Submersed (14 page)

             
For a split second, I imagined myself in an alternate universe doing just that.
Dancing for Dillon Milano.
I could see myself swiveling my hips, bending down to touch my ankles, trailing my fingers up my shins, thighs, hips and up to cup my breasts. I imagined running my fingers through my hair, scooping it up and letting it fall back down around my face.

             
I imagined stripping off my clothes, piece by piece, and tossing my bra where it would land ironically on a lampshade in the corner. My panties would be next, carelessly flung onto a nearby chair.

             
But that wasn’t something I could do in this time continuum.
This lifetime.
This body.

             
No.

             
It was a trap.

             
Dillon was tricking me into humiliating myself in front of him. So he could laugh at me.

             
All I heard was the laughing.

             
I should’ve been locked up somewhere years ago. The world had no place in it for someone like me. Someone so bruised and fragile and…broken. Yes, I was broken with no hope of fixing myself.

             
No matter how much colorful paint I slathered over the surface, camouflaging myself, I was still broken and mangled inside.

             
My pulse sped up and I clamped my hands over my ears to stop the nauseating sound of laughter. My knees buckled and I collapsed in a pathetic heap on the floor.

             
Dillon rushed over, scooped me up and carried me into the bedroom where he gently sat me down on the bed. He left, which was just as well, but then he came back a second later with a glass of water from the kitchen.

             
I gulped the water down and as soon as I caught my breath, I apologized.

             
He brought me in for a hug and I sighed at the feel of his big warm arms around me. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

             
“Yes. I am now.”

             
I’m sorry I’m a coward
, I wanted to say. That bastard Derrick had turned me into an agoraphobic, panicky, coward.

             
Dillon hadn’t been trying to humiliate me. He was just being a guy. I knew that now. I had seen my reflection in the window. I had seen how my body looked writhing to the music.

             
I sat up straight and smoothed my hair back. “I’m sorry,” I said again.

             
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and let his finger linger on my earlobe. “You’re very sexy.”

             
I shook my head. “Why are you so nice to me, Dillon? Are you nice because I’m paying you to be?” There it was. The question I’d been asking myself since he’d first walked through my door. I bit down on my lip, silently cursing myself for sounding like a bitch.

             
Dillon made a wounded sound and heaved in a deep breath. “I wouldn’t say something I don’t mean,
Livi
. I just wouldn’t say anything at all.”

             
“Promise?”
I said softly and squeezed his hand.

             
“Promise.
You have an incredible body. There’s no reason you should be ashamed of it. There really isn
’
t.”

             
“Don’t be so sure. You haven’t even seen it naked yet.” Did I just say
naked
?
Yet
?

             
“Okay then.” His voice rose at the challenge. “Let’s see it.”

             
I blushed and ignored his dare. “Were you always so confident with your body?”

             
He shook his head with mock disgust. “You think you’re going to get out of it by changing the subject?”

             
“Just answer the question.”

             
“What was it again? I was distracted by the thought of your naked body.”

             
I attempted to elbow him, but he dodged out of the way. “I asked you if you’ve always been this cocky.”

             
Dillon’s lips curved into a smirk. “If you keep saying words like
naked
and
cock
y we’re never going to get anywhere.”

             
I blushed and swung at him, but he intercepted the blow by flattening me on the bed and holding my arms down so I was helpless under his weight. I didn’t move. I didn’t struggle or attempt to free myself. I just lay there under Dillon’s warmth and stared into his eyes. His body was hard where mine was soft. I should have danced for him. It was too late now
,
so I smiled as his chest rose and fell against me.

             
He smiled back and released me by rolling to his side. “I’ve always been pretty much secure in my body.” He leaned back on his elbow and played with my hair. “Guys are different like that. I was kind of small when I was a kid, though, and my older brother picked on me a lot. Then I started following him to the gym and bulked up a little. That helped me in the self-esteem department. What
’
s your reason,
Livi
?”

             
I wanted to tell Dillon everything. I wanted him to hold me like this while I told him about the hurtful words and the laughing. I wanted to tell him about Derrick.

             
But I couldn’t.

             
I had to hold it all inside for just a little longer.

             
I leaned up beside him and propped myself up on an elbow. “I…I’m just not comfortable.” It was a weak answer and it wasn’t nearly all of the truth, but Dillon didn’t push. I knew he wouldn’t because he never did.

             
“It amazes me that a woman could be so ashamed of such a beautiful body.” He took my hand and slid his thumb over my knuckles. “Your hands are small and pretty.” He ran his warm fingers down my arm and over my elbow. “Your arms are nice.” Bending down, he kissed my wrist, his tongue cruising over the veins there. “Your neck…” With the back of his hand, he caressed my neck and I thought I’d faint. “Your neck is graceful and would make a vampire cum in his pants.”

             
I made a strangled sound as my body tightened above and below the waist.

             
“Your breasts,” he reached to cup them, but I playfully slapped his hand away.
“Are just the right size.
Not too big, not too small.”

             
I could feel my face flushing ten shades of red as Dillon continued in that throaty, sexy voice.

             
“Your stomach is nice and flat.”

             
“I wish!”

             
He ignored me and continued. “And your thighs…
Mmmm
,” he murmured with a lick of his lips. “Any man would give his right arm to bury his head between them for an hour or so.”

             
“Dillon!” I gasped. I couldn’t believe he was saying these things to me. I had no idea this was what he thought about when he looked at me.

             
“Every inch of your legs is beautiful. I get hard every time I think about them wrapped around my waist. And your toes, well I don’t have a foot fetish or anything, but--”

             
“Okay, okay. That’s enough.” I pulled him up from inspecting my pinkie toe.

             
His smoldering gaze met my astonished one.

             
“Satisfied?” he asked.

             
“Yes. You proved your point.
Loud and clear.”

             
We lay there for a while in each other’s arms and I listened to his heartbeat through his shirt. I matched my breathing to his, slow and calm.

             
“Dillon?”

             
“Hmm?”

             
“Did you always picture yourself being an escort?” I had never asked him about his line of work before, but now there was so much more I wanted to know about him. So much I
needed
to know.

             
“No, not at first.”
He was quiet for a minute. “I grew up in New York. After high school, I struggled and I even stripped for a while to make ends meet. My buddy Mike, who’s now my roommate, called and bragged about how much money he was making in Vegas so I decided to fly out and see for myself. I’ve been here ever since.”

             
“You were a stripper?” I tried to picture my
sweet,
polite Dillon bending down so hysterical women could shove dollar bills into his G-string. I shivered at the image.

             
He shrugged. “I did a few bachelorette parties.
Nothing too crazy.”

             
“Why do you think women hire you?” I knew hardly any of them hired him for the reasons I did.

             
“Oh, for all kinds of different reasons.
Some want sex with no strings attached. Some just want a massage because they crave human touch. Some want intimacy without the involvement of a relationship. Some are married and want what their husbands can’t or won’t give them. Some women want to be in charge. They want that power of being in control without being judged.”

             
I knew the feeling. I didn’t necessarily want the power, but I could completely relate to the not wanting to be judged part.

             
“Do you ever get any couples?” I asked.

             
“Sure, I’ve had a few. Some guys like seeing another man with their wife or girlfriend and some women like to be with another man while their man watches.” Dillon shrugged again. “I don’t really see the appeal in that, but hey, whatever gets you off.”

             
Huh. He sounded so nonchalant about it. Then again, it was his job, so what did I expect?

             
“Have you…have you ever been with another man?” I didn’t know where all these questions were coming from, but they kept spewing out of my mouth before I could stop them.

             
“No. That’s definitely not my thing. I have been in a threesome, though. My roommate--”

             
“Mike?” I asked to show I’d been paying attention.

             
“Yeah.”
Dillon flashed me a smile. “Mike had this client who wanted to be with two guys and I ended up doing it. I agreed as long as we kept our junk from touching.”

             
I stifled a snicker and he stroked my hair. “Wasn’t it still weird?”

             
“Not really. It wasn’t about
us,
it was about making her happy.”

             
“Would you do it again?”

             
“I would if
you
wanted one.”

             
I jerked my head up.
“A threesome?
!
”

             
“Yeah.”

             
“Ha! I don’t even know what to do with you most of the time.” I covered my face with my hand. “Oh, wait that didn’t come out right.”

             
He pulled my hand away from my face and kissed my palm. “I know what you meant,
Livi
. So, you mean to tell me you’ve never fantasized about having two men ravish you at the same time?”

             
I thought about it for a minute.

             
Ha! My fantasy was to be able to leave the hotel without feeling nauseous. My fantasy was to step outside my room without the whole world laughing at me. My fantasy was to actually work up the nerve to
kiss
Dillon.

             
“No,” I finally answered. “Too many…”
Penises.

             
“Hands?”

             
“Yeah,” I replied. “I couldn’t handle that much going on at once.
Too overwhelming.”

             
Dillon shifted and pulled me closer. “So, what’s with all the questions,
Livi
?”

             
“Oh, I’m just curious. Can you blame me? I mean, what you do is so…
taboo
.”

             
“Yeah, I can understand your curiosity.”