Seduced by the Night

Seduced by the Night

Priscilla Padilla

5.0
Comment(s)
107
View
35
Chapters

"Just one night?" I questioned, slowly bringing my gaze back up to his. "Just one night," he reiterated. I took a deep breath. "If I do this, then you have to promise me that one night will be enough." "Dove, you know I can't make that promise." He closed the distance between us, reaching up to caress my cheek. "And neither can you." ******************************************************************** Harlynn Murphy is a 23 year old Escort. Under the alias Dove, everyone knows who she is in the Escort world. But outside of her occupation, she's just Harlynn- a woman simply trying to pay her rent on time and be the best mama she can be to her fur baby Bolt. 23 year old Mason has always believed in living life to the fullest. Especially when it comes to women. Never having had an issue in the women department, Mason is shocked when he can't find a date for his older brother's wedding. So, as a last-minute resort, he decides to hire an Escort. What happens when their business relationship turns into a friend with benefits? Will the two be able to keep from falling for each other?

Chapter 1 Beachside Encounter

Panting, I feel like I'm going to pass out. This heat is no joke. Which is why I'm pissed that I'm out here and not back in my apartment where the air conditioning is currently blasting.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I apologize to the people I've accidentally bumped into on my way down to the beach.

Bolt, my black and tan German Sheperd is bolting -hence the reason for his name- towards the neon green tennis ball he just saw being thrown into the air.

He's not usually this reactive, but tennis balls have always been his weakness ever since he was a little puppy. Anytime he saw the damn thing he would take off.

I put him in multiple training schools, especially when he was a puppy and not one person managed to shift his focus away from the ball. And it's not just any ball. It's tennis balls he likes. He could care less about any other ball.

"Damn you, Bolt!" I yell, knowing he heard me because he looked back. "Get back here!" He turns his head, still making a run for the ball he saw seconds ago.

I promise I'm a good dog owner. I always keep him on a leash during walks, and I have been working to correct his behavior. Of course, no one knows that. All they see is an owner chasing after their large, unpredictable dog.

Bolt and I were on our way back to my apartment from our afternoon walk when he saw the ball. I didn't have a solid grip on the leash and he took off.

Which is why I'm running. And although I'm in good shape, I didn't prepare myself to run across the beach for my dog in the middle of the hot ass day.

I watch from a distance as Bolt leaps into the air to catch the tennis ball in his mouth. My eyes follow the large fur ball as he runs back over to whoever threw the ball.

I pause, my mouth forming an o shape as I watch Bolt tackle a guy to the ground.

That looked like it hurt.

When I finally reach Bolt, who's licking all over the guy's face, I grab his harness and move to pull him off.

"Sit," I command.

Bolt plops down into a sitting position, his long pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He cocks his head to one side, his slanted ears making it difficult to be upset with the one year old pup.

I turn my attention back to the guy he knocked over. "I am so sorry. He really likes tennis balls. And I know that's not an excuse, but-"

"It's okay," the guy cuts in. Green eyes flicker up to me, his lips curling up into a drop dead gorgeous smile.

I wasn't really looking at him, but I am now. He has waves of thick dark hair that looks like a deep shade of red in the sunlight.

My eyes trail over the tattoos on his arms before focusing on one in particular that peeks out of his salmon pink swim trunks. I'm unable to figure out what it is, but it looks like it may be a part of a much larger tattoo.

Tearing my gaze away from his beautifully sculpted abdomen, I look over just as a miniature black Schnauzer walks over to her owner, her little tail wagging.

The guy stands to his feet and brushes off the sand clinging to his swim trunks. Picking up the saliva covered ball, he gives it back to Bolt.

"Oh, he doesn't-"

"He can have it," he says with a smile. "I don't mind. I have plenty more at home."

"Thank you," I reply, mirroring the smile on his face.

My face heats up when I realize he's now checking me out. I'm not one to get flustered easily, but there was just something about those green eyes. I feel like he could see right through my matching black athletic wear.

His eyes fall to my midriff before quickly meeting my eyes again. The smile on his face stretched when he realized I caught him checking me out.

Ah, so he's one of those.

He's hot. I'll give him that. But he's clearly a man whore. Or he's a pervert. Either way, I refuse to engage a guy like that. The man has commitment issues written all over his handsome, chiseled face.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?"

"No."

The smile on his face vanishes, a frown taking its place. "Why not?"

"Because if I tell you my name, then you're going to want my number."

"And what's wrong with that?" He asks, tilting his head the same way Bolt had done just a moment ago.

"I know guys like you."

I deal with guys like him on a daily basis. They're rich horn balls who only care about one thing. And that's sex.

Unfortunately for them, as an escort I don't provide sexual services. I'll cling to your arm like a married couple in the newlywed stage. And whether it's to wow your parents, or piss off an ex, I'll become whoever you want me to be.

For a hefty fee, of course.

Curiosity sparkles in his eyes. "Enlighten me, darling."

"I'm guessing you grew up in a big house surrounded by loving family members, went to an Ivy League school, and have probably never had an issue when it comes to women. In fact, they flock to you because you're a rich pretty boy."

I recieve no reaction from him. He just stares, patiently waiting for me to finish analyzing him.

"Sure, you have a heart of gold," I continue. "But you often think with your..." I quickly look down, then back up. "You're what? A solid four inches flaccid and about six inches when hard?" He simply raises a brow and I grin. "Anway, you often think with your dick. So I mean this in the most respectful way when I say this, but no I will not tell you my name. And no, I will not give you my number."

"Damn, I'm impressed," he admits, nodding his head in approval. "Though, you're wrong about one thing."

"Really?" I question in surprise, thinking my analysis of him had been spot on. "What did I get wrong?"

"I'm actually six inches flaccid and eight when hard. But you know, A for effort." He smirks. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, no name." He turns to leave, motioning his dog to follow with a soft whistle and a pat of his thigh.

Hmm... Now that he mentions it, my measurements of his cock size was a little off.

Turning to Bolt, I scratch behind his ears and pat his head. He's looking up at me with those innocent brown eyes of his, as if to say, "you like him, don't you?"

I find myself glancing in the guy's direction before quickly looking away. "Eh, he's alright," I answered, as if Bolt had really asked me a question. "Now come on, let's go finish our walk."

Continue Reading

Other books by Priscilla Padilla

More

You'll also like

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

Jilted Bride's Revenge: The Valkyrie Awakens

Gujian Qitan
5.0

I had been a wife for exactly six hours when I woke up to the sound of my husband’s heavy breathing. In the dim moonlight of our bridal suite, I watched Hardin, the man I had adored for years, intertwined with my sister Carissa on the chaise lounge. The betrayal didn't come with an apology. Hardin stood up, unashamed, and sneered at me. "You're awake? Get out, you frumpy mute." Carissa huddled under a throw, her fake tears already welling up as she played the victim. They didn't just want me gone; they wanted me erased to protect their reputations. When I refused to move, my world collapsed. My father didn't offer a shoulder to cry on; he threatened to have me committed to a mental asylum to save his business merger. "You're a disgrace," he bellowed, while the guards stood ready to drag me away. They had spent my life treating me like a stuttering, submissive pawn, and now they were done with me. I felt a blinding pain in my skull, a fracture that should have broken me. But instead of tears, something dormant and lethal flickered to life. The terrified girl who walked down the aisle earlier that day simply ceased to exist. In her place, a clinical system—the Valkyrie Protocol—booted up. My racing heart plummeted to a steady sixty beats per minute. I didn't scream. I stood up, my spine straightening for the first time in twenty years, and looked at Hardin with the detachment of a surgeon looking at a tumor. "Correction," I said, my voice stripped of its stutter. "You're in my light." By dawn, I had drained my father's accounts, vanished into a storm, and found a bleeding Crown Prince in a hidden safehouse. They thought they had broken a mute girl. They didn't realize they had just activated their own destruction.

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback

Huo Wuer
4.5

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book