It was a battle of wills. My body against my mind. As I stepped into the dress I had bought, I admired the cut. It was sleeveless, with an open back, showcasing my toned back muscles.
I fussed over my hair even though it had been styled this afternoon. Heath had sat in the salon with me, his computer propped on his lap, as he had studied the hairdresser blow dry it into loose curls. He'd watch for a few moments, and then I could hear the soft patter of his typing before he would be observing again. Every so often our eyes would meet in the reflection of the mirror, and I could feel my cheeks heating at being caught studying him again.
When we left the salon, Heath had asked if it was okay for him to stay tonight and if so, that he needed to grab some of his gear at his house. I had said yes and invited him to the black-tie function at the Morley mansion.
I had rationalised that it would be providing him with the complete experience of shadowing me.
He had agreed.
I had clarified that he wouldn't be my date.
But it still felt as if he was - why else was I obsessing over my reflection, wondering if he'd like what he'd see?
I knew I was just a research project to him, but these jitters and nerves felt very reminiscent of a date.
Which was ridiculous.
I left my room and collected my essentials before surveying my house once more. It was weird to think that when we returned later Heath would be with me. He would be seeing my space for the first time. My very private space.
Shaking my head at myself, I left to pick up Heath.
***
I watched Heath stride toward the car and chuck his suitcase in the boot. He was so innately masculine. He didn't need a beard, or a motorcycle, it was just his general way of being. The fact that he was tall and well-built obviously contributed to it.
And his pheromones.
I swear, as soon as he sat down in my car and I got a whiff of him my lady bits went crazy. He smelt amazing. It felt like my ovaries were exploding in his presence.
"Hi," he said, his eyes brushing over me, almost shyly. Taking in my long black dress, the hair he had seen shaped into a masterpiece earlier this afternoon along with my flawless makeup. His eyes rested on my lips for a beat too long. He tore his eyes away and looked at the heels that I had placed in the bottom of the passenger seat to put on after I finished driving. They were ridiculously long and tied up my lower leg.
He swallowed and then met my gaze again.
"You're stunning."
My heart fluttered in my chest again. And I told it to calm the fuck down.
"You look gorgeous too," I said, eyeing his tuxedo and the bow he'd put on instead of a tie. He was perfect. Except for his hair, he had somehow managed to subdue it into submission, and I longed to run my hands through it and mess it up to his usual style.
I always believed it was more about the person and the body beneath than any clothes they were wearing, and I was hyper aware that Heath would look fucking incredible without anything on.
Made worse was the fact that I desperately wanted to see him without anything on.
I needed to find someone tonight, otherwise, I might spontaneously burst from lust when I brought Heath back to my home tonight.
"That was a massive suitcase you put in the boot - how long were you planning on staying?" I asked as I led the car back to the road.
"As long as necessary," Heath replied. "But you are, of course, completely entitled to kick me out at any time."
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YOU ARE READING
Hustler
RomanceMax's mind is set: she doesn't need a man for anything more than sex. Yet Heath enters her life promising everything BUT sex. So after a month of being together... why does she still want him around? WARNING: This features mature content, for ages 1...