by Mel Teshco
Chapter Seven
‡
The helicopter pilot set the machine down in a big paddock, twenty or so yards away from a house with a wraparound veranda encased in a grape vine.
Tiffany curled her fists together under her chin, and yelled above the noise of the spinning rotors, “Where are we?”
Amos’ eyes sparkled. “Welcome to inland Victoria, and my holiday home. A place I retreat to whenever I crave fresh air and the great outdoors.” His mouth curled wryly. “And of course safety away from rabid fans.”
Someone had left the house lights on, probably a caretaker, and she could see inside the windows through the sheer curtains. A small fire glowed in the fireplace, and a bowl of fruit sat on round wooden table with a lacy white tablecloth. Pots and pans hung on hooks above a gleaming kitchen bench. It looked homely and inviting.
“It’s lovely.”
They climbed out of the helicopter, ducking low and running clear from the whirling blades. Amos gave a thumbs-up to the pilot, and the machine roared as it pulled back up into the air.
She laughed, exhilarated by the flight and the wind that now whipped at her hair and pushed dust into their faces. Even so, the air filling her lungs was cleaner, fresher than the city smog.
Amos chuckled beside her, the chopper noise already fading as he said, “You make everything seem so fresh and new again.”
“I doubt I’d ever get jaded flying in that thing.”
The millions of city lights and then the random twinkling lights of farmhouses spread out intermittently across the land had been stark contrast. As had the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, and tall buildings that had given way to the shadowy outlines of mountains and the glint of rivers and dams under the moonlight.
He curled an arm around her waist and she sighed against his shoulder as they traversed the yard, where crickets chirped and a bat shrieked somewhere in the distance. She sucked in a breath of the clean-as-clean air, thrilled to be here; a part of Amos’ life just for a little while longer.
The outside chill was tempered immediately by the fire inside, and Tiffany stepped across the polished timber floor toward the small flames behind the bricked off grate. She stretched her hands to the heat. “I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a real fireplace.”
Amos stood beside her. “It’s nice to get away from the city and experience something so natural, isn’t it?”
She turned to him, her voice husky. “If this is normal then I never want to go back to crazy again.”
His stare held hers. “You’d give up your lifestyle for this?”
In a heartbeat.
She couldn’t tell Amos the truth. Couldn’t let him know why she worked as an escort. If she didn’t do what she did, then her father wouldn’t have the modified house and round the clock care she needed. She also wouldn’t be able to see him most days.
She kept her personal life strictly private for good reason. It was a way of keeping hold of who she really was and of protecting her heart. She’d opened herself up to Toby too soon and look where that had left her. Even though being with Amos made her realize how right things could be between two people, she wasn’t trusting so easily again.
“I’m guessing that’s a no, then?”
She blinked, gathering back her scattered thoughts.
Her voice came out brittle with her lie. “Do you really think I could give up the city lifestyle, the parties and dinners, the shopping and pampering, for this?”
He didn’t frown, but disappointment was stamped all over his face. “To be honest, yeah, I did.”
Her belly gave a peculiar little twist. He understood her so well. Playing the escort-client game was going to be harder with him because he dug deeper than her other clients. He actually wanted to know the real her, not the sexy siren men paid to keep them satisfied.
“It’s late,” he finally said into a silence broken by the faint crackle of burning wood. “Let’s shower and get some sleep.”
She nodded, and followed him down the hallway. “You know I didn’t bring a change of clothes.”
His laugh melted her insides even before he said, “You won’t need clothes for what I have in mind.”
In the bathroom, he turned the taps on and adjusted the pressure. She loved watching the play of his back muscles through his shirt, admired his naturally streaked brown-blond hair that sat unfashionably long past his collar. Warmth radiated off his skin, and she sucked in his musky, aroused scent like it was her very last breath.
She shuddered with need. It was all she could do not to rip his clothes off him even before he twisted back to face her.
Steam filled the air, saturating them with moisture as he cupped her face, his lips gentle on hers as he kissed her, savored her. Her breasts were heavy and her nipples sharp points behind her bustier when he finally pulled away.
His eyes glowed, his cock bulging in his pants. Every angle and plane in his face was stamped with need. Yet it was almost methodical the way they pulled off their footwear before they helped each other out of their clothes and tossed them into the hamper next to the shower stall.
There was nothing disciplined about the desire that built like a furnace between them. Nothing even remotely controlled about their kiss when they came together in the shower, their mouths merging as one and their hands all over one another.
She gasped into his mouth when he slid a finger into her pussy, his thumb plucking her clit like he was playing her in the same way he played his guitar. She was already in tune for him, and beyond willing and ready for his mastery. But he continued strumming her fleshy little knot of nerves, continued to push a finger, then two, in and out of her.
She was careening toward orgasm faster than she could gain her breath, teetering on the edge even before his mouth left hers and he dropped onto his knees. Her breath hissed when he parted the folds of her labia. He looked up at her under the billowing steam and the water coursing over them, before he leaned forward, his mouth latching onto her inner flesh with unbearable skill.
His tongue flicked even as he suckled, and he pressed an outspread hand on the flat plane of her belly to help hold her in place as her legs shook and her body turned into liquid.
His mouth on her pussy was pleasurable enough, but seeing his head between her thighs and his stare watching her every reaction pushed the barometer way past the boiling point.
He sucked harder and she didn’t even try and fight against the powerful rush of sensation hurtling through her body. The climax took away her will to resist this man even a second longer. She put a hand on her mouth to stifle the scream of rapture, stifle his name that she called out as pleasure ricocheted through her in a tsunami before leaving her weak and defenseless.
He straightened then, before he picked her up and spun her around against the wall. He kissed her again, pushing his tongue into her mouth and sharing her musky scent, before his cock, which throbbed against her belly, was suddenly at her core.
She stiffened a nanosecond before he pushed the length of his shaft deep inside her. She groaned. It was too late to worry about unprotected sex, too late to worry about anything but wrapping her legs around his hips and losing herself in his powerful strokes that moved faster and faster, until she was tipped right over the edge again and he followed seconds after.
The steam billowed around them when she finally found the strength to uncurl her legs from his hips and step onto the tiles on weak spaghetti-legs. It wasn’t the steam that put moisture in her eyes when she looked up at him.
His eyes flashed, his jaw tightening. “We didn’t use protection, I know.” He lifted a hand and drew the back of his knuckles along her jaw. “I’m to blame for getting so carried away.”
She sighed. “I’m at fault too.” After all, her it was also her job to ensure her client always wore a condom.
He shook his head. “It was mine, one hundred percent. But just so you know,” he rasped, “I’m clean.”
“As am I.”
/>
His eyebrows furrowed. “You’re on the pill though, yeah?”
“Of course.”
His thumb brushed her lip. “You know, you’d make beautiful babies.”
Her throat thickened, and her voice came out hoarse. “As would you.”
She ignored a frisson of pain at the thought of him making beautiful babies with his future wife. The envy wasn’t helped knowing she’d never get to experience motherhood. Not in her line of work. Besides, children were expensive, she couldn’t afford to raise a family and look after her father’s huge medical finances as well.
Amos flipped off the taps and they stepped outside the shower stall. Using a soft, fluffy towel that smelled of lavender, she stood still as he blotted all the moisture from her skin. Warmth rushed through her veins as he took extra care drying her hardening breasts and sensitized nipples, before he bent to pay attention drying the lips of her pussy.
Her knees began to quake, heat centering at her core, when she drew the towel out of his hands and dried him in return. She took great pleasure in running the towel over his wide shoulders and along his pecs, before rubbing it down the trail of hair leading from his navel to his cock.
It was an odd kind of thrill, considering how regularly she witnessed a man’s desire, to see Amos’ cock harden all over again. Even odder was her strong urge to take him once more in her mouth.
His big hand wrapped around her upper arm and tugged her fully upright. His eyes glowed. “You’re killing me,” he growled.
When he claimed her lips with his own in a slow, tender kiss that revealed iron willpower, her yearning intensified. But not for sex, she wanted all of Amos. His heart, his soul… everything.
He pulled back and she followed him into the master bedroom, where they both climbed naked into the big bed with its midnight coverlet. He turned her to him and wrapped her in his arms, but their skin-on-skin contact didn’t progress into sex. He was evidently content to simply hold her. And damned if that didn’t make her heart completely melt.
*
She woke the next morning, blinking against the natural light flooding into the bedroom and realizing she was still Tiffany, not Natalie. She’d do well to remember that and not make her time with Amos personal.
She eased herself out of his arms and turned to watch him slumber. This waking up beside him and then watching him sleep was getting into a bit of a habit. One she didn’t mind repeating.
Her lips curved into a wondrous smile as lightness spread through her chest. The man might be a livewire when he performed on stage and in the bedroom, but he knew how to sleep when it was needed too.
She stretched her arms above her head, aware her tiredness was more fulfilling than exhausting. Long hours of sex with Amos hadn’t left her wrung out like dishrag. It’d left her warmly satisfied and wanting more.
But then she couldn’t remember a deeper or more relaxed sleep in a very long time. Being in Amos’ arms made her feel safe and secure. She squeezed her eyes closed. Made her feel things she’d been trying to avoid. The last thing she needed was to get burned by another client.
Padding away from the bed, she stepped into the bedroom’s walk-in-closet and found a white unisex robe. Shrugging it on, she walked through the house and outside to its back veranda.
The house really did sit in the middle of nowhere, with distant mountains and a far-off fence line framing an otherwise flat landscape of green grass. She breathed in the fresh air, lifting her face to the warmth of the sun and admiring the clear azure sky.
She of all people understood Amos’ need for space and the peace and quiet that came with it. Sleeping with regular clients didn’t make her feel like they were any less of a stranger. It was still casual sex, and they were still nothing more than men who’d leave her in bed without looking back. It was enough to wish for a whole different life, a simple life, like being here.
A kookaburra laughed, drawing her attention to the one lone tree that shaded a shed off to the side of the house. Before her father’s accident she’d lived with him in a semi-rural area, enjoying nature but with shopping centers, restaurants, and cinemas only a handful of minutes down the road.
Being here reminded her how much she loved the great outdoors, the crisp, clean air and the uncluttered space spread out around her for miles.
She smelled the tantalizing aroma of coffee minutes before Amos stepped outside in old jeans and a white t-shirt. Her mouth dried. He looked rugged and too damn masculine for her peace of mind, even with a steaming mug of coffee in each hand.
“I come bearing gifts.”
She smiled at his dry humor, before she accepted the mug and took a sip. “Thank you.” She tried not to notice the way the white shirt hugged his powerful torso and set off his inked arms. “When I got up you were sound asleep.”
He shrugged. “What can I say? My body seems to know when you’re not near me.”
She grinned. “That’s because your body loves sex.”
His eyes glinted with a far more serious look. “Or maybe it’s simply that I love being with you.”
Chapter Eight
‡
Tiffany refused to read more into Amos’ words than what he’d meant. Loved being with her didn’t equate to being in love with her. And yet she swore the intensity in his eyes told her otherwise.
Before she could drum up something halfway intelligent, he took a sip of his coffee and looked out over the endless green grass, a hand casually anchored on his hip. “I love being here with you even more.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. Was it possible his feelings for her were real? Dare she even hope they were? She blew out a slow breath. No, it was better to keep things strictly professional and uncomplicated. As much as every cell in her body hummed with a need to lean on Amos, she refused to give in to that foolish desire.
What man in his right mind would even consider taking on the financial burden she faced day in, day out? Amos might be wealthy, but he wasn’t stupid. No man would want to commit to that sort of a responsibility.
But she considered herself lucky to afford her lifestyle and that of her father’s. When the insurance for her dad’s accident had fallen through, she’d had to quit university and find employment fast. The VIP Escort Agency had been the only high-paying profession available.
Becoming an escort had been a godsend, even if her growing anxiety levels told her otherwise.
She glanced his way and said huskily, “Thank you. I love being here with you too. It’s nice to get away from the traffic, the chaos, and the noise.”
He nodded. “We’re in the fertile valley of the Lochte Mountains, we couldn’t be further away from the concrete jungle if we tried.” He waved a hand toward the highest point of the distant mountains, his voice becoming quiet. “My father and I used to hike those mountains. It’s another reason I bought this property, and why I built a cabin up there where we camped.”
She held onto that tidbit of information, yearning to know so much more about him.
He turned to her. “I’d like to take you up there after breakfast.”
She nodded. “I’d like that too.”
He smiled. “Good, it’s settled then. Finish your coffee and I’ll make some breakfast. How does bacon and eggs sound?”
Her belly chose that moment to grumble. She laughed. “Apparently, it sounds perfect.”
His stare lingered on her face, as though he wasn’t in any hurry to leave her. Warmth radiated through her. How many men had ever looked at her like that, as though she was the only woman in the world for them, and not just in the bedroom?
No one, that she was aware. Men loved to look at her, to fuck her, nothing more.
Perhaps because that’s all you’re offering?
Her smile died, but she refused to allow self-doubts to spoil the moment. Out here, away from other people, it seemed as if they really did have all the time in the world and she, for one, wasn’t in any hurry to get back to reality.
; Except you’ll have another client tonight.
Tension sucked away the last of her joy and settled into stiff lines across her shoulders. Since being with Amos, she was starting to dread being with another man. He made all her other clients pale in comparison. She only hoped he’d somehow managed to book her for tonight as well and that she wouldn’t be sleeping with anyone but him.
“Is something wrong?” Amos asked, his eyes assessing.
She shook her head. “No. I’m good, thanks.”
“Something wiped that beautiful smile right off your face.”
She bit into her bottom lip. “I was thinking about where I’d be tonight.”
His face gentled even as something possessive flashed in his stare. “You’ll be here again with me, in my arms.”
Her eyes widened, her breath for a moment catching in her throat. “Maisey allowed you another night with me?”
He shrugged. “Like I said, money talks.” He spun on his heel. “You’re welcome to join me in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
She stared after him as his long-legged stride took him all too quickly from the veranda and out of sight. She glanced away. She was all too aware she could feast her eyes on him all day long.
Her breath huffed out. She had to remember she was living in a fantasy world right now. Not in the real world where clients awaited her in expensive hotel rooms, and where her father’s medical bills piled high until she paid out another big installment.
She turned back to the endless landscape. For the moment, she’d enjoy being here with Amos. For the moment, she’d forget all about the hardships of life and give into the urge to bury her head in the sand. Besides, if her father needed her she was only a phone call away, he’d survive without her for a few days.
She drank the rest of her coffee, squared her shoulders, and followed Amos back inside. She wouldn’t waste a minute more questioning her every decision.
