CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Jelly
Paolo and I were still getting used to each other. We’d spent a ridiculous amount of time in bed; long enough that I thought he might be getting tired of me.
But as the days and weeks went by, that didn’t seem to be a concern. He spent the night every night, which surprised me. I woke up in his arms some mornings, and some mornings he’d already left for work.
I reported at the same time every day for my internship at the hospital, but I knew his hours varied from day to day.
I would see him sometimes during the day, and I did my best to appear nonchalant when we passed each other.
I’d try to give him a basic greeting, like one I would give to a former employee or co-worker.
When I got home, I did my best to do what Carmen had said to do. It was my job, she wasn’t shy to remind me, to keep him happy.
“Remember,” she’d said the last time I’d gotten coffee with her and Madeline, “you have two jobs now. You have the internship, and you have the contract. You know what you need to do for the internship, but I’m here to remind you what you need to do for the contract.
And there is one main thing.” She’d given me an intense look.
“That is keep Paolo Lanetti happy. Very happy. He’s paying a lot of money for you to be his every fantasy for the next few months. You will fulfill that contract.”
Madeline had nodded. “That means you keep your hair, waxing, and nail appointments every week. That means you wear hot as fuck lingerie every single day for him. That means when you get home from the hospital and you’re tired, you don’t take a shower, throw your hair in a messy bun, and sit on the couch in sweats.
You take a shower, re-do your hair and makeup, and put on a nice outfit in time to greet him at the door.
” She’d looked around at our audience in the coffeeshop.
“And you’re ready to fuck him at a moment’s notice.
Free use. You know what that means, right? ”
I thought back over their words now. I was beat.
I’d had a hell of a day at the hospital, and all I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed early.
But Carmen and Madeline were right; Paolo’s money was paying for school.
It was going to buy me a house. He’d already bought my car and a shit ton of very expensive designer clothes.
The least I could do was look beautiful for him.
And fuck him. It’s not like that was a burden.
He turned me on like no one else ever had.
I bit my lip. I was already pretty sure he was going to ruin me for all other men.
He was everything I wanted in a man; everything I desired.
I tried not to think about how I’d feel when our contracted time was up.
I grabbed a Coke Zero from the fridge for a caffeine boost, then hopped in the shower. I was just finishing up my hair and makeup as I heard him come home from work.
“Hey,” I yelled out in greeting. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Do you want to go out?” He called.
I padded out in my bare feet and a robe. “Where?”
“I thought we’d eat on the rooftop at Bahia Del Sol. What do you think?”
“Sounds perfect. Do you know I worked there for a week or so with Daisy when Leo and Joaquin needed some extra help?”
“I wish I’d known that then. I was probably depressed, sitting in Sugar and wondering where the hell you were.”
I smiled and walked over to him. Paolo was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Sometimes I forgot exactly how tall he was because I often wore heels around him. Even at the hospital I wore Dansko clogs which added a couple of inches at least. But standing beside him when I was barefoot? I felt tiny.
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” His gray eyes were hard to read. “I hate my new front desk receptionist. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like kids. I’m going to have to get rid of her.” He bent and kissed me again, his hands gripping my waist. “But that’s not the only reason I missed you,” he admitted.
He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear carefully, studying my face. “You look gorgeous. How do you always look so perfect?”
I wasn’t going to be the one to spoil the fantasy. I wasn’t revealing that I’d just re-done my morning routine so I looked fresh as a daisy for him. One day he’d get married. His wife could spoil it for him.
I felt a sudden, sharp pain of sadness that he’d settle down with someone else someday. Someone who wasn’t me. I didn’t realize I had a hand on my chest until he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I forced a smile. I was being ridiculous.
I knew I didn’t stand a chance with him.
He was going to marry some society woman bred to be a doctor, businessman, or lawyer’s wife.
Not a hostess from a strip club who didn’t have a clue who her dad was.
“Let me get dressed and we can go, if you’re ready. ”
“Sounds good,” he massaged his temples, wincing.
I frowned. “Are you sure you want to go out? I’m fine with staying in.”
He opened his eyes and looked at me as if I’d said I was Santa Claus’ wife. “You are?”
“Sure. We can order in. I can make you a cocktail.” I rolled my eyes. “Or pour you a whiskey since you’re boring and never like to change it up.”
He grinned. “You know me so well.” He plopped down on one of the bar stools. “That sounds fantastic, actually.”
“Let me go get dressed.”
“Wait a minute,” his commanding tone had me stopping on a dime and turning to face him. “What are you going to wear?”
“Um… a sundress?”
His eyebrows went up. “To stay in? I’m going to shower and then put on a T-shirt and some sweatpants.”
I forced a smile. That sounded so damn good. But I didn’t want Carmen or Madeline to find out.
He was staring at me. “Why are you looking like that? Go put on leggings or something like that.”
“If you insist,” I ran out of the room. He’s the one who told me to wear it, I rationalized.
We spent the evening eating Thai takeout on the balcony.
I drank wine; he drank whiskey. We talked, laughed, and got to know each other better.
But I already felt comfortable with him.
I guess that’s because I’d known him for a while now, and I’d known he was at least somewhat into me for that whole time.
He looked extremely hot in his plain white T and gray sweatpants. We cuddled next to each other on the couch continuing to talk after we’d finished dinner and come inside.
“What do you like to watch on TV?” he asked.
I winced. “I don’t want to tell you,” I admitted.
He laughed. “Seriously? Just tell me.”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
I had my legs stretched over his lap, and he pulled them down so I’d be closer to him. “My wine!”
He reacted fast and grabbed it out of my hand to keep if from spilling. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “But you have to tell me. I’m holding this hostage.” He held up my glass.
“Fine. I like Snapped and 48 Hours.”
“Oh, I do, too.”
My eyes widened. “Yeah?”
“No. I’ve never watched them.” He grinned at me.
I mock hit him. “I believed you.”
He leaned in, staring at me with those intense gray eyes of his. “Let me tell you a secret. I will watch anything you want to watch, baby. Just being here with you is… perfect.” He handed me back my glass of wine and tucked a blanket around my legs and over his lap.
***
We took turns brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed.
The bathroom was huge; that wasn’t the problem.
I just felt kind of shy doing certain things around him.
Maybe by the end of our four months together I wouldn’t mind so much.
But now? I wanted there to be a little mystique left around our relationship.
And talking to him with a mouth full of foaming toothpaste didn’t scream ‘mystique’ to me.
When I came out of the bathroom, he was already in bed.
He’d taken off his shirt and was just lying on top of the sheets in his gray sweatpants.
I had to keep myself from drooling. My God.
The man was perfection. He was totally cut.
I didn’t know how he stayed in such good shape while maintaining a surgeon’s schedule and spending so much time at Sugar.
“How often do you work out?” I blurted.
He gave me a cocky grin. “Why? You like what you see?”
“I think you know I do,” I said with a little snark.
“I like to run. I go for a jog most mornings and hit the gym a few times a week.” He crooked his finger at me. “And I like to round out my workout plan with fucking a lot,” he said. “What’s under that robe, baby?”
My mouth had gone dry at the ‘fucking a lot’ comment. “Oh.” I looked down at myself. I was wearing a see-through purple lace teddy with an extreme push-up bra and matching thong. I undid the robe and tossed it onto one of the antique chairs Carmen decorated the condo with.
His eyes felt like they were going to burn me alive, and I saw an almost instant tent appear in his sweatpants. “Fuck.” He closed his eyes briefly. “You have no idea how hot you are. Come here, baby.” He patted the bed beside him, and I climbed up next to him, sitting on my knees and facing him.
“I have to tell you something,” he said, still lying back and looking up at me. “Do you know that you could get me to do almost anything you wanted? Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? And,” he sat up and pulled me to him, “I’ve had to work out a hell of a lot harder ever since I’ve known you.”
I was confused. “Why is that?”
“Because I couldn’t get the fucking part of my workout in, baby. I only wanted you. Nobody else would do.”
I pushed his rock-hard chest back down and straddled his waist, taking care to make contact with his cock.
He hissed out his appreciation as I moved over him.
“You’re telling me,” I said, “that you haven’t fucked anyone since you first saw me at Sugar?
” I was definitely skeptical. How could a man who looked like him not take advantage of all the pussy probably being offered up to him on a daily basis?