Reece
After catching a few hours of sleep while wrapped in his arms, surrounded by what have to be million thread count sheets, I’m standing in the most amazing bathroom I’ve ever seen in my life. My jaw drops as I take in the multiple shower heads, the expanse of spotless white marble, and—hell, is this floor heated? The tiles feel warm beneath my feet.
He’s got calls to make. By the time I woke up, he was already showering. He gave me a quick kiss, then left me to my own devices. I was grateful for the time. I need a moment alone.
I need to process.
I push the buttons. All of the buttons. Heat comes down from a fan in the ceiling, warming my naked body. Water streams from two showerheads, as well as trickling down from a rain shower positioned over the center of the floor.
My feet dance along the heated floor. I can’t believe this is all mine for the time being.
Standing under the steamy water, I take a moment to let it massage me and think over what just happened.
Did I just have sex with Bryant Long. Twice? Holy shit. And it was the best sex I’ve ever had.
I always wondered what it would be like to be with an older man. Did the experience live up to my fantasy? Hell, yes.
Yeah—there’s a difference between fucking a twenty-year-old guy that has no idea who he is, versus a man who's almost two decades older than me.
He knows what he wants. And he takes it. And, damn…does he know how to take it.
I thought this whole crazy stalker-daddy thing was just about sex. Giving him something he wanted—me—for something I needed.
That damn key.
But now, here with him, the key is the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, I still need it. Desperately. I hate the idea of it still being in his possession and not mine. But I no longer want this thing between me and him to be just about the stupid key.
When I was sitting on his lap, his cock deep inside me, his strong protective arms wrapped around me…I felt like I was at…home? Is that the word? Home feels like too much, too meaningful for fucking on a floor, but I can’t think of another word to describe it.
I just felt like I was home…
Like he is my home…
Crazy? Right?
I don’t even know anything about him. Not really. What was that massive, swirling tattoo he had? The thing covered almost half of one side of his upper chest. It’s got to mean something to him. Or be a part of his past.
I know nothing about his past, do I?
And he’s just learning about mine…
If I had my way, we’d leave my past in the past and he wouldn’t learn anything else about me.
But now, I want to know everything about him. Every little detail. I guess sex does that to you, ties you to someone emotionally in a way you might not be prepared for.
I was not prepared to feel like this about him.
I need to get a grip, to come back to reality. To remember...
This little fling has an expiration date on it.
He’s just a restless billionaire having a fun time with an innocent, naive twenty-one-year-old. He’ll get bored of me eventually and toss me to the side.
Won’t he?
His voice still echoes in my mind, That’s right, baby. Daddy’s going to make you come, and delicious shivers run down my spine.
I wash my hair then find a sponge, pouring lavender-scented bath gel over it. There’s a soreness between my thighs as I clean him from my skin. It feels good. I like the reminder of what we did together.
The products in the shower feel amazing against my skin and hair. No expense is spared here at this hotel. No expense was spared by him. Crazy to think the staff prepared all of this under his direction.
The realization that I traveled on a private jet to stay in this fancy hotel, in London, and am about to get a free one-month tour of Europe courtesy of my billionaire daddy escort…hits me. Hard.
I can’t help the smile that surfaces on my face. I think it’s going to last the entirety of the trip.
It’s funny. I’ve enjoyed this time alone but now I’m starting to miss him. God—that’s so silly, isn’t it? I mean, he’s in the next room, for goodness sake. But I want to see him. I want to see the gown he’s chosen for me to wear tonight. I want to know where he’s taking me to eat. And I want him to kiss me…
I step out of the shower, reaching for the towel.
The huge fluffy white towel is…warm? Oh my god, the towel bar even has a heater. I press the soft warmth into my face, patting it dry. There’s a robe. I wrap it around my body, finding a round brush and blow dryer to blow out my hair.
As I pull the last lock of my hair out into a silky wave, I hear him calling me.
“Baby. Time to get ready.”
I go to him. He’s already dressed. He looks incredible, wearing a dark gray suit jacket with a pinstriped shirt underneath. He holds a black garment bag in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind. I know my assistant packed plenty for you but I ordered this from the plane.”
Holy shit—he ordered me a gown on the way here?
“You like to spoil me,” I say. A pleasant warmth rises in me. He’s done so much for me.
"I love to spoil you." His eyes hold mine as he slowly unties to the belt of my robe. His hands go to my shoulder, tingles dancing over my skin as he pushes the robe away, letting it fall to the ground. My only covering puddles around my feet, discarded, leaving me bare. His appreciative gaze travels down my naked body. “Because you’re perfect. Aren’t you?”
I think about my past. The way I stalked him to get closer to my key…
I think about the reason I need the key…
No, I’m not perfect. Far from it, Mr. Long Daddy…
I swallow back my guilt. “Um, no. But that’s sweet.”
He senses my unease, his gaze staying on my face a beat too long. Sometimes I wonder if this man can read my mind. He goes to ask a question, then thinks better of it.
I change the subject. “Can I see the gown?” I feel an excited flurry of anticipation in my belly.
“Yes. I can’t wait to see you in it. And the best part about this dress?”
“Yes?” I ask, my breath catching in my chest as he pulls the zipper down, exposing a sliver of silky lavender.
A wicked look flashes through his gaze. “You don’t need anything underneath.”
The dress moves over my body like the water from the rain shower gliding over my skin. A pale lavender color I’d never have bought from myself, made of pure silk. The neckline plunges in a deep-v. My bare breasts are perfectly encased by the fabric, but there’s nothing there to hide my peaked nipples. You can see the outline of my hipbones, the crack of my ass as I move.
I can’t hide my body from him in this dress, even though I’m fully covered. I may as well be naked. Just like how I can’t hide my thoughts or my feelings from him even though I try to wear a mask. He just keeps getting deeper and deeper inside me.
He takes me in his arms. “God, you’re so beautiful.” He slips a long curl of my hair over the back of my shoulder, his fingers gliding over my exposed collarbone.
He kisses me and for one perfect moment, I buy the lie he’s selling me. I pretend he cares about me. That he’ll take care of me. That he does all this for me because he wants me.
That I’m not disposable.
That I’m not a toy.
That we might even have a future together after this trip.
As his kisses get more fevered, I remember what I am to him.
Am I any different than a sex worker? I mean, what did this dress cost?
Something he wants for something I need…
An exchange of goods.
That’s all I am to him.
I want to dive deeper into his kiss, but I can’t.
I pull away, hiding my gaze from his.
Of course, he won’t let me hide from him. He captures my chin, tilting my gaze to his. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” I lie.
“Tell me.” His other hand smooths over my ass, his gentle touch drifts over the delicate fabric. “You know how I feel about lying, little girl.”
What can I say? I look into his heated gaze. He expects an answer.
I give a little shrug. “I don’t know. I just…I feel like I’m…”
Many words spin through my mind but none of them find my tongue.
I feel like your toy?
Disposable?
Like time is ticking down, a little clock sitting on my shoulder, telling me that this paradise will soon be over?
He squeezes my ass. His fingers dig into my skin, pain shooting through my curves. I shoot up on tiptoe, sucking air between my teeth.
“Talk,” he commands.
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. His punishing hand makes the words rush to my mouth. “I just don’t know where this is going. You know. Between us.”
“Where this is going?” He looks deep into my eyes. Deep down, down, down, till I can almost feel him inside of me. “We’re already there.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
He cups my face in his palm. “You’re my girl. It’s already done.”
“But for how long?” I ask. “When we get home, won’t you want to move on?”
He gives a dark chuckle. “Babygirl, we haven’t even gotten started.”
And he kisses me. And for a moment, the doubts melt away.
He takes me down the hall, to a rooftop restaurant that overlooks the city. He makes sure we get a table against the massive bank of windows. The lights of London sparkle against the dark sky.
He holds a black leather chair out for me. I slide my legs underneath the white tablecloth. Crystal water glasses are full and waiting for us. Wine goblets sit empty, ready for us to choose red or white. I smooth a linen napkin over my lap, taking in the view.
I can see all of Hyde Park.
He orders sparkling water and a charcuterie tray to start and steaks for the entree. I sip the bubbly drink, nibble on delicate meats, and I just stare.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” I think to myself.
“Believe it,” he says, reaching for an olive and popping it in his mouth.
“Did I say that out loud?” I giggle, piercing a pepper with my fork as our steaks arrive.
“You did. And it was adorable.” He slices a sliver of beef from his plate, holding his fork out to me. “Try this.”
I lean forward, taking the bite from his fork with the tips of my teeth. Damn…I’ve never tasted steak this tender before. “That’s amazing.” I dab at my mouth with the corner of my napkin.
“It’s Wagyu,” he says, taking his own bite. “They fly it in from Japan.”
“Of course they do,” I laugh, dipping the tines of my fork into tender, rosemary-dotted potatoes. “This is the life, isn’t it?”
“It is.” His voice drops an octave, his gaze caressing my face. “If you have someone to share it with.”
I can tell by the softness in his tone that he means what he says. He wants me. I’m not disposable. And I love spending time with him. All the billionaire amenities he comes with are just a bonus.
But…and this is a huge but…everything is moving so quickly. I’m losing control. I feel as if the ground under my feet is quaking, threatening to crumble, leaving me to freefall. I’m not entirely sure I want to tumble into the center of the earth.
He reaches out, grabbing my hand in his. “I want to know more about you. I want to feel close to you. Tell me more about your past. Tell me about Sheffield.”
Nooooooo…
The delicious buttery potatoes sink to the bottom of my stomach. Why does he have to take a perfect night and ruin it like this? Dread settles around my shoulders. “How about instead, you tell me what you want?”
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that night in your warehouse, you said something I need for something you want. What did you want?”
“You.” He looks at me like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “I wanted you.”
Warmth creeps in, melting my guard, making me believe he really might want me.
“Now, tell me about Sheffield.”
I take a sip from my sparkling water. I offer him a smile but it feels tight, fake. My voice is too high as I speak. “What do you want to know?” I cross my fork and knife over my plate. I’m done. I’ve lost my appetite.
His brow knits together. “Why do you get like this?”
“Like what?” I pull my hand from his, fiddling with the napkin in my lap.
He folds his arms across his chest, pushing his chair back from the table. His eyes are on my face, heavy and demanding.
I squirm under his gaze.
He’s not going to let me out of this one.
“You know exactly what I mean, babygirl. I want to know why every time your past comes up, you look like you want to run.”
“You really want to know?” I ask.
“Yes.”
My answer forms in my mind, but I can’t say the words out loud. Instead, they swirl around my brain, heavy and hurting…
Because if you knew the real me, daddy, you wouldn’t want me anymore.