Your Body Is A Wonderland.

Not Myself

I'm probably being stupid by wasting two uploads in one day, but whatever! I'm excited! I think I'll post the next one too, even though this one is long.

That's what she said.

But for some reason three pages of this chapter was cut off, but no worries! I fixed it(:

If you haven't already noticed the trend with the title/chapter titles, they're John Mayer's songs. I love him to death.

Enjoy!

Silently, I walked out of the house and closed the door behind me, following the guy to his car parked on the street outside, while trying not to meet his eyes. For some odd reason, he was making me feel weird emotions that I couldn't name.

He beeped the sleek black Porsche and opened the door for me.

"Thanks." I mumbled, feeling like this was more of a date than a job - except for the fact that I was wearing nothing but lingerie and a trench coat. And that this man was paying to sleep with me.

We sped off in silence, me staring out the window and the man keeping his eyes on the road. Usually in car rides with customers, I'd start my duties to get as much money as I could out of them. That was usually when they started coming onto me first, though. But this man wasn't really acknowledging me.

It was like he'd forgotten why I was here. Or that I was even sitting in the car with him.

As if he could read my mind, he looked over at me and sent me a quick smile, "You like John Mayer?"

I frowned in confusion, but then nodded my head. He was my favorite artist.

The guy nodded and turned on the music on his complicated looking dash. John Mayer's "Your Body is A Wonderland" came on.

I wanted to smile at the slight coincidence. But I didn't. Instead, I glanced over at the man sitting next to me and found him blushing lightly. He didn't change the song, but I could tell he wanted to.

Luckily for him, we pulled up to his house before we had to listen to too much of it.

Well, I guess house was an understatement.

We pulled up to a mansion.

He circled around a marble fountain in the middle of the drive and pulled into a large garage. He parked the car in between a Ferrari and a Lotus.

After opening the door for me, I climbed out and we passed by two different colored Ducati's and a segway.

I whistled softly at the expensive cars and toys in his garage, thinking he couldn't hear, but by the raised cheekbones on his profile, I realized that he was slightly smiling.

We went into his massive house and he led us into the kitchen.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, pulling out a six pack of Coronas from the fridge.

I shook my head.

"Well I'm starved." He reached in and took out butter, milk, eggs, whipped cream and strawberries. He cracked the eggs into a large bowl, whisking all of his ingredients together.

He glanced up at me as I watched him cook and nodded to a chair against the counter, "Make yourself at home."

I observed as he melted butter in a flat pan and poured a small amount of batter into it, spreading it into a thin layer. With grace and confidence, he flipped the circle of batter over to cook the other side, then he slid it onto a plate. The man brought out a cutting board and quickly chopped up a few strawberries. He reached into the cupboard and brought out Nutella, spreading it onto his food, then dropping a few berries onto it, topping it with a swirl of whipped cream, and finally rolling it up.