Free Strife: Part Three (The Strife Series Book 3) by Sky Corgan Page A

she was all of last night. “I honestly didn't think Mister Sumner had such high-profile clients.”
    “I liked it when you didn't recognize me.” It's the truth. For once in a very long time, I felt like a regular guy. Now I'm worried that she'll treat me differently. Girls always do once they figure out who I am.
    “Would you prefer for me to keep calling you Brodie?”
    “When we're out in public, yes. It will keep the fans away.” I nod decidedly.
    “I highly doubt that. Someone showed me a picture they took of you drinking at some bar. I recognized you by the Crown and coke.” She winks at me.
    “Predictable already,” I laugh, enjoying that she doesn't seem as tense as she did the night before. Maybe she's getting comfortable with me.
    “Why didn't you just tell me who you are?” She turns to face me, her expression serious as if the lie offended her.
    A small smile creeps across my lips. “Because I didn't want you to treat me differently. Sometimes a man just wants to be a man, you know?”
    “I wouldn't know. For one, I'm not a man. And for two, I'm not famous.” She sighs and walks away, running a fingertip across the top of the big screen TV in the living room, her hips swaying from side to side and drawing my attention to her perfect ass. “I've spent my entire life pretending to be a normal girl. Trying to be invisible.”
    I can sense there's a double meaning to her words, but I'll save my questions for later. “I thought we'd go out to dinner tonight.”
    “Downstairs?” She perks up, looking at me over her shoulder.
    “No. Somewhere quieter. More private.”
    “Oh,” there's the faintest hint of disappointment in her voice.
    I ignore it. It's not her career on the line if we get caught.
    I sit down on the sofa to make a few phone calls, first contacting the front desk to ask for a list of private restaurants. Since they cater to so many famous people, I'm sure they'll have some good recommendations. Thankfully, I wasn't wrong with that assumption. The next thing I do is call a taxi. Most wealthy people would take a limo, but when discretion is the key, seeming more pedestrian is always the better choice.
    Alexis continues to stand by the television, resting her arm on the top of it and making eyes at me. She is treating me differently, and I can't tell if it's because she knows I'm famous now or because she's trying to be a better escort. Either way, I don't like it.
    “Well, we're all set. The taxi will call me when it arrives,” I tell her after ending the call.
    She takes long strides towards me, closing the distance between us. Her expression is that of a predator stalking prey. I have no idea how to react, so I just sit there. It feels like the world is moving in slow motion. She stops in front of me, hiking up her skirt, showing her perfectly shaped calves. Then she crawls on top of me, straddling my lap.
    “Maybe I'd rather stay in for dinner.” She traces a circle on my chest with her fingertip.
    “I'm kind of hungry,” I mumble, desperately trying to keep my desire for her at bay. Just feeling the warmth of her body on top of mine is getting me aroused.
    “I'm hungry too, but not for food.” She leans in to kiss me.
    My heart is pounding in my chest, my cock pressing hard against my jeans. The scent of her perfume envelopes me as her soft curls brush against my face. It takes everything in me to resist. I slide my fingers into her hair, tightening my grip just before her lips make contact with mine. She lets out a tiny pained gasp, which only turns me on more. I redirect her head, my mouth stopping only a centimeter away from her ear.
    “I don't want to do this,” I try to keep my tone as gentle as possible.
    “You're breathing heavily,” she whispers back. “That means you do want to do this.”
    I feel her hand slip between my legs, her palm tracing the outline of my dick. It twitches in response, my testosterone revving from the stimulation. If there was any