CHAPTER 4

Ignoring Saint was the hardest job in the world, Naomi had concluded. She wanted to be able to block and delete his number from her contact list but she couldn't bring up her heart and hand in accordance to do so. Just as he had claimed that she had become a part of his daily routine,so had he, which was something she hated to admit to herself.

So much so, that the many times that he'd called her during the last week since the conversation she'd stare at the screen of her phone crying when her phone would light up to notify an incoming call from Saint.

Two weeks was a crazy short amount of time, but in that time that they'd been talking she'd found herself so quickly into him. Having someone who just wanted to talk to her, not for gain or to make an order, but to just be that lullaby that put her to sleep at the end of a stressful day was what she appreciated the most from her companion.

The nearly three decade age difference meant shit all to her and she believed neither for him too but that's where it ended. She so desperately wished that she had someone to talk to but didn't dare coming close to telling any of her friends because of the criticism she knew would surely come her way. They would only think one thing: Sugar-daddy.

And they wouldn't be wrong to think so.

Looking in the mirror at herself as she put her jacket on, tears fell from her eyes.

God help me.

Her virginity she viewed as most sacred, because that's what she'd been taught and that's what she believed it to be – the temple of God. She'd always wanted her husband to be the only one to touch her body and never up until a week ago thought it to be a paying customer.

But she had bills to pay.

Finally grabbing her scarf, phone and wallet she exited the room and got out of her student accommodation. It was only gone five in the late afternoon, but the sky was two shades from being pitch black. Light rain fell and Naomi put on her hood as she walked to the tube station.

Her nerves were bouncing all over the place as she tried hard not to think of what exactly the situation was. When she had texted Saint back three days ago to agree for a meet up she had told him they should meet in a hotel room, he'd asked why and she said because he didn't want anyone seeing them together. Even though he'd complied, Naomi couldn't help but think he'd felt some type of way about the answer but she tried not to dwell on it because she didn't want to care about how he felt especially now understanding how he viewed her as.

London was a big city and two strangers meeting again was hardly ever a possibility but Naomi wasn't about to take those chances. What gave her the most anxiety was the thought of a family friend seeing her entering the hotel and word was sent back to her parents. And so that's why from when she got off the tube and left the station she avoided making eye contact with anyone and kept her head down, the annoying part was that she'd received a text message from Saint saying the room card was needed to get into the lifts and so he'd be waiting in the lobby to get her up. Typing back an okay, she upped her pace as she crossed the streets and entered the hotel.

She saw him immediately. Pretending not have seen her he walked into the lifts that had just dinged open to let people out. Naomi followed suit. Her heart beat hard against her rib as they remained silent but with him watching her so unabashedly it was like he'd lit a match all over her body and she couldn't help but fidget as she waited impatiently for the lift to reach the floor they were going.

When the lift doors finally opened, Saint walked out first leading the way. With every step they inched closer to the room her anxieties were reaching the peak as she constantly kept turning around to make sure no one was around to see them.

Eventually they got to Saint's room and he put the card into the slot before grabbing the handle to push the door open.

It was only when she got inside the room that she let out of a deep breath of relief. The room as expected had Victorian-themed furnishings. She walked over to the window, mesmerised by the view of Mayfair.

“I wanted to stay at the Shangri-La but some people I know are staying there.”

She'd almost forgotten that he was in the room until she heard his voice behind her. Too close behind her. The tension was back again and Naomi had to force herself to look away from the views of the outside to face the reality of the situation inside.

He'd left a little space between them but with his towering height and magical eyes, Naomi was desperate to put more distance between themselves.

“I guess it's fine,” she replied whilst centring her eyes on his middle.

“Why can't you look at me?” he asked gently, so easily, still searing his eyes into her soul. Every single pore on her body was open to his touch when his finger traced her jawline but she slapped his finger away. Barely shaken, he reached behind her and closed the curtains before pressing her against it and with unauthorised access kissed the side of her neck.

“I've missed you so much, madmoiselle.”

At that moment in time, Naomi no longer felt present she felt like she was on the highway to Pleasure Paradise. Her eyes closed surrendering herself to the moment as Saint continued to leave trails of kisses down her collarbone.

It was weird how at home she felt in his arms and it was exactly this thought that snapped her back to reality.

“Saint, this is not what I came here for.”

“I know. I know,” he repeated as he rested his temple against hers. “The truth is Naomi, I don't want you to go. I don't want to stop talking to you. I know this sounds fucking crazy given how different we are and how long we've known each other but I need you to understand there is something about you that I can't put my finger on just yet, but whatever it is it's making me do stupid things. I act with my heart but sometimes the portrayal of my actions do not make my pure intentions clear. Me reporting you to your supervisor was wrong, me being rash with my views on your finances was wrong too and me asking you to be my prostitute was out of order and I ask that you forgive me please.”

With every passing word, her heart swelled or ceased motion, blood rushed to her face from feeling so incapable keep composure. She was out of her depths but willed herself to pretend to be strong in front of him and so without as much of a glance his way she said she forgave him.

“Do you really?”

Shocked by his doubt she leaned back from his contact. “Yes I do.”

“Look at me then and tell me so.”

Having no choice, she lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “I forgive you Saint-Luc.”

“Merci beaucoup.”

Twenty minutes later they were sat opposite each other on the desk eating in silence. Usually Naomi had a big appetite and her size 14 figure would have been an ode to that testament but Saint's presence, even though he wasn't doing anything was so intense and she could barely stand the sight of the spaghetti carbonara her plate.

“Why are you not eating?”

“I am eating,” Naomi replied defiantly as she rolled some of the spaghetti on to her fork.

Not wanting to aggravate an argument, Saint looked at her a moment before saying, “Okay.”

They stayed in silence some more. Naomi stared down at her plate still not wanting to look in his eyes, but when she did she was surprised to him standing up from his seat, grabbing his water bottle.

Her head had still not totally wrapped around the fact that she was here with him. Not at a football match, not at a strip club but in a hotel room.

She watched as he went into the closet and brought out a small zipped back. When he opened it, he took out a syringe and attached new needles onto it.

Confused as to what he was doing, Naomi was forced to break the silence. “What's that?”

Getting up he pulled down his black yoga pants, before sitting back down again on the bed leaving Naomi briefly distracted.

“I have to inject myself insulin because I have diabetes.”

Before Naomi knew what she was doing, she found herself seated next to him on the bed.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

Surprise was clear on Saint's face at her question. “If you want.”

“I do. Just in case.”

At her reply, Saint passed her a rubber glove from the bag before instructing her how to properly administer the shot. Few minutes later Naomi pinched the skin of his thigh before piercing the skin with the insulin shot. A wash of concern fell over her as she found herself wanting to ask if he was okay but seeing the unaffected look on his face she stopped herself.

She needed to stop caring about him so much.

“Thank you.”

“No worries,” she replied tossing the glove and needle into the nearby bin, “so do you have to do this everyday?”

“Everyday and with most meals.”

“Oh wow.”

“Naomi.”

It was just this thick, heavy gust of tension that made her feel like hot bursts of electricity were pricking her skin, and just the low, seductive pronunciation of her name from Saint had her feeling like she was in a totally new realm.

For few seconds they stared at each other, moving closer, gauging each other's reaction to see if either would pull back, but neither of them did and at last Saint brought his head low and captured her lips with his.

It didn't even register to her that she was having her first kiss, but her primal instincts had taken over and she was totally out of her mind as her tongue fought its way into Saint's mouth.

His hands, his lips were on her, all over her, very slow, the gentleman-ly kind, the one that tortured yet titillated her senses. Still very much into their kiss, Naomi's hands roamed underneath Saint's shirt to feel his warm naked flesh. And soon enough Naomi's clothes became an obstruction for Saint but within seconds he'd fixed the problem.

And then eventually the only thing left to be unveiled to him, was the gates to her Holy Temple. Just as his fingers reached out to her panties, her hands grabbed onto his.“Wait.”

“What?” He asked looking visibly frustrated but still concerned as he took in Naomi looking uncomfortable.

“I've got bushy pubes.”

It took him a slow second to realise what she said, but instead of replying Saint let out a low chuckle which Naomi found extremely sexy to listen to as he slowly slipped off her panties and leaned back a little soaking in her spirit, soul and body with his eyes.

And in low whisper, he said, “You're God's masterpiece.”

Hearing that, brought tears to Naomi's eyes as the inevitable materialised.

“I need money Saint-Luc, but I am not having sex unless I'm married.”

“I am not the marrying kind, Naomi.”

“Okay. At least we know where we stand,” she replied and was about to get up off the bed when his voice stopped her movements.

“I don't.”

“What do you mean?”

“You're implying I would have to pay to have sex with my wife? That makes no sense. ”

“That makes perfect sense. I'm a Christian and I've always believed in holding myself until marriage. Unfortunately because of circumstances the one I'm marrying might not just not be the one I'm in love with but one who can provide me financial stability as in turn I satiate his sexual needs.”

“Naomi , pourquoi êtes-vous si blasés?''

Looking confused to what he'd said she waited for him to translate.

''Why are you so jaded?''

''Life.''

''But you're only 19,'' he said before softly kissing the curve of her neck.

''I guess I'm a little bit more mature than my years.''

A sad look that matched hers was on Saint's face, before he lightly brushed his lips with hers. ''Let's get married next week.''