The Escort: A Different Kind of Escort Service by Kelly Gendron

Author:Kelly Gendron [Gendron, Kelly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

I stand in my T-shirt, staring at my apartment door.

It rattles with each pound, absorbing the brutal hit of his fist.

I knew he’d come. I’ve been anxiously waiting.

My trembling hand reaches for the knob. The vibration of the pounding spreads up my arm, warning me of the threat behind it.

I want to let him in. Still, I wait for the threat to silence. When it finally does, I take a deep breath and open the door.

Dangerous, piercing blue eyes slay me. He’s drenched from the rain. Drops of water fall from his wet hair and slide down his chiseled features. His soaked-to-the-skin black T-shirt clings tightly to his defined chest.

Shimmering with beaded heat, he steals the breath from my lungs.

“Lucy Deetman,” he says between thinned lips, anger flaring across his face. “What’s that going to cost me?”

I know what Lucy Deetman told him. The information was a lot to process. It was for me when I met her, but they needed to know the truth about their mother. This story had to be told.

“Nothing.” I lie. “It’ll cost you nothing. Come in.”

He leans forward, pressing his palms against the doorframe. I get a strong whiff of his damp earthy scent. His head lowers. “If I come in.” His eyes slowly rise, pinning my breath back into my lungs. “I’m going to find out what you have on under that T-shirt.”

“Nothing.” I open the door wider and step back. “I have nothing on under this shirt.” I meet his intense eyes. “Come in,” I dare, my words sounding more steady than my nerve.

His hands slide down the frame of the door. Muscles flex and fluctuate beneath his wet clothing.

He advances inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He stops a few feet away, surveying my trembling, uncertain body.

“Take it off,” he commands in a soft low tenor.

“My-my shirt?” I swallow hard, comprehending that’s what he’s asking.

“Yes.” The desire in his eyes evaporates my hesitation.

I pull the T-shirt over my head, drop it on the floor, and place my hands behind my back, just as he had the other night.

I offer myself to him, accepting his bold and intrusive inspection.

The space between us, like my anticipation, evaporates. His arm reaches out. His firm palm grips the back of my neck, and he draws me close.

He views me from hooded eyes, rebuilding my anticipation.

“Set me free,” I say, understanding what he meant when he said it to me the last time he was here.

I need him to release me. Bid me permission to touch him.

His view drops to my chest. The pad of his finger draws a steady, gentle trail between my naked breasts. My flesh dances with heat from the provocative light stroke.

“If I release you.” His finger travels back up, circling my nipple. His eyes lift to mine. He plucks my hard tip with his fingers. “I may never let you go.”

A moan purses from my lips. His mouth apprehends mine, claiming every one of my senses. I never want him to let go.

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