Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
His shattering thrusts hurtled me over the brink. “Yes, yes, YES!” I screamed, my vision blurring. My back bowed, my tits slipping across his sweating chest.
“Blyad´! I feel you!” As my core clenched him, he bit out, “Your greedy pussy’s milking my cock. You’ll have every last—ahh!—fucking drop out of me!”
Hot. Wet. Bliss.
Continuing on and on and on . . .
Just when I could take no more, he shoved into me one last time. A long satisfied sound rumbled from his chest. His lids slid shut, and he collapsed over me.
I lay boneless beneath him, my limbs splayed. I moaned when his cock twitched inside me; he groaned when my pussy continued to squeeze his shaft.
As if our bodies wanted more of each other.
He nuzzled my neck, his exhalations tickling my damp skin. His heart thundered against my chest.
By the way he’d reacted, I began to think I might’ve given him an FOTC.
CHAPTER 5
I patted his ass, sighing, “Not bad, Máxim.”
With a half frown/half scowl, he withdrew, revealing a condom filled with more semen than I’d ever seen.
“Un hombre viril.” I stretched out on the couch, grinning from ear to ear, finally understanding the term fuck-drunk.
Rising, he yanked off the rubber and dragged on his pants. “You’re pleased with yourself.”
“Pleased in general.”
“I don’t ever lose control like that. I never come until I’m ready to.” His harsh tone was accusatory, as if I’d done something unforgivable.
Qué cosa? Huh? “This took me by surprise as well.” I rose to look for my clothes.
“You don’t make a habit of getting off with your clients?”
“No.”
Again, he clearly didn’t believe what the hooker was saying. “Something about me in particular must be ‘special’ and ‘different’ among your clientele. I suppose coming with each of your dates, all day long, would be an occupational hazard.”
Wouldn’t know. By the time I’d collected my clothes, he was already in the next room. Shame. I’d wanted to see him from the back.
I heard the shower running and had no idea what I was supposed to do. Leave? Get ready for round two? I donned my underwear, then grabbed my phone, ringing Ivanna.
After I’d given her a rundown of everything, she sputtered, “Maksimilian Sevastyan?”
“Yes. You’ve heard of him?”
“Of course! He’s a politician and a billionaire!”
The former interested me more than the latter. My father had been in politics too. Not that I’d ever tell the Russian. And not that he’d ever believe me if I did.
Ivanna continued, “He’s one of Europe’s most eligible bachelors, but no one can land him. Damn Botox! Is he as gorgeous up close as he is in pictures?”
“He’s DDG.”
“Have you talked about me at all?” she demanded.
I rolled my eyes. “Tell me what I do now!”
“The payout was excellent, so upsell him for the whole night. You’re already at his place, have spent money and time on clothes, makeup, and transpo.”
The kids in my business courses had nothing on Ivanna the Escort’s expertise. Or mine, for that matter. “You’re right. Sunk costs.” Economics informed the decisions I made every day.
“Act as if he rocked your world,” Ivanna said, the phrase almost comical with her accent. “Like he is the best lover you ever had.” He is! “Make him think he’s the only one you’ll give your private number to. They eat that shit up.”
“But it is private.” I hadn’t even allowed her to give it to the agency. “I don’t want anyone else to have it.”
“We’ll get you a new number this week. For now, your job is to play to his ego and get him for the rest of the night—or to snag a future date. Though that isn’t likely to happen.”
“Why not?”
“He’s never booked the same woman twice. Oh! I could still get a date before he leaves town! Maksimilian Sevastyan, can you imagine?”
Yes, Ivanna, yes, I can. She was going to have sex with a guy I’d screwed. She’d know his mighty body, would get high on his scent. At the thought, my emotions, which had been up and down all night, took a header.
When the shower stopped, I hung up the phone, hurrying to the bedroom. I leaned against the doorway of the suite. Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I acted all alluring.
He exited the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips. Por Dios, that body. How could one man be so utterly blessed?
Before I could say anything about another go, he scowled. “You’re still here?”
My lips parted. He’d expected me to let myself out, without even saying good-bye?
Yes. Because my purpose had been served. He was looking at me like he might look at a used condom. Oooh, this man got my back up! He’d been all excitement and passion before; now the icy chill was back.
He sat on the edge of the bed, casting me a disgusted look. “I suppose you remain in the hopes of upselling me for the rest of the night. Maybe even offering me your private line?”
Although that was precisely what I’d been advised to do, I gave him a haughty smile. “I’m good for the night, and my private line stays private, querido. I’m just on my way out.”
When he dropped his towel and climbed into the high bed, I turned to find my dress. From the bedroom, he gazed out into the sitting area, rising up on an elbow. I caught him ogling my body, actually tilting his head for maximal viewing.
Keep looking—last time you’ll ever get to see it.
Once I’d gotten my dress on, he lost interest and shifted over on his back, bending one brawny arm behind his head. I’d been so affected by what we’d done, while he behaved as if he’d just completed a bodily function.
It hurt. I wanted to hurt him back. “Apparently I need to remind you that tips aren’t included.”
In a forbidding tone, he said, “There’s cash on the dressing room console.”
I found a gold money clip filled with hundreds. Maybe two grand’s worth. “How much?” I called.
“Take whatever you think your performance deserves.”