Late Call (Volume 1) (9 page)

“Dayton!”

“Liv? Why are you calling me, you crazy bitch?”

“Because I’m half-asleep, and fuck it all, I miss my best friend!”

“And drunk.”

“I’m sorry. Did you not hear that? I fucking miss you!”

Definitely drunk.

“I know. I miss you too, Liv. You’d love it here.”

“Wait. Where are you?”

“Sydney.” I kick the water. “By the pool with a Blow Job in my hand.”

“Babe, that better be the cocktail or I wanna know why you’re talking and not sucking.”

I laugh. “It’s the cocktail. I’ve never seen a bartender blush so much.”

“You did it deliberately. Okay. Enough bullshit. How’s McDreamy?”

“You mean Aaron.”

“Pssh. I want details.”

“Of what? How he’s my client and I’m working?”

“Fuck you, Dayton Lauren Black. If you think for one second that I, your best friend, believe you can sleep in the same bed as that gorgeous man and be at his side most of the day and not want him, you need a slap upside the head.”

I look down and sigh. “I don’t want to talk tonight. Are you free tomorrow? Uh, my tomorrow.”

“Tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Skype date?”

“As long as you bring Pop Tarts.”

“On it, babe. Just… You’re okay, right?”

I smile sadly at my feet. “Yeah, I’m okay. No losing my shit over a guy, remember?”

“Good. I don’t look forward to getting on a plane to kick your ass. I’m going to bed now because this chat has probably cost me a hundred bucks already because my stupid plan doesn’t include stupid international minutes. Goodnight, I love you, and absolutely do not be good.” She kisses down the phone and hangs up. I shake my head and grab my flip-flops.

I leave my cocktail on the table and walk to the main lobby. My eyes find the concierge desk. They must have switched shifts while I was talking because now a young guy is sitting behind it. He looks uncertain, his eyes flitting about nervously. And goddamn, I’m a bitch, but I’m using this to my advantage.

I saunter up to him with my best smile. “Hi there.” I look at this name badge. “Steven.”

“Uh, hello there, madam.”

“Dayton Black. I’m finished with my call. Here’s your phone.” I shoot him a dazzling smile and he accepts the phone with a shaky hand.

“Thank you, Miss Black.”

“Steven, I was wondering…” I lean on the counter. “Could you do me a little favor? I need to send a message to someone back in Seattle, but my international thing hasn’t been set up yet.”

“Um. Of course I can. If you just, uh…” He grabs a pen and paper and gives it to me. “Write the details down here. I’ll do it right away.”

I smile widely and scribble a note.

To Monique Park, from Dayton Black.

Pay Liv two hundred for international calls. I owe you—take extra from the next.

And get my cell sorted so it works. I don’t wanna be paying her crap again. Thanks xo

I hand him the message with her contact details and touch his arm. “You’re a doll, Steven. Thank you so much.”

“You’re… You’re welcome, Miss Black. Oh, Mr. Stone. Can I help you?”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and I turn to Aaron. He’s amused and pissed off simultaneously. I rest my hand against his chest.

“Hey, baby. Did your call go well?”

“It did.” He wraps an arm around my back.

“How’s your dad?”

“He’s fine. Are you harassing the concierge?”

I raise my eyebrows and glance at Steven. “Of course not. He’s just sending a message for me, and he’s been so helpful. He’s a real doll.”

“I’m sure he is,” he says. “If you’ll excuse us, Steven, I believe I need to have a chat with my woman.”

With my woman?

He guides me into the penthouse elevator without a word. We make the journey in complete silence, his hand curved at my hip and his eyes forward. His body is tense, and annoyance radiates from him.

What did I do now?

The concierge—oh. I threatened to sleep with one just a few days ago. Double oh.

Aaron moves me out of the elevator and into our suite. Still keeping his silence, he pulls off his tie and rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. I stand by the doors and sink my teeth into my lower lip in feigned ignorance.

After a small slice of forever, he turns. Dark blue, angry eyes hit me. “You seem to have a thing for concierges.”

“I needed to send a message to Monique.”

“And you needed the concierge for that?”

I wave my phone before throwing it on the sofa. “No international calls yet. I’m like a hermit.”

“And you needed to get the message to her right fucking now?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” He flattens his hands against the door.

I tilt my head back to look at him. “Because my best friend is an idiot who thinks calling Australia from Seattle is a smart idea when her only steady income just about pays her bills.” I jab him in the chest. “My message to Monique was to pay her the cost and then some in case she calls me again and to sort out my international shit. Don’t worry. I wasn’t trying to fuck the concierge. Not that I wouldn’t, given the chance. He’s kind of—”

Aaron takes my lips with his and cuts me off. He wastes no time sweeping his tongue through my mouth, dominating the kiss and every one of my thoughts. He tugs my bottom lip between his teeth. My stomach coils, and each time I feel his teeth against my lip, the same old ache starts up. It deepens, spreading from the tip of my clit to right inside me, and I squeeze my legs together. Holy…

“The next time I see you talking to a concierge, any concierge, I’m doing that right in front of him.”

“Oh, please. You say it like it’s such a hardship. You’d love to do that in public.”

“And let every guy in the immediate area know you’re off-limits? Damn straight,
baby
.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He rubs my swollen lips. “You were being very unfair to him, you know.”

I straighten. “I was not!”

“You were. I watched you the whole time. You had the guy completely spellbound, Dayton. You don’t realize how incredibly beautiful you are, and you emit a raw sexuality that makes every guy you pass look at you. It’s palpable. I know exactly when you walk into a room because of it. It hits me full force. I know how far away from me you are because I feel it.”

I
have a raw sexuality? This coming from the guy who makes my skin hum so badly I turn into a walking vibrator.

“Do you feel it now?”

“Feel what?”

“My ‘raw sexuality.’”

“I can’t not feel it. It calls out to me, and that’s exactly why I can’t touch you again right now. If I touch you, being mad at you and wanting you this badly will end up in you coming again. Likely on my tongue.”

He pushes away and strolls into the kitchen area. My heart is pounding in my chest as I imagine me pressed against this door and him on his knees. As I imagine my legs hooked over his shoulders and his hands cupping my ass and holding me up and his tongue gliding along my pussy and across my clit…

I glance up and meet his eyes. “Fuck you,” I mutter, turning to the bedroom. “Fuck you one hundred times over.”

“You will. Soon enough.”

Aaron’s arms slide around me and grab the mug of coffee I just made.

“Hey! That’s mine.” I spin right into his grinning face.

“It was yours. I have to run.” He downs it. “I won’t be back all day—probably just in time to get ready for the party tonight.”

“Okay.” I tilt my head back. “What do I wear?”

A smile curves his gorgeous lips, and he brushes his thumb across my cheek. “Not that it matters what you wear, but it’s formal. So something long but sexy.”

“Long but sexy?”

“Excuse me if I want everyone to know the most beautiful woman in the room belongs to me.” His smile widens as he leans in and touches his lips to mine. “Behave today. I left you my card on the nightstand. Go and buy that something long but sexy.”

“What if I have something?”

“I don’t care if you have something. I’m telling you to go and buy a dress, Dayton, so do it. I want you there tonight in something
I
bought you.”

I narrow my eyes. “I can buy my own dress.”

“But you’re not going to. You’re going to take my goddamn card and buy yourself something.”

“
Your
card?”

“Yes, my fucking card. Jesus Christ, Day. I have the company card. You have mine. I am buying you a dress, not my father. Spend whatever.”

The hardness in his eyes tells me that he isn’t budging, and I give in. Reluctantly. Because I despise things being bought for me.

“Fine. I’ll take your card and buy a dress. But I’m warning you, Aaron.” I skip from his hold and point my finger at him, walking backward to the bedroom. “I’m buying the whole shebang. Dress, shoes, purse, jewelry.
All
of it.”

He opens the elevator doors and smirks. “Get your nails and hair done while you’re at it. You have a few split ends.”

“Fuck you!” I shout as he disappears behind the closing doors.

Do I?

I grab a section of hair between my fingers and pull it in front of my face. My eyes flit over it, examining it, and I drop it with a curse.

“Bastard,” I mutter to the buzzing of my phone.

Kidding,
he texts.
Your hair is perfect.

I’m making you pay for that, asshole.

Good.

I toss my phone on the bed and look at the time. Shit. Skype date with Liv!

I run into the front room area and pull my laptop from its case. The Wi-Fi connects in seconds, and two minutes later, I’m staring at the blond bombshell that is my best friend.

“Spill. Everything,” she demands.

“Hello to you too. I’m having an okay time but I miss you like crazy. Hope everything is good in Seattle.” I stick my middle finger up.

Liv laughs. “Everything is fine in Seattle, I miss you ten times more, and you should be having an amazing time. Not an okay one. I mean, hello! Have you seen Mr. Aaron Stone? He’s a walking fucking orgasm.”

“Considering I see him every day and sleep next to him each night, I’d say yes, I have seen him. I’m very well acquainted with him and his looks.”

“Sarcastic bitch.” She sighs. “Seriously, babe, what’s up? You look like you need a girls’ night.”

“Oh, Liv. I do. So badly.” I rest my head on my hand and stare at my screen. “This job is impossible.”

“Nah, it’s not, baby girl. You can get through it. Only four and a half weeks to go, right?”

“Right.” I sigh. “Liv?”

“Yeah?”

I chew on the inside on my lip as I mull over what to say. “Have you ever wanted someone so badly it hurt to look at them? Like, your world would fall apart if you didn’t have at least one touch from them each day? Like nothing else matters except the all-encompassing feeling of their lips against yours?”

“Yeah, I feel that way about you every day.” She laughs. “Kidding. Kind of. Um, not really.”

I sigh again, more heavily this time. “It sucks. It sucks Big Foot balls, for real.”

Her eyes soften. “If you want him that badly, why don’t you have him?”

“Because. It’s dangerous. I already have to kiss him a hundred times a day, touch his cheek, stare into his eyes like I’m helplessly in love with him… If I had to have sex with him too, I think I’d die.”

“You haven’t had sex with him yet?”

“That’s what you took from that?”

“Seriously? You sleep next to that each night and you don’t fuck his gorgeous brains out?”

“Liv!”

“Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my blunt-talking best friend?” She taps the webcam to make her point. “Sex is your fucking job, Dayton. It’s what you do for a living.”

“He hasn’t called it in. He said on the flight to Vegas it was optional, and he’s since said he won’t until I want him for him. Until I don’t treat him like he’s my client.”

“But he is your client.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t get it.”

I bury my face in my hands and rub my eyes. “I do. I get it.”

“Explain.”

A small, bitter laugh leaves me—a bitter laugh tinged with sadness. “He remembers everything, Liv. Every single thing about that summer is encased in his memory, and every chance he has, he reminds me.” I swallow and look down. “Everything.”

“Holy mother of...”

“Yeah.” I nod roughly. “He wants me, Liv. Not as his escort or the girl to keep his bed warm.”

“Okay, you don’t know that for certain, do you?”

I smack the table. “He still calls me fucking Bambi!”

Her silence is telling. Ironically deafening. “Shit.”

“You really need to work on getting some stronger cuss words. Shit doesn’t cover any situation where Aaron Stone is concerned.”

She shrugs. “S’all I got, baby girl. What are you gonna do?”

“Long term? Not a fucking clue. Short term?” I hold up the card I pulled from the nightstand. His card.

“Is that a black Express card?”

I nod. “I’ve been ordered to go shopping.”

“Well, shit. Send something back for your poor model friend, won’t you?”

“I don’t think I can fit a hunky Australian in a box.”

“Plane tickets to said Australian will be fine.” She grins. “Look, I gotta get to work. By the way, you didn’t have to pay me back for that call. It’s cool.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Okay. Monique said your calls will be sorted in two days, so you can call me next time. Got that?”

“Got it.”

We end the video call and I close the laptop down. That was as helpful as it was a hindrance. I love her, but sometimes I wonder if having someone who understands anything past a casual hook-up would be a good idea.

The red strapless bra hugs my breasts perfectly, giving them just enough lift above the neckline of the equally red dress I’m wearing. The satin hugs my body perfectly before flaring at my knees in a mermaid-style skirt. It’s the sexiest classy dress I’ve ever worn, and it leaves nothing to the imagination while keeping everything hidden.

I smooth my dark hair back and grab a lipstick from my makeup bag. The fire-engine red color is smooth as I slide it across my lips. I grab the black purse I bought to match the dress with a trembling hand.

Aaron decided to call at four and tell me that tonight isn’t just any party. It’s a party in his honor. For the man who will soon be the CEO, the boss, the owner of the global whirlwind that is Stone Advertising. “Sorry,” he said. “Should have mentioned that.”

“You asshole,” is what I said. Give a girl some time to prepare appropriately.

For that, I spent an extra six hundred dollars on this dress and hated every cent of it. The temptation to whip out and hand over my own card was almost consuming.

I run my hands along my sides to smooth the dress. But damn, it’s worth every penny. Aaron wanted sexy, and sexy is what he’s going to get.

“Holy fuck.”

His voice echoes through the room and wraps me in a warm bubble of pleasure and smugness.

I turn my face to the side and catch his eye. “Is the dress okay?”

“Okay? You’re standing in front of a fucking mirror and you’re asking me if it’s okay?” He crosses the room and rests his hands on my sides. He drops a kiss to my bare shoulder. “There’s no way you won’t be the most beautiful woman in the room tonight. If every guy doesn’t have their eyes on you the whole time, they need their eyes tested. Shit, Dayton. You look fucking incredible.”

I look at the floor and smile.

“No.” He cups my jaw from behind and lifts my face to the mirror. “You don’t get to look at the floor. Look in this mirror and see how devastatingly beautiful you look.”

“Shut up,” I murmur. “It’s just a dress.”

“No. It’s the woman that makes the dress. And you? You make this dress something that borders on illegal.” He lowers his mouth to my ear. “Tell me I bought this.”

“You did. And the shoes.” I stick out my foot, which is wrapped in a black stiletto.

“Good. Now I know every part of you, including your clothes, belongs to me. And I’ll be thinking of that when every man in the room tonight is undressing you with his eyes. More importantly, I’ll be a smug bastard knowing you’re leaving with me tonight.” His lips brush the nape of my neck. “I’m going to shower and change. Don’t move.”

I nod. An unexpected emptiness fills me when he releases me, and I perch on the end of the bed, staring at myself in the mirror as the shower starts.

Wishing I could see myself the way he sees me.

I know I’m good-looking. I can pull off sexy and cute and everything in between. But to supposedly look so beautiful that you can devastate a powerful man like Aaron? That’s something I’ve always believed was beyond me.

Until now. Looking in this shining mirror, with my dark eyes and red lips, my face framed by a head of dark brown curls, my body encased in red satin, I believe I’m beautiful.

I believe I’m beautiful enough to be more than just a casual fuck for a guy that can spare a few hundred dollars.

Because that is the essence of my job. It was. It should be. It’s supposed to be.

My title is high-class call girl. An escort.

In reality, I’m nothing more than a whore. An expensive one, but still a whore.

And I know that.

But I’m not with Aaron.

I’m something. Someone he’s proud to have on his arm and introduce to people. I’m someone he doesn’t mind pushing into the public eye as something that belongs to him. Someone he doesn’t mind the world knowing about.

That takes me above and beyond the title of whore, escort, high-class girl call.

It makes me Dayton.

The bathroom door clicks as Aaron walks into the room. A towel is wrapped around his waist, soaking up every drop of water that falls down his sculpted body.

I know that body. I know every dip and crevice, and I know what spot turns him on and what makes him groan with pleasure.

And I can’t watch when he changes or I might just touch those spots in a moment of impulsive insanity.

Aaron stands in front of me, clad in a tailored suit and bow tie. His fingers wrap around mine and he pulls me to standing. His eyes never leave mine as he tugs me up, and they only do when he stands behind me. Then they leave me for a handful of seconds until our gazes meet again in the mirror.

“Never doubt it,” he murmurs, running his hands down my arms to mine. “Never doubt your ability to walk into a room and stun every man into wanting you.”

I swallow and let him link his fingers through mine.

“Never doubt the way you walk into a room and make every man in there want you. And never ever doubt how beautiful you are to me. Not even for a second.”

“You and I see different things,” I whisper.

“You see things jaded by what you believe.” He rests his chin upon on my shoulder. “I see the raw truth of you. I see that you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, and I’ll spend as long as I have by your side convincing you of that.”

A long moment passes as we stare into each other’s eyes in the mirror. A long moment that seems to be everlasting. That makes me want to cocoon myself in his arms and not go this damn party tonight.

“We should go,” I say softly. “You can’t be late to your own party.”

He chuckles. “I suppose not. I could always blame it on you, you know.”

“Try it, Mr. Stone, and I’ll be forced to publicly kick your ass.”