Bound by Desire | Completed

call you who?

I stared at him in shock before saying, "I'm sorry. I have the wrong room." My voice was high pitched and squeaky, likely alerting him to my embarrassment.

His gaze fell to the coat I was wearing, "No. You have the right room."

Oh my fucking God.

I didn't think to ask Ava for a picture of the man since it wasn't important. Looks weren't at the top of the list for these kind of things.

He stepped back from the door, "Come in."

I think the fuck not.

"I don't think that's appropriate." I said uncomfortably, "You know because of.. you know."

He didn't look the slightest bit surprised that I was standing here and I was wondering why, until I remembered Ava sent him my picture.

So he wanted to have sex with me.

My professor knows I'm an escort.

And he wants to have sex with me.

For some reason, knowing that he was attracted to me caused a surge of arousal to go through my body.

Maybe it was because of the way his eyes were fixated on mine, or the fact that the shirt he was wearing allowed me to see close to every inch of his thick muscles.

I'm hardly ever attracted to the men I sleep with, believing them to be some type of low-life, because who has to pay for pussy?

But this, this was different.

I stood in front of his open door, warring with my thoughts.

Ava's earlier words about him being nice & attentive replayed in my head as I continued to stupidly stand there and stare at him.

"Who said it had to be appropriate?" He asked, his voice dripping with sex.

It was like my feet moved on their own accord as I stepped inside of the room. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly into a small smile at my movement.

I slowly closed the door behind me, keeping my eyes on his. In this moment, I didn't feel like an escort, I felt like a normal woman about to have sex with a man.

Until he reached into his pocket and extended his hand that contained crisp hundred dollar bills towards me.

Nevermind.

I accepted the money with my eyes on the floor, the embarrassment returning as I remembered that this was just a job.

He put his hand under my chin, lifting it to make eye contact, "You're far too beautiful to ever hold your head down."

Maybe he was just a dick in class.

I cleared my throat, "Should we get started..." I Trailed off, waiting for him to tell me what to call him.

"Jaxon."

The "x" was enunciated, which told me he took pride in the unique spelling. Never in my life had I met a black man named Jackson, let alone Jaxon.

He walked closer to me, helping me remove my coat. The cool hotel air hit me, causing goosebumps to appear on my exposed shoulders.

It wasn't the air that made my nipples harden however, but rather the fact that he was standing close enough to me that I could feel his warmth, smell his cologne, and when he leaned to press a kiss to my shoulder, feel his length against my back.

My breathing hitched as he trailed his nose across my back, inhaling the slightest bit.

"Let me take this off." Jaxon murmured against my skin as his hand played with my dress strap.