You Called Me-ARE and Apple epub Read Online Free

know about being an escort anyway?”
    Kenya tipped her attention to the lint in the corner avoiding the sexy vibe oozing from this man because at this rate her four-inch heels wouldn’t be high enough to keep it from brushing her panties. Finally gaining her composure, she answered his question. “I don’t, Mr. Blakemore. I don’t live that lifestyle; you’ll need to look somewhere else for your perverted kicks.” Shoving the purse up her shoulder she peered down at her host and probably shouldn’t have said perverted. He looked like the handcuffs and whips kind of guy.
    “You have a backbone, I’ll give you that much, Kenya,” he complimented, and said in a business tone, “I need your help. Give me four days of your time, that’s all I’m looking for.”
    She hesitated piecing together the best way to answer him that didn't involve the pointy end of her heels. “You expect me to give you my four days—a week’s vacation with my shift, to spend it doing who knows what with you, a stranger, holding me hostage in an elevator?”
    “I’ll pay you.”
    She gulped. “Pay me?” she repeated certain she'd heard him wrong. Walking a tight circle in her little corner, she abruptly stopped, feeling light headed and fisted a hand to her hip, “Listen,” this couldn't be real , she thought. “I don't know and I don't wanna know what all you got going up here, but get it through your head, I’m not helping you.”
    Jonathan laughed aloud, a deep pre-recorded sound a ringing vibration in the tiny area. Had she not seen it come from his mouth, she'd had sworn it bounced from speakers in the ceiling and up through the floor. 
    He said, “Only four days, Kenya.”
    She popped out her hip resting her shoulder along the wall and shook her head. “I’ve already missed work today. Can’t you ask one of your neighbors? They know you.”
    “We won’t be alone.”
    She blew out a frustrated breath. “And I don’t do ménages.”
    He choked. “You know what a ménage is? I’m surprised.”
    Arrogant, self-centered prick.
    Her nostrils flared under his cocky and condescending tone. The fact that she didn't swing on a pole for a living, didn't mean she lived under a rock either. “You’re losing points by the minute, Mr. Blakemore. What is it you need?” Agitated, she rotated her ankles one at a time in the high heels.
    “You'd feel better if you sat down,” he urged, and she gave a quick no thank you head shake. He pulled a knee to his chest, reached out and drug a finger lightly around her ankle. “I need a woman to accompany me on a business trip in a week. I sponsor kids going away to camp and the parent who agreed to help had to cancel.”
    “And this was the best you could do, kidnap a sick stranger?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling, Calm down he could still kill or maim you . “All the women you must know, none of them would help you?”
    He eyed his watch then her. “Why do you think I know so many women?”
    Because your eyes hint that making stroganoff is not the only thing you do well . “Okay, all the men you must know and you kidnap me.”
    Jonathan bolted up from the floor and came at her faster than she could see him move, grabbing her fisted hands between them knocking her purse to the floor.  
    His big body pinned her into the corner crushing her against his pounding chest. She fought against him pulling her arms down to hold alongside her body. Her blood pumped so hard through her veins she swore her left ventricle popped loose from her heart. The room wavered, his hands locked onto her forearms, his face inches from her mouth. His thighs trapped her legs from kicking him.
    “It’s just me and you in here. I’m not gonna hurt you and that’s why you’re cocky as hell. Stop pretending I make you uncomfortable and just listen,” Jonathan complained.
    She snapped. “Why do you want my help?”
    “Because you’re cocky as hell and I like you.” He paused and Kenya felt every