Falling For His Escort [Book #3]

Chapter 7

I was washing my hands at the sink when I heard the door open. I didn't turn because I assumed it had been another female needing to use the bathroom.

It wasn't until I looked up to check myself in the mirror that I realized Mason was standing right behind me. I rolled my eyes, planning to simply walk out and continue avoiding him. 

But he had other plans.

"You can't avoid me forever, no name. Or should I say, Dove?" Mason's deep voice has chills running down my spine, his warm breath tickling the hairs on the nape of my neck.

I've been avoiding him since the reception began, hiding within the crowd of people mingling with one another.

For about an hour I had been successful in keeping my distance. But then I ended up having to go to the bathroom after drinking two glasses of champagne to calm my nerves.

He pressed himself up against me, his veiny, tatted hands gripping the sink counter and preventing me from making my escape. And now I have no choice but to address the fact that I'm the escort he'd hired.

I kept a calm composure despite my breath being stolen from me the moment he closed the distance between us. I could smell his earthly cologne, the intoxicating scent of a man prompting me to inhale and welcome his spellbinding aroma.

"Nothing to say? What a surprise." I watched the way he reached up to gently thread his fingers through my hair, his lips twitching up into a smile. 

His touch lit me aflame. I bit down on my lower lip, trying not to lean into his touch. I didn't want him to know I was enjoying the way he played with my hair. I also didn't want him to know how much I liked having him so close to me.

He lowered his head and nipped at my exposed shoulder. "Do you believe in fate, Dove?"

"I don't."

His other hand skated over my stomach, branding me with his burning touch before gripping my hip. "This is our third time running into each other and yet, you're still in denial."

"Denial about what?" I managed to say, my rapid pulsing heart beating on the outside of my chest.

"Ever since I met you, you've been ingrained in my mind like a bad memory. Tell me I'm not alone, Dove," he spoke lowly, slowly skating the tips of his fingers up and down the length of my arm. "Tell me you feel it too."

"Sorry but you're on your own, playboy. You haven't crossed my mind even once."

He smirked. "Liar."

I rolled my eyes. "You're going to have to find yourself another escort. I'm leaving." I pressed my open palm to his chest, feeling the muscles that lie beneath his tux. I quickly pulled my hand away, shoving past him.

"I'll pay you triple."

I paused in front of the door, my fingers coiled around the handle.

Triple?

Is he fucking crazy? Does he even know how much that is? 

I get paid per hour, a percentage of the money made going back to the agency. The wedding ceremony was only an hour with the reception expected to be about five hours long. 

I would make almost five thousand dollars. Which is the amount some escorts who perform sexual services in the agency average. Yes, although illegal, some of the members working under the agency do offer sexual services. 

I am not one of them.

I frowned, dropping my hand at my side and turning around slowly. I'd be a fool to pass up making that much money even if the playboy arouses my very soul.