The Gentleman Mentor(43)

“Let’s get you warmed up,” I whisper near her ear.

She nods and lets me take her hand to help her into the waiting limo, which is white as I requested. I may not be a noble knight on a white horse, but she deserves one, and this is the best I can do.

“Wow. A limo? What’s on the agenda tonight?” Her eyes sparkle as she takes it all in, sliding across the leather seat with a happy smile. And suddenly all the trouble I’ve gone through planning tonight is immediately worth it.

“You’ll see,” I say.

She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to push her further than I ever have before. My cock twitches at the thought. I will prove to us both that this isn’t some fucking fairy tale. I have needs she can’t possibly satisfy, and she deserves a tenderness that I can’t possibly provide.

Everything will be settled after tonight. And I will send her off, ready to use all her techniques to win over the one she wants, the man who is a safe choice for her.

Plucking the waiting bottle of champagne from its bucket of ice, I free the cork. Brielle smiles at the popping sound. I pour us each a glass in the tall flutes, and we clink glasses.

“Cheers. To Kirby,” I say coolly.

Her face falls, her eyebrows pinching together. “I thought you said no names.”

“Seems kind of pointless when I already know it, doesn’t it, Brielle?”

She chews on her lower lip and shrugs. “I guess so.”

“To Kirby,” I repeat, bringing my glass to hers again. “One lucky son of a bitch.”

This gets a smile from her, and we both sip our champagne.

“So your time with him went well today?” I ask, trying to temper my curiosity.

Her gaze wanders out the window, and she takes another drink before answering. “Of course.”

As we sip our champagne in silence, I wish I could pick up on what she’s thinking. I need to hold it together. I can sense myself slipping, and Brielle is watching me with a curious stare.

Fucking hell.

When did my life get so goddamned complicated? This whole venture was supposed to be about easy fun, exploring women’s sexual fantasies, and a release for my dominant side. Instead it’s become a game I don’t think I can win. One that’s going to leave me old and alone with nothing to show for my efforts, just like Nana fears.

I tip back my head, downing the rest of my champagne, and set down my glass. It’s game time.

• • •



When we arrive at the hotel suite I’ve booked for the night, Brielle walks from room to room, checking out the place. It’s opulent, almost too much for our uses tonight. I plan on fucking her as many times and in as many places as possible, and still, I know we won’t even make it into half the rooms.

When she returns to the living room, where I’m waiting for her beside a cart of drinks, I smile warmly at her. “Take off your coat. Stay a while.”

Her answering smile lights up her face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, sir?”

“Fuck yes, I would.”

She slowly releases the belt, letting me catch a glimpse of the dip in her smooth belly, the white lace at the top of her panties.

My erection presses awkwardly against the front of my slacks. But fuck it, she knows what she does to me by now. No need to fake a sense of control I don’t possess.

I wait for her to drop the coat from her shoulders, but she stops, her eyes lifting to mine. “Are we going out? Or what’s the plan?”

I force a breath into my lungs, trying to get myself to calm the fuck down. We have all night. No need to pounce on her like the tasty treat she is within two minutes of entering the hotel suite. “We’re staying here tonight.”

“All night?” she asks, her nose scrunching up in a way that looks damn cute on her.

We both know that’s a huge fucking step. We’ve never spent the night together. “Yes. Is that okay, Brielle?”

Her gaze slips away from mine, noting the cart of drinks with various bottles and mixers along with a bucket of ice, over to the dining table where fussy finger foods and hors d’oeuvres and desserts are artfully arranged, and then back to the hallway that leads to the master bedroom. Her smile falters, the corners of her mouth twitching.

This is too real, too intimate, and she knows it. Her questioning blue eyes see everything. All my motivations are stripped bare; I don’t need to say a word. She was expecting something crazy, but all she’s getting is me. I want to pretend she’s mine for one last night before I have to release her.

I cross the room and stand directly in front of her, pushing my hand inside her coat to place it firmly on her waist and drag her close.