Boyfriend for Hire(14)

“Just be sure to bring him back in one piece,” Elle replies with a wink.

“I promise. Besides, my husband was wanting to dance with his sister, so I thought this was the perfect opportunity for us to swap.”

Christine forces a laugh and jerks me away. I smile calmly to Elle and mentally prepare myself for whatever new element is about to be added to this job. Good thing I stuck to my one-drink rule.

She leads me to a small hallway around the corner from the dance floor, where the volume is a bit lower and the lighting slightly dimmer. Christine finally releases my arm, facing me straight on, her shoulders squared with mine. Although she’s still in her pretty white wedding gown, she definitely looks ready for battle. Before she even opens her mouth to speak, her body language says it all. She’s pissed.

“Elle wants to sleep with you tonight,” Christine says, her tone warning.

Well, shit. I raise my eyebrows. “Okay . . .”

“I just want to make it clear that that’s not what I’m paying for. Plus, I’m sure it costs extra.”

She’s not wrong. Sex does cost extra. Part of me wants to respond with something witty, but it’s clear she’s upset, and I’m not about to be the man who makes a woman feel worse. Especially on her wedding day.

“Things won’t get that far. You don’t need to worry, Christine. I’m a professional.” I keep my tone calm and relaxed, trying to exude as much confidence as possible.

But on the inside? I have no idea how I’ll manage to say no to Elle. Not when all I really want to do is to pull her into this hallway and pound her into a wall.

Suddenly, it hits me. Elle told Christine she wants to sleep with me. That’s the only reason we’re having this conversation right now.

A small smile crosses my lips. So she does want me. Bad. It’s not like she’s the first woman in the world to do so. But Elle’s different. For some reason, knowing she’s itching to jump my bones means a whole lot more than the other women who pay for it.

Christine seems to watch my thought process cross my face, and her eyes narrow. “Things are going a little too well, if you ask me,” she mutters. She crosses her arms and stands up straighter, challenging me.

“Sorry I’m so good at my job.” I chuckle.

Her face darkens. “Yes, but Elle doesn’t know it’s a job, asshole. This is real for her. You have to be careful. I swear to God, if you hurt her, I will end you.”

With that, Christine turns and marches away, her wedding dress rustling with the movement. The venom in her voice lingers in the air around me. And it stings. Worse than I thought it would.

Of course, I knew going into this that Elle was just a job. But from the moment I met her, everything felt different. It never felt like work. This wasn’t me on my best, most dazzling behavior trying to impress some rich cougar. This was me just being myself, having fun with a girl close to my own age.

And now that I know she’s attracted to me, that she wants me too? Everything is even more complicated.

It’s against company policy to sleep with clients who aren’t paying for it. Mixing business and pleasure is a huge no-no in our line of work. It’s normal for things to get confusing for our clients—they’re the ones who forget they’re paying for it while it happens. But for me? The fact that I’m working needs to always be at the forefront of my mind.

I have to say no to Elle. It’s the right thing to do. But turning down sex with a beautiful woman, the kind of woman who makes me wish I’d met her under any other circumstance, who reminds me of the kind of man I want to be one day? Yeah, that’s not going to be an easy thing to do. I haven’t had sex just for pleasure in a long time. Probably at least a year. God, that’s fucking depressing to think about.

But I definitely can’t take Elle to bed without her knowing the score.

I return to the dance floor to find Elle dancing with her mom. We make eye contact and she smiles, her whole face lighting up at the sight of me. Guess she isn’t going to make this easy on me.

I make my way toward her, slip my hand around her waist, and lean closer to bring my lips to her ear. “Can I get you something to drink?”

She nods, taking my hand in hers and swaying her hips. We dance our way over to the bar, where I grab her another glass of champagne, and we continue dancing.

If I thought Elle was sexy just standing around and talking, dancing with her is a whole other ball game. The way she moves her hips drives me crazy, and it doesn’t take long for her to start rubbing up against me, her arms swaying above her head while she moves her ass over the front of my pants.

Hello, hard dick.

Not helpful.

Slowly, she turns to face me, our mouths only inches apart. Her big blue eyes travel over my face, landing on my lips, and she places her hands on my chest. I need to strategically adjust what’s happening in my pants before I give myself away.

“Want to get some air?” Her breath is hot on my skin.

I nod and take her hand, leading her to the balcony. I guess balconies are becoming our thing.

“So, when you were little, did you imagine yourself going into this line of work?”

Her question is innocent enough, but for a moment, I freeze. Then I remember—she thinks I work in finance. My shoulders relax, and I flash her a smile.

“Not exactly. When I was five, I wanted to be a lion tamer. Probably not very realistic.”