What We Do in the Night (Day to Night #1) - Stylo Fantome Page 0,38

have to pay a single dime last night, and you still would've fucked me.”

Valentine wasn't even going to try to argue with that one.

“So why did you pay?” she switched tactics instead.

He chuckled and rubbed his hand along his jaw.

“You want the truth?”

“Yes.”

He leaned down so he could whisper in her ear.

“Because I knew seeing you on your knees, covered in money, would get me harder than I've ever been in my life.”

I should hate him. I should really, really, hate him.

And she turned her head to say those exact words to him – that was her honest intention. Unfortunately, he turned at the same moment, and their lips connected, and the Big Bang she'd been fearing so much finally happened.

Her arm went around his neck and his went around her waist, their bodies straining to be together. His free hand was palming her breast through her shirt, and he growled when he felt her bra. Her own hand wasn't idle – she raked it through his hair, then grabbed a fistful and gently pulled.

“This is why I paid you last night,” he panted against her mouth. “And this is why I paid your boss for the next two weeks of nights.”

Like a cold bucket of water thrown right on top of a fire, he killed the moment. Valentine let go of him and gently stepped away, breaking his hold on her.

“You're really bad at this whole fantasy thing,” she managed to chuckle as she wiped at her mouth.

“I think it's more that you're really bad at this whole reality thing,” Ari challenged her, and she shrugged.

“Whichever. And you paid for my company during my nights at the club – not this,” she reminded him. “I'm not some prostitute you can just pick up for a quick fuck in your penthouse apartment, I'm sorry. Contrary to what you might think of me, my legs don't spread quite that easily.”

Ari sighed and scratched his fingers through his hair, then he dropped down to sit on the couch.

“I knew you were going to make things difficult.”

“Sorry. I like to think it's part of my charm.”

“That's stretching it. Sit down.”

She did as she was told, keeping a body space of distance between them. He glanced at the space, then gave her a mocking smile.

“I'm sure you could get some of your money back from Del,” she offered, hoping and praying she wouldn't have to give any back.

“No, I meant what I said – I'm paying for your time. And if you decide all you want to do during that time is play Parcheesi, then I guess that's what we'll be doing. It won't be the first bad investment I've ever made.”

Valentine was stunned for a moment, then she burst out laughing.

“I bet you've never played Parcheesi in your life.”

“You'd lose that bet. You make an awful lot of assumptions about me,” he pointed out.

“Sorry, you're easy to assume things about.”

“I brought you here,” he continued with their original discussion. “Because I knew you were probably upset or confused about the deal I made with DelVecchio, and I wanted to give you a chance to get your anger out of your system. You live with people and the club is always packed – my place seemed like a good idea.”

“You didn't bring me here for sex?” she asked, skeptical.

“You can't blame a guy for hoping. I do have a California king behind that partition,” Ari said, gesturing over his shoulder at a free standing wall.

“Okay, so you're telling me that even if I never fuck you again in the next two weeks, that money you paid will still be mine?” she double checked. He groaned.

“As much as it pains me to say it, yes. I wouldn't force you. But I'd probably give up my membership to Caché. Board games aren't really my thing,” he explained. She snickered; his dry sense of humor was growing on her. “However – should you decide to grace me with that amazing pussy ever again, I wanted you to know that my place was available for your personal use.”

Now that really surprised her.

“My 'personal use'? What exactly does that mean?”

Ari produced a key from his pocket, and Valentine's eyes got big as he handed it to her.

“You and I are the only two people who have a key,” he assured her. “No one else can come through that door. I work crazy hours, I don't want to always schlep down to your club – I also don't want to