my head, making my eyes open, and pushes into me. I moan at the sweet feeling of him easing in to the hilt, stretching me even as my muscles clamp around him.

His thrusts are slow and deep. His hips rock and circle, making sure he hits every spot inside me. He kisses and touches me, never faltering in his relaxed, easy tempo.

It feels like forever passes until I feel a second orgasm build, balling up into an exquisite ball of tension, waiting for the right moment to explode and shatter me.

And my hands are free.

“Come,” he whispers in my ear, his voice strained.

He suddenly picks up speed and pounds into me. I grab his shoulders and tilt my hips up, taking him even deeper as the ball begins to unravel inside me. My head thrashes, his name falling repeatedly from my lips until I go.

I clamp down on him and vaguely hear him shout my name into my ear with a string of curse words through my scream.

He kisses my cheeks, brushing away a wetness I only recognize as my tears. I shake my head into his shoulder and cling to him, using all the strength left in my body to stop him from leaving.

“Bambi,” he whispers, rolling to the side.

A tear drips onto his skin. Bambi… Him coming to the hotel… Me answering the door in Bambi pajamas… Him taking me to Disney the next day just because of the little deer, my favorite Disney character…

“Please don’t cry.”

I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears and shudder in his arms. That memory, that very one from the first weekend we spent together just days after we met, is the one I blocked out and refused to acknowledge because of what that day signified. It marked the day my teenage heart started to fall for the beautiful, confident guy I met by chance.

Now it means something else.

It means I broke the rules.

I always would. There was never any other way out of this. When loving someone is as easy and natural as breathing, there’s no way not to. No way to break the fall.

I don’t want to love him so completely that it consumes me… But I do.

God, I do.

Every single part of me is irrevocably in love with Aaron Stone.

 

“There’s a car waiting for you downstairs,
Signora
Black.”

“There is?” I question the concierge down the phone.


Si
. From
Signor
Stone. He says you must go now.”

“Uh, okay. I’ll be five minutes. Wait, wait!” I call. “Go where?”

“He didn’t say.”

“Fantastic. Thank you.” I put the phone down and run my fingers through my hair.

I’m wearing nothing but his shirt, my hair looks like birds nested in it overnight, and I may as well have swapped faces with a panda. Fucking hell.

I wrench a brush through my tangled locks and kick through my suitcase for a dress. I lift a new floral one out and onto the bed with my toes and grab a wipe to clear my face of yesterday’s makeup. Thank god for being a woman and having the power to multitask.

I button my dress with one hand after pulling underwear on and apply my mascara with the other. Shoes. Purse. Phone. Check.

The bell boy opens the car door for me, and I thank him, sliding into the sleek vehicle. The driver says nothing to me as he pulls away and into the busy midday traffic. I sit back in the car, chewing my bottom lip, and wonder what could be so wrong that Aaron would throw me into a car without telling me anything.

What if something is wrong? What if this guy is taking me to a hospital somewhere where I have to try and get past nurses by speaking in a mix of Italian and broken English to see him? What if he’s had a car crash or something?

But this is his car.

But still.

Oh god.

I slap my hand over my eyes.
Shut the fuck up, Dayton.
Love obviously makes me a little neurotic and a whole lot batshit crazy.

The car pulls up outside a tall glass building proclaiming Stone Advertising above the large doors. Aaron’s standing in front of it, his eyes on the sleeve he’s playing with. Some guy in a suit opens my door.

Blue eyes meet mine as I leave the car, and I raise my eyebrow. “Care to explain why you’ve pulled me down to your office on short notice?”

“I need your help to select some images.”

“Are you kidding me?” I stop in front of him and poke his solid chest. “You pulled me down here without any kind of message to pick some damn
photos
? Do you know how crazy I just went in the car?”

Evidently, he doesn’t care—not if the grin tugging at his lips is anything to go by. He pulls me into him. “Why? Were you worried about me?”

“Yes,” I answer honestly.

He smiles as he kisses me. “I’m sorry. I’ll send your friend the concierge with a hand-delivered message next time.”

“Probably not a good idea. I wasn’t wearing anything when he called.”

His step falters as he pulls me into the elevator. “Nothing? At all?”

“Well, I was wearing your shirt, but other than that—nothing. He would have had quite the sight if he’d hand-delivered a message.”

“Forget the hand delivery. The only person who gets to see you in my shirt is me.” He pulls me past a receptionist with wide eyes and leans in. “She has a crush on me.”

“Of course she does. I mean, she only works in a building where it’s not uncommon to see hot male models walk in and out every day. Why wouldn’t she want the boss?”

“Behave, Dayton.”

“You know my thoughts on that word.”

He eyes me sharply and takes me into a large office with a perfect view of the
Duomo
.

“I think I just found my new favorite place,” I say softly.

“Ric!” Aaron snaps the name of the guy he was talking to yesterday and follows it up with a string of Italian. The guy I assume is Ric brushes it off and crosses the room to me.


Signora
Black, it is a pleasure to meet you.” Ric kisses my hand. I meet Aaron’s hard eyes over his shoulder.

“And you, Ric. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Liar, liar.
Make the guy feel good.

“All good, I hope?”

“From what I’ve been told, there’s no way it can’t be.”

“Can we get on with this?” Aaron asks in a tight voice. “These images need be back in Donna’s hands by five tonight so she can pick the absolute finals. Not to mention you have a lunch date with your wife.”

God, I love jealous Aaron.

I join him at the desk and look at the images spread out. “And why do you need me?”

“Bella, the person who usually picks these out, is off sick today. On a normal day, we’d put them back until she’s back in the office and spin a line about a fault at the printers.”

“So why don’t you?”

“Because Donna is fashion royalty, and you give her what she wants hours before she wants it. Which means we have approximately forty five minutes to pick twenty images and courier them across the city to her office.” Aaron rests his hand on my back. “And we need a woman’s eyes on them.”

“This ‘working for you’ thing is becoming a habit, Mr. Stone.” I sigh and lean forward. “What am I looking for?”

Ric passes me a pad of paper with a brief description on—thankfully translated to English. From the rambling paragraph, it’s obvious to see that Donna wants images that show the class of her designs but are still sexy.

“Move.” I hit Aaron in the chest with the pad and he steps back. Ric moves before I have to say anything, and I wink at him before giving the images my full attention.

Almost kiss. Hand on the thigh while leaning back. Hug from behind, his lips bent toward her neck. Her mouth parted and his thumb on her bottom one.

On and on they go, a never-ending stream of photos that are all the same yet so different.

“Here.” Aaron hands me a brochure. “This is her usual.”

“These aren’t sexy-classy.”

“What?”

“Sexy-classy. That’s what she wants. Teasing images that have the sexiness to appeal to the younger generation but still carry the class to attract the older ladies.”

Both men stare at me. “Why didn’t we get that?” Aaron asks Ric before turning back to me. “Keep this up and I’ll hire you.”

The irony of his words makes my lips twist, and he realizes what he’s said at the raise of my eyebrows. And there isn’t a single thing he can say to take it back.

Slowly, I turn my attention back to the table and the images staring at me. Those three words… A careless slip of the tongue. Something that’s said every day without any repercussions. Something you’d say teasingly to your girlfriend.

Something she’d accept with a laugh instead of a pang to her chest.

Because
, a lingering voice reminds me,
he did hire me
. And that’s the only reason I’m here now. I can love him all I like, but I’m still a call girl.

And the little pangs like the ones I’m feeling are the very reason we don’t have relationships.

I flick through the images I’ve chosen and hand them to Aaron. “Here. They’re the best ones.”

His eyes search mine, and I know he caught the hitch in my voice. “Thank you. Ric, have these sent out and on Donna’s desk by the time she gets back from her lunch. Go and meet Francesca early. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the help baby shopping. Send her my love.”


Si. Grazie
, Aaron. I will.” Ric looks at me with warm brown eyes. “It was pleasure to meet you,
signora
.”

“And you, Ric.” I smile after him.

“Tell Rosa to hold all my calls on your way.” Aaron shuts the door and twists the lock. “Day—”

“Don’t.” I laugh and turn to gather the remaining pictures on the desk. “It slipped out, right? There’s nothing odd about joking to hire your girlfriend who happens to be saving your ass.” I flatten my hands against the thick wood and drop my head. “Well, maybe it is if the only reason she’s here in the first place is because she’s hired to be.”

The lump in my throat is too big to swallow, and I try several times before it goes. I step away from Aaron when he reaches for me and walk to the windows.

“I pushed that aside because you asked me to, but no matter what happens, no matter how real this is, it’s only happening because I have to be here. We can’t ignore the fact I’m only here because you’re paying me to be.”

“What if I stopped it? Called your agent and cancelled it? Would you stay, or would you go?”

“Don’t ask me that,” I whisper.

“Would you call her and leave? Stop doing it so you
could
stay?”

“I said not to ask me that!” I snap, turning. “I don’t know, Aaron.
I don’t know.
What I do is my life. It’s all I have.”

“You have me, Day. You know you do.”

I close my eyes. “Because I’m paid to. That’s always going to be the bottom line.”

He cups my face. “So quit. Quit and stay with me.”

“I—”

“Model. I’m not asking you to sit at home cleaning and cooking and making babies, for fucks sake. You love your independence, and I love that about you. I always have.” His nose brushes mine. “You’re a natural in front of the camera. Give up all the call girl bullshit and stay with me.”

“I can’t have this conversation right now.” I cover his hands with my own and pull them away.

“Then when’s the best time? When we’re back in Seattle and you can run?” He circles my wrists with his fingers, stopping me from moving away. “This conversation was always going to happen, and there’s no better time than right now.”

Yes, there is. There’s always a better time. Preferably one where I’m not still reeling from the realization that I’m madly fucking in love with you and I’m still technically your whore.

“I need to think, Aaron. I can’t just make decisions like that. I’m not impulsive. There has to be a plan. I have to know what I’m doing and where I’m going.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Dayton. I just told you. Leave Monique. Model for us, and live with me.”

“Three weeks! We’ve been ‘together’ three weeks and you’re suggesting I live with you? Now that’s how to scare an independent girl off.”

He looks to the ceiling. “Fine. Don’t live with me. Just leave and be with me.”

“It’s really not that simple.”

“I never stopped loving you. Not even for a second. It doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

My heart pounds in my chest. “And if that’s true, then you’ll respect my need to think things through. The only people I’ve truly cared about for five years are my aunt and my best friend. You can’t ask me to throw everything away and jump into something without knowing it’s the right thing to do.”

He exhales heavily and wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Fine. I don’t like it. Not a fucking bit. But I respect it.”

I sink into his body and wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head on his chest. “Thank you.”

“Just… Do you have any idea how hard it is waking up next to you every morning and wondering if this is all we have together? The time I’m forced to pay for?”

“Yes. I ask myself the same thing every day,” I whisper painfully.

His grip on me tightens. “Then for god’s sake, woman, find an answer before you kill us both waiting.”

“I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

“Don’t ever doubt that I’d wait forever for you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know right now.” He kisses the top of my head. “And if this is all the time we have, don’t ever doubt that I won’t stop until I have you. If I have to pay for you until you’re absolutely, completely mine, then I will.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“There isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay for you, Dayton. Money has no value when the thing you desire is priceless.”

BOOK: Late Call (Volume 1)
13.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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