The Right Man

by Mankin, Michelle

  Rush’s gaze flitted over my face, and the groove in his brow deepened.

  “You seem to be in a hurry. Why don’t we take things a little slower and move to the living area.” He removed his hands, making me lament the loss of his touch as he gestured to the living area. “Let’s sit and talk for a minute. Get to know each other a little better before we proceed.”

  “Why?” A cold wave of unease washed away the warmth. No longer transfixed, I was suspicious. I anticipated the worst, since unfortunately I’d nearly experienced it before by being caught unaware.

  I quickly shifted my weight to the balls of my feet. Ready to flee, I noted the nearest exit and its proximity to him.

  “Why the hell not?” He frowned. “You gotta run back to your street corner for some reason you haven’t shared?”

  His tone no longer kind, he watched me with a hard expression and narrowed eyes. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one with suspicions.

  “Don’t tell me you have some other loser lined up tonight to fork over eight hundred bucks to fuck you.”

  “No.” I lifted my chin. “Just you.”

  The inside of my chest burned. He thought he was paying too much for me. It hurt to be told flat out what you believed deep down to be true.

  “You’re the only asshole I have . . . had . . . on my hook tonight.”

  My eyes stung as tears filled them. He’d ripped open a raw wound. After being betrayed by someone I trusted, then being forced into prostitution to survive, I feared the damage to my self-esteem would never heal properly.

  Nearly vibrating with emotion, I spat out, “Does it make you feel like a big man to cut me down because I didn’t immediately do what you wanted?”

  Stupid, Jewel. I clenched my fingers into fists at my sides. You just lost eight hundred bucks because you’re too proud and couldn’t control your tongue.

  “What I meant to say was—”

  “Don’t filter yourself on my account,” he said, cutting me off with a sharp gesture. “Got enough people kissing my ass.” His gaze iced over with permafrost as it slid over me. “I have a list of things I want to do with you tonight, but you kissing my rear ain’t one of ’em.”

  “All right.” I bobbed my head, taking the reprieve he offered.

  “Don’t look so nervous. It doesn’t become you, kickass chick that you are, shooting me down nearly from the first moment I saw you.” He shook his head, studying me. “Speak your mind if you want to. You did it before, yeah? It’s one of the many things that intrigued me about you.”

  “Oh.” My mouth rounded in surprise at the revelation I wasn’t sure he’d intended to let slip. “Okay, I guess.”

  “You’re right. I’m used to having my way. I acted like an asshole. It’s a habit, a bad one I fall into. But with you . . .”

  He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. His defined pec and corded bicep rippled from his movements, and his abs tightened. It was distracting.

  “Listen.” His gaze no longer cold, but not as warm as before, he eyed me carefully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I thought you were being dismissive, and I snapped at you. Okay?”

  The sincerity in his expression undid me. He was handsome, we’d already established that, and I was attracted to him. But even more appealing than his looks was his uncertainty about me.

  Was it possible that what I thought mattered to him? Could he actually be afraid I might refuse him?

  “Apology accepted.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded once and gestured again to the seating area. “Now, will you come and sit with me?”

  “Sure.” I agreed readily, following him while telling myself not to be fooled.

  Men could seem one way and totally be another. I had been down that path before. I was in my current situation because I’d trusted too easily and thought too highly of myself when I should have been wary.

  Swallowing the bitterness from that hard lesson, I removed his jacket. Carefully, I folded it in half and laid it on the easy chair before moving to join him on the midnight-blue couch. With self-preservation instead of a jacket to cape my shoulders, I sat and perched stiffly on the edge of the cushion next to him.

  “This is much better,” he said.

  I wasn’t so sure, but at least I had my professional demeanor back in place.

  “I’m going to borrow this.” He took my hand without waiting for permission and stroked my fingers with his thumb. The calloused pad was rough against my soft skin, but not unpleasant. Far from unpleasant.

  “I’d prefer we talk without any contact for a moment.” I withdrew my hand, wondering what repetitive motion an actor might do to develop calluses.

  Stop it, Jewel. Focus.

  I couldn’t allow myself to be distracted by mysteries regarding him, any more than I could allow myself to be seduced by his kindness or caresses. It was good for us to have a discussion. Cam and I had work rules that were important to maintain detachment. Only, I was having a hard time remembering them tonight.

  “I’m not trying to piss you off, Harley.” He frowned. “I just wanted to clarify some things. And maybe put you more at ease with me. I think it’ll be better for both of us if you’re not afraid of me.”

  “I’m not afraid.” My spine straightened with the denial.

  “Okay, if you say so.” His expression said he thought my denial was bullshit, and he was mostly right. “I’m not exactly sure what your procedure is. I’ve never . . . you know . . . picked up a hooker before.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Strip clubs. Lap dances. Shit like that. But no one like you. Ever.” His hair slid forward over his eyes, shielding them.

  I couldn’t get a definite read on him, but there was an edge of seriousness to his tone that made his words seem like a compliment. “You want to know if there’s a certain protocol to follow?”

  He nodded. “Rules. Dos and don’ts. Something like that.”

  “Not really.” I shook my head. “You give me cash. I do what you want. I leave.”

  Don’t get all misty-eyed again, I warned myself. This isn’t him being considerate. This is business. Do what you need to do. Stay in control.

  “You had the cash.” His eyes narrowed to assessing slivers. “It was inside my jacket.”

  “Oh, right.” I stood and went to get it.

  “Don’t trust me, huh?” he said, and our gazes met as I riffled through his jacket. “Go ahead and count it then.”

  “I have to,” I said once I had the envelope open.

  “I get it.”

  “No, I don’t think you really do,” I said. “You drive a Porsche. You stay in fancy hotels. You call people, and in ten minutes, ta-da! Cash appears. A large sum of it.”

  I hastily counted the bills. They were all there, sixteen $50 bills. I quickly put them in my bag, set it aside, and rejoined him on the couch.

  “Did you just say ta-da?” His tone had that funny ring to it again, and he smiled.

  With him so close, I could feel the warmth of his amusement. “It seemed the best word to aptly describe the way you snap out commands, and everyone gets in a dither to do what you want.”

  His grin widened. “Never heard a chick talk like you.”

  How could my complaints about his arrogance amuse him?

  “Where did you say you were from again?” he asked.

  “I didn’t.”

  “Give me a hint.” His tone turned coaxing. “The state, at least.”

  “Tennessee.”

  “Never been there.”

  I scoffed. “You must not get out of LA much.”

  “Oh, I get around, all right.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you do.” The signs that he was a major player were obvious.

  “You have your cash now.” He didn’t seem to like my confirmation of the obvious. “So, the formalities are out of the way.” His gaze broadcasting his intent, he placed his palm on the center of my chest, directly on my bare skin. “Is it
time for me to get what I want, Harley?”

  His voice lowered, he held me captive with his eyes. My heart thudded beneath his touch.

  Slowly, he spread his fingers. “Without restrictions?”

  “Yes.” I nodded, and the motion moved his hand. The infinitesimal glide made my flesh tingle. My nipples tightened beneath the silk of my bra.

  “I appreciate your permission,” he said softly, and I preened with pleasure beneath his heated regard. “I like very much that there’s nothing I can imagine that you won’t do.”

  My skin burned where he branded me with his fingers. He slowly lifted his gaze and our eyes met. Gold and silver clashed. His were dark gray like thunderclouds, and my heart raced beneath his touch like lightning.

  I felt claimed, though he had given me cash. Claimed, though economics and reason clamored for my attention.

  This was dangerous. He was dangerous.

  But right now, in this moment, I didn’t care. There was something about Rush McMahon. The care, the concern, the teasing . . . the way he treated me evoked hope. Risky, perilous, deceitful hope.

  Stepping into that compelling light, I followed his lead. I angled my head one way as he tilted his in the other. In concert, our faces aligned. His eyes fluttered closed but mine remained open, and I held my breath as I watched his sexy mouth come closer to mine. Anticipation hummed inside me as the warmth of his breath feathered over my lips.

  And just like that, even though I knew better, I gave in. I wanted to merge our mouths, fuse our lips, and mingle the very essence of our breaths. I wanted the fantasy.

  The melody to a long-lost dream filled my mind, and I allowed myself to be swept away. Desire and desirability filled me, as did hope and faith. More than anything, I wanted to believe I deserved to experience those things again.

  I knew, even as I reached for them, that they weren’t for me anymore.

  But that didn’t stop me from longing to dance.

  Chapter 9

  * * *

  Rush

  Forget going slow.

  I was fucking her.

  Right here. Right now.

  On this couch.

  But I was tasting those painted lips of hers first. I had to. Not kissing her was not an option. I had to know how she tasted. Had to see if my tongue in her mouth would make her moan. If her body would melt. If her strong spirit would yield to mine.

  Not because I’d paid her, and not because she knew who I was, but simply because I was a guy and she was a girl and there was the allure of the unknown to explore between us.

  “Rush . . .” She sighed.

  I opened my eyes to see her expression reflecting the same sense of anticipation as mine. Excellent. She wanted what I wanted. No other consideration to interfere. It was about damn fucking time.

  I gently framed her pretty face, and she pressed deeper into my hands, my name on her lips. Her with me. Us on the same page. Fuck me. I liked it. I liked it a whole fucking lot.

  “Babe.” Searching her gaze, I swept my thumbs across the satiny-soft skin of her cheeks. “Tell me your name.”

  I had to know. It was a travesty that I didn’t know already. When her lips were nearly mine. When I was staring so deeply into her eyes. When just beneath the surface of her gaze glistened a treasure I had to have, a woman who seemed to want just me.

  “What did you say?” Her breath warmed my parted lips.

  “Never mind.” I groaned from only a hint of her taste—peaches, wholesome and sweet. Which was impossible, but somehow in perfect harmony with the golden reward that glittered within her eyes. “Tell me after I kiss you,” I said, my mouth almost on hers.

  “No.” A shudder ran through her as she pulled back and turned her cheek, making my lips miss their intended target.

  I blinked in confusion as her hands wedged between us, and when she planted them on the center of my chest, I nearly scoffed. They weren’t a deterrent. Only her word served that purpose. My eyes blazed as I registered the firm press of her fingers into my skin.

  “What the hell? Can’t what?” Disappointment harshened my tone. My gaze narrowed and my cock throbbed. Grasping her chin, I turned her head so she had to look at me. “You said there were no restrictions.”

  “There are none,” she whispered, only she wouldn’t maintain eye contact. Her lids lowered, and the blush on her cheeks deepened as if she were embarrassed, but I wasn’t buying it. “No restrictions for you. It’s just that it has to be . . . it needs to be me doing all the work, and you reaping all the reward.”

  Her lids fluttering, she lowered her voice to a sultry purr. “I’ll make it so good for you, I promise. I’ll fulfill every fantasy. You blow your load in me, on me, however you want. Just tell me your preference, and I’ll see that you get there.”

  My cock liked all of that. Liked the sweetness and softness of her along with the dirty talk. But the other part of me, the greedy part that had gotten a glimpse of the golden prize? He was a more discerning fucker.

  “I wanted to kiss you,” I said, snarling like a petulant child denied a sugary treat. “Isn’t that on the menu?”

  “Is kissing me what you want, Rush?” She brought her hands to her breasts, shaping them like I’d imagined her doing since she first appeared at my window. “I’ll kiss you if that’s what you want. Because this is about you. You paid me to pleasure you, freeing you from worrying about what anyone else wants. Whether they like what you’re doing. Whether they get off or not. It’s best when you can just sit back and enjoy.”

  I wasn’t so sure about that. For a long time now, I’d gorged on a continuous cycle of selfish enjoyment that reaped dissatisfaction.

  But she distracted me as she shifted. Straddling my thigh, she unbuttoned her cropped blouse and plucked her tits right out of her bra. They weren’t the biggest pair I’d ever seen, but they were the most perfectly formed. My eyes glazed over as she lifted the rose-tipped beauties to me.

  “Suck on them, baby,” she said softly, her voice still a purr. “If you’d like to, or I can play with them for you. I can take care of that. I can take care of all the work. I can take care of everything.” Abandoning her breasts, she leaned forward and placed her hands on my chest. “Let me help you release all that tension you mentioned earlier.”

  As I held my breath, she danced the tips of her fingers lower. Skimming her touch over the ridges of my abdomen, she ignited a fiery trail of sensation that ended when she reached the waistband of my jeans.

  “What are you doing?” My voice rumbled from deep inside my chest where my heart was already sprinting for the finish. “Why are you stopping?”

  “Getting permission.” She peered at me through sooty lashes while sweeping her fingertips along my length. “May I touch you here?”

  “Yes.” I groaned as she palmed me through the denim, my eyes already half-closed, my cock jumping eagerly in her grip.

  “Good,” she said. “Because I like touching you.”

  I glanced up, watching her face as she focused on unbuckling and unthreading my belt. She wore a look of intense concentration, her tongue emerging to moisten her red lips, and her bracelets jingling as she slowly unbuttoned my fly. I felt pre-cum on my shaft. It wasn’t going to take much effort on her behalf. I was primed to explode.

  Her mouth parting, she dove her eager fingers into the waistband of my boxer briefs.

  “Can you lift up, please?” she asked, her breaths short bursts of air between her words. “I need to get these down. I want to see all of you.”

  I lifted immediately. I wanted that too.

  “Oh my.” Her eyes widened. “You’re so big. So hard.”

  As she stroked me, her fingers skimming my velvety length, she moaned, and it all seemed so real. She looked up at me, swiping her pink tongue over her perfect teeth.

  “Do you . . . Do you want me to suck you off? Or finish you right now with my hand?” Her voice was as seductive as the hunger on her face as her eyes met mine. “Be
cause you’re wet, baby. And I can go either way you wanna go in a situation like this.”

  She rolled her hips, grinding on my leg. Even through the denim, I felt the heat of her arousal.

  “Finish it.” I groaned as she gripped me. “Now.”

  I put my hand over hers. The ring was still there, but I didn’t stop—I couldn’t stop to take it off. Instead, I helped her jack my cock as I stared at our joined hands, mine large and masculine, hers dainty. The glittery black polish on her nails sparkled like dark magic as she glided her hand up and down my shaft.

  “So good,” I told her. “You feel so good.”

  “Faster, please,” she said, since I was controlling the pace, and I eagerly complied. “Oh yes, baby.”

  Her nipples tight, her tits bouncing, she rode my thigh with abandon, matching the pace of our combined strokes on my dick.

  “Your cock is so beautiful. So hot. So big.”

  Without breaking our rhythm, I glanced up at her face again. Her cheeks were flushed, and her expression was stark with need. She meant it. She was turned on.

  Her eyes met mine. Unguarded, the allure within her gaze remained, only now the gold was molten.

  “You’re fucking phenomenal.”

  Her beautiful eyes were her tell. I wanted them on me every single time I fucked her.

  “Say my name,” I demanded.

  “Rush, I can’t . . .”

  Only she already had.

  I moved our hands faster, loving the feel of her delicate fingers sliding along my slippery length. Loved it even more when she threw back her head and moaned her release. She looked like a fucking goddess when she came, coming from doing me.

  Watching her, feeling her, I stiffened in our combined grip, and then I was coming too.

  Fuck, I wanted her name, but even not knowing didn’t stop me from erupting all over our joined hands.

  • • •

  Jewel

  “Here.” Rush grabbed a few tissues from the box on the end table and shoved them at me.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking them and plummeting from the heights of a climax to a crash landing in practical reality.