Page 11 of Shattered Veil
“What are you doing?” His sharp tone startles me.
“You have a smidge of sugar on your mouth.” I point. “I wanted to clean you off.”
He exhales and wipes his own mouth with a fancy napkin. This no-touching thing is real.
“Terms and conditions, butterfly.”
Narrowing my eyes, I return to my waffles. “Go ahead.”
“Once we’re in the room, and I’m a paying client, I touch you. You don’t touch me. Except your mouth on my dick. No kissing.”
I want to argue that the arrangement sounds odd and pretty cold, but he thinks I’m an escort. “Okay. Anything else?”
“I come anywhere on your body I want. I take you on your hands and knees. No face to face.” He leans in closer. “And I’ll pay you ten grand.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ella
We land in Los Angeles, and it feels good to move my legs again. I’m warm and tingly, anticipating five hours of mind-blowing sex with the gorgeous mysterious man hovering behind me while we wait to get the hell off this plane.
But if anything can kill a sex buzz, it’s deplaning and elbowing your way through a crowded airport terminal.
First-class passengers leave first, but that means shit once you’re off the plane. Balor, who still hasn’t offered me anything past his first name or asked for mine, steers me forward with his hand on the small of my back.
I touch you. You don’t touch me.
With mirrored shades on, he speaks low into his phone and next, an agent escorts us to an express lane in LAX customs.
We whisk through in record time and step outside the airport where a sleek, black limo awaits.
Balor opens the door for me but before I can get in, he puts an arm out to stop me. “We’re clear about what will happen when we reach the hotel?”
“Absolutely,” I say, hiding my nervousness.
“You understand I’ll be paying you for your company? This isn’t a date.”
Sleeping with me is a business transaction, and he’s making sure to not give me the impression that he’s swept away with emotion or excitement.
I flick my gaze at the mirrored lenses, aiming to look him directly in the eye. “Will that make you fuck me harder?”
“Get in,” he growls.
I’ve only been in a stretch limo once for prom with eight other kids. I duck inside and scoot across the rearbench closer to the other door.
Anticipation flickers in my chest. And foolishness, when Balor lowers into the bench seat smooth as a panther.
He closes the door himself and glances around looking for me. “There you are.” His low drawl sets the tone, his intention clear.
“Here I am.” If thiswerea date, I would expect to be kissed.
Looking at those lips, I’m tempted to knock a few hundred, or heck, a thousand off my fee, if he would agree to it.
“Lean against the door and spread your legs.” When I hesitate, his eyes darken. “Problem?”
“No. I thought we’d wait until we reached the hotel.”
“We only have a few hours, and the things I want to do to you can take days. Now open your legs. I want to taste you.”