Yours for the Night

by Jasmine Haynes

  She sure didn’t tell Isabel that. She hadn’t told Jewel either. Jewel would totally freak out, so Marianna hadn’t had the courage even to call her.

  “When he’s no longer interested”—thinking about it seemed to curdle the 75

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  cream in her coffee—“I’ll consider increasing my client list.” She grabbed a lid for her cup.

  “Marianna, I just think that four dates in a little over two weeks is escalating beyond where a courtesan should go.”

  “But this was his fantasy, a girlfriend experience. That’s what I’m giving him.”

  A couple moved up to the condiment bar. Marianna grabbed her coffee and shifted away, lowering her voice. “We both know it’s just a fantasy.”

  Except that sometimes Marianna dreamed it was more.

  “I’m only suggesting that you keep it on a casual basis.”

  Marianna wasn’t like Jewel. She wasn’t good at casual sexual relationships. She knew that for the moment she was living in a secret world she’d created for herself. In a little while, she’d have to worry about next month’s bills, but for now, today, tomorrow, she didn’t care. She’d enjoy Chase for as long as she could. “I promise to just have fun and not get too serious. Might I ask if he called?” She didn’t want to sound desperate.

  “He did. He’s planned something for Thursday night.” Isabel sighed. “I don’t need to ask if you’re interested.”

  Marianna actually counted the days before she’d see him. “Thursday would be great.” So great. “Did he mention where we’d be going?”

  “Only that you should dress very casually—jeans, sweatshirt, that kind of attire. Meet him outside the San Jose Fairmont at six. You can park in the hotel garage.”

  The Fairmont. A ritzy hotel. What she’d been waiting for. But he wanted her to wear jeans and sweatshirt? That was odd. “Should I bring overnight things, then, since it’s a hotel?”

  “He didn’t say to do that.”

  Her stomach dropped. Okay, not what she was hoping for. But gee, it could be something better, and she wasn’t about to let herself get down. “I can be there by six.” She’d have enough time to get home, shower, put on fresh makeup. If she hurried.

  “Be careful not to get overly involved, Marianna.”

  “I won’t.”

  Too late—she already was.

  MARIANNA’S EYES DANCED WITH LAUGHTER AS SHE PERCHED ON the edge 76

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  of her seat. The crowd went ape as the lights dimmed, and the mammoth shark’s head dropped slowly from the arena ceiling. It landed, creating a tunnel from the locker room to the ice, and fake smoke swirled across the rink. Marianna’s knee brushed Chase’s as she screamed just as loudly as everyone else when the first player shot out of the shark’s mouth.

  “I cannot believe you wanted a date to a hockey game,” she shouted in his ear to be heard over the shrieks and catcalls as the opposing Hurricanes hit the ice.

  Chase knew she loved it. “There’s nothing like a game at the Shark Tank.”

  Chase used the noise as an excuse to nuzzle her hair. “I was a fan even when they played at the Cow Palace.”

  The opening lines of the national anthem began, and everyone stood. Flush up against his side, Marianna belted out the words, slightly off-key when she hit the high notes. His ears rang with all the shouting, screaming, and laughter mixed with the scratchy music over the loudspeakers. The spectators sat as the last note faded away, then came the coin toss, the slice of sticks across the ice, and the puck started flying. Marianna grabbed his hand and shouted a curse as an opposing player did . .

  . something. Chase didn’t see. He only had eyes for her, her cheeks glowing pink with excitement.

  He’d worn his Sharks jersey. It hadn’t been out of the drawer in a couple of years. After meeting at the Fairmont, they’d walked the three-quarters of a mile to the arena. He’d had her park in the hotel garage because it was safe there and because he’d wanted her to be surprised with their destination. She had been. Despite her comment, he felt her delight in his belly. The Sharks scored fast, the fans jumping to their feet and screeching. Marianna did, too, pulling him with her, throwing her arms around him and dancing in the foot space in front of their seats. He felt as if her body touched him everywhere—thighs, chest, cock, heart, mind. He drank her in, fingers clenching in her sweatshirt. Then she threw herself back in her seat, clapping, shouting. She’d be hoarse tomorrow.

  He watched her eye a steaming plastic container of nachos as a guy in the next seat started munching. She licked her lips. An overpowering urge to kiss her, touch her, took him over. A hand beneath the fall of hair at her nape, he pulled her close. “You want some nachos?”

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  She clutched the front of his jersey. “God, yes.”

  He felt her words as if she were begging for his cock, and when he rose to push his way out to the aisle, he was damn glad his jersey covered the evidence. He returned to find her heckling a couple of Hurricane fans seated in front of her. She laughed, stuck her tongue out, the two guys shook their fists. The symphony had been good, so had dinner and dancing. But this was fucking fantastic. He’d wanted something different, something unique, to watch her laugh, see her have fun. She surpassed every expectation he had. Grabbing a cheese-laden chip, she closed her eyes, savored the bite, then licked her lips clean. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to be with a woman who could enjoy a great big bite of life the way she did. She turned everything into an experience.

  “God, that was good,” she shouted. He could barely hear her. She dipped another chip in the tangy sauce and fed this one to him. Half the cheese ended up on his lips. Leaning in, she wiped him clean with her tongue. Then she nipped, and finally, she took his mouth in a short, hot kiss that sent his blood pumping like fire through his veins.

  If there hadn’t been ten thousand Sharks fans there, he’d have pulled her on top of him right where they sat.

  With the next score, she almost dumped the nachos on the floor. Chase rescued them. She covered her mouth and smiled an apology. Had she a clue what she did to him?

  He’d started out forcing himself to pretend she was a date, pretend what they were doing was reality, pretend the bad times with Rosie had never happened. But as Marianna sipped on her beer, then licked the foam mustache from her upper lip, he knew this was reality. Her. The way she laughed, the way she screamed an obscenity along with the rest of the crowd when a Hurricane player committed an egregious foul, the way she kissed, the way she made love. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. The way he felt about her was real.

  MARIANNA SHOOK HER TICKET AT CHASE AS THEY WALKED BACK TO the Fairmont. “We get pizza!” Not only had the Sharks won, but they’d scored four times, so the ticket stubs were each worth a free mini pizza.

  “You want pizza after the nachos and the hot dogs and ice cream—”

  She put a hand over his mouth. “Not tonight. I’m totally stuffed. Another 78

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  time.” Then she realized she’d presumed there’d be another date. A real date. Like this one.

  Marianna dropped her hand and made her boldest move yet. “I think I won’t see anyone else from Courtesans while I’m seeing you. Is that okay? I haven’t yet, anyway, but I’m thinking things are less complicated if I don’t.” She held her breath, waiting, frightened. What if he said it didn’t matter one way or the other to him?

  His eyes roved her face, touched her lips, then he finally met her gaze. And smiled. “That would be fine with me. Next time we’ll do pizza and miniature golf.”

  Her heart beat so hard she couldn’t hear over it. Or maybe that was because her ears were still ringing from the arena noise. Her throat hurt, too. She shouldn’t have screamed so much. Or so loudly. Or so long. But God, she’d had fun. Hockey. The date. Him. Most especially Chase. Now this. He wanted to b
e exclusive with her.

  As they left the stadium crowd behind, she slipped her arm through his and hugged close, trying not to show he’d just totally rocked her world.

  “Cold?” he asked, looking down at her, the streetlights gleaming in his hair. She shook her head. Being with him made her warm all over. “Thank you for taking me.”

  “I haven’t been in ages. I needed someone to go with.”

  She sensed he was downplaying what a spectacular date he’d given her. It was better than the others for the simple fact that it was what normal people did. Not what a courtesan and her client would do.

  “Why don’t you take your daughter?”

  “She doesn’t like hockey. I used to take my wife.”

  The words fell into a sudden vacuum. His wife. His dead wife. Cars began to fill the street, queuing up to get on the freeway. A deep bass beat out of the open windows of a truck. The pavement swelled with noise. Did he want her to ignore it? Did he want to talk about it?

  “You must miss her very much,” she offered, wondering if she should stop clinging to his arm. Yet the moment before had been so good. She glanced at him as he stared straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek as if he were considering his next words. Marianna took a deep breath and made the assumption that he wanted to 79

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  open up. “How did she die?” Cancer maybe. Or an accident. Which would be worse to endure, a long illness or a sudden loss?

  “She killed herself.”

  His flat statement slammed into her chest, literally thrusting the breath from her lungs as if he’d punched her.

  Chase didn’t stop walking. Cesar Chavez Park lay ahead of them. He waited for her to ask him why he hadn’t seen something was wrong, why he hadn’t helped Rosie, hadn’t stopped her before it was too late. All the questions he’d punished himself with for all these months. But he needed to tell her. He needed her to know who he was, the crimes he’d committed. Especially after she said she didn’t want to date anyone but him. She blown him away with that one, but he couldn’t have it without telling her the truth about Rosie.

  “I’m so sorry.” She hugged tight to his arm. “That must have been terrible for you and your daughter.”

  The night air chilled his bones, but her voice, her body pressed to his as they walked, these things warmed him. “Krista is still working through it.”

  Sliding her hand down his arm, she laced her fingers with his. “At least she still has you.”

  “Yeah, right, she still has me.” He heard the despair seep into his voice.

  “That’s why you don’t wear a wedding ring, isn’t it?” she said, her tone rising slightly. “You didn’t think you deserved to wear it anymore.”

  “Yes.” He’d removed it because he’d broken his vows. He hadn’t taken care of Rosie. It did something to his insides that Marianna understood. It was almost like a little bit of forgiveness.

  She didn’t say a word, just squeezed his hand. They rounded the corner and the lights of the Fairmont blazed before them. It was almost time for her to go. He’d wanted this to be a date. He hadn’t intended sex. But then he hadn’t thought he’d tell her about Rosie either. Being with Marianna changed things for him.

  He stopped, pulling on her hand to get her to stop, too. “I just thought I should tell you about my wife before I asked you to spend the night with me at the Fairmont.”

  Despite saying she wouldn’t date anyone else, she was still a courtesan, he was still her client—of course she’d spend the night. But he hoped she understood this was different for him. He couldn’t say it, couldn’t explain it. He 80

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  just wanted her to get it.

  He was used to her in high heels, but in tennis shoes, she seemed so much more petite. After an evening of her clinging to him every time there was a score or a foul or an excuse, her perfume was all over him. She wore the jewelry he’d given her, his ring on her right hand. It wasn’t payment for sexual favors; it was a gift. She wasn’t a fantasy. She was real.

  She touched his cheek, smiled. “I’d love to spend the night with you.”

  For tonight, she was his.

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  12

  MARIANNA WISHED SHE’D WORN SOMETHING SEXIER THAN A sweatshirt, T-shirt, jeans, and tennies for their first time. All right, it wasn’t their first time doing it, but the first time naked, in a bed, in private, where no one could interrupt. The first time after he’d told her about his wife. His confession changed things. She wasn’t sure how yet, but in the telling, he’d given her his trust. This was no longer casual sex-for-hire. This was real. Chase unlocked the hotel room door, then stepped aside to let her in. God, how he’d suffered. She needed to make this good for him. Special. The room was cushy and elegant, a thick cream comforter on the big bed, expensive wood furniture, luxurious light blue carpeting her shoes seemed to sink into.

  There was only one problem. “Brrr.” Marianna shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Housekeeping had left the air-conditioning on. Chase quickly turned on the heat. “I can warm you up in the meantime.”

  Marianna literally flung herself at him. “God, I’ve been dying to get naked with you.” She’d never been so forward or so naughty, but she knew if she didn’t do something quick, she’d get nervous.

  Chase laughed, lifted her, and swung her around to the center of the room, right by the bed. “Get naked for me, then.”

  “Like a striptease?”

  “Or tearing off your clothes. I don’t care how.” He toed off his running shoes as he spoke.

  Her heart beating a mile a minute, Marianna grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt, dragged it over her head, and tossed it aside. Her hair floated back down around her shoulders, and she hoped to God it looked sexy instead of messy.

  “Your nipples are hard,” Chase said, his gaze brilliantly green and focused.

  “It’s cold in here.”

  He stepped closer. Her blood heated. “Are you sure that’s the only reason?”

  he asked.

  The T-shirt was white, tight, and thin as tissue paper. The lace of her bra made patterns beneath the material. His sapphire-and-diamond necklace rested 82

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  above the scooped neck. He was close enough for her to scent his sensual male aroma, as he toyed with one breast, then the other. Just when she thought he’d step away and order her to finish stripping, he pinched her nipple hard. Orgasm rushed to her clitoris; she hissed in a breath, and manacled his wrist, holding off the moment. Not yet. She wanted to build toward it. With him.

  “Do it again,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the shouting. He trailed a hand up her side, flicked the peak of one breast, then, locking his eyes to hers, he rolled both nipples between thumb and forefinger. And pinched. Hard and long. A pleasure-pain raced through her, so strong she felt her knees go weak, and she clung to his wrists, her head falling back. Finally, he soothed her with his palms cupped to her breasts. She searched his eyes. “How did you know I liked that?”

  “You told me the first day.”

  Marianna couldn’t remember. It seemed so long ago, as if they’d come so far. She’d had little emotion about him that day, at least in the beginning. She was light-years beyond that now. And he’d remembered.

  “You like your nipples pinched, too.” The memory came back to her in a flood. Everything about that day swamped her, how he’d tasted, how he’d made her play with herself for him, then helped her. She reached out. He grabbed her hand. “Do mine later. When I’m inside you.” Reaching deep in his back pocket, he pulled out a wad of condoms and tossed them on the bed like a challenge. Or a promise. “Pinch me right before I come.”

  “I will.” It felt oddly as if they were making vows. “But first I’m getting naked.” Then she pulled up her shirt with a sinuous roll. He backed off to watch. If it was still cold in the room,
she didn’t notice. Chase’s gaze warmed her. She unbuckled her belt, popped the top button, slid down the zipper, then wriggled her jeans over her hips. Bending over, legs straight, she shoved everything off along with the shoes. Then she posed for him, hands on her hips at the high-cut waist of her thong. Thank God she’d at least worn sexy lingerie, because the way his eyes traced her curves melted her bones. She crooked her finger. “Your turn.”

  He was faster than her, and he stripped down to nothing. His beauty awed her, from his hair-dusted pecs to . . . “Wow. You’re so big.”

  He laughed. “You have seen me before.”

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  And taken him in her mouth, too. “It’s a new perspective, getting the whole show.” She circled her finger. “Turn around.”

  His ass was perfect as he gave her a one-eighty view. “That’s a very squeezable tush.”

  He glanced over his shoulder, laughter lighting his eyes. “You’re ogling me like I’m a sex object.”

  “This is not ogling, this is total appreciation.” Before Chase, she’d never really thought about making sex fun, yet he brought the giddy banter out in her. He grabbed her, tossed her onto the bed, amid all the pillows, then came down on top of her. “Show me how much you appreciate me instead of just looking.”