The Pretend Girlfriend

Chapter Thirty One~ Escort?

**** Warning this chapter contains some sexual material. If you're not comfortable with this, than I suggest you to skip this chapter. Thank you****

"Hey, look at this," Aiden said.

He sat shirtless in his office chair. Gwen wore that shirt, a light blue button-down that set off Aiden's eyes so nicely, and nothing else. It felt nice against her skin, and hung most of the way down her thighs. She came up behind him, kissing those broad, naked shoulders. His skin broke out in gooseflesh at the touch of her lips.

"Oh, you like that, do you?" Gwen replied, her voice sultry.

Shortly after they'd arrived, Aiden had made certain to close all the curtains over those big windows. Then he'd made them supper (spaghetti with a sauce of his own making). And then they'd settled in for some cuddling time in front of the TV. Of course, cuddling time became something that could be better termed as naked fun time, followed by naked sleeping time with a couple fun time interruptions thrown in. All that fun came at a price, however. Every muscle and fiber in Gwen's body ached like someone had wrung them all out one at a time like they were wet cloths or towels. Still, Gwen figured she could work through the pain if Aiden could. Her lips traveled up his neck and she nibbled lightly at his earlobe. Aiden succumbed to her charms quickly, pushing himself out of the chair. He put his arms around her and pulled her close, ready to go in for the kill, Gwen waiting as his willing prey. And then she got a glimpse of his computer's screen. It was a picture of the back of a yellow cab speeding away down a New York street. Gwen could make out her own face, as well as Aiden's, staring out the back window of that taxi.

"That's from yesterday?" she asked, her lusty desires whisked away by growing concern.

"Uh, yeah. Hey, you shouldn't look at that. It's nothing," Aiden said, reaching to back turn the computer off.

She batted his hand out of the way. His unwillingness to let her see just what it said unnerved her, but by then she couldn't contain her curiosity. There was a headline above the picture, partly cut off from Aiden scrolling down the page. She prodded the up arrow on the keyboard a couple times, moving back up the page. It read, "Billionaire Heir Assaults Photographer, Seen Leaving Empire State with Escort." Escort? Gwen knew the word, It took her a second to realize its connotation regarding this picture.

"They think I'm some pricey hooker?" Gwen said.

Aiden tried pulling her closer, shifting his body so that it stood between her line of sight and the screen. "No, no, that's not it..."

She pushed away from him. This was not acceptable. If only Henry stood before her right at that moment so that she could wring his old neck.
"It's okay, Gwen, this will all blow over..."

"When? When will it be over? When we call it quits like your dad wants? Then he'll call off the vultures?" the volume of her voice surprised even her.

She could tell that she was losing it, teetering right on the edge of a panic attack, extreme rage, something like that. And she also knew that this was exactly what Henry would want her to feel: trapped, with only one way out. Aiden swooped in and hugged her close, pinning her arms between their bodies. She managed a few fitful, halfhearted punches and slaps to his chest, but he didn't let go.

"It's okay, it's fine," he whispered, stroking the back of her head, letting his fingers thread through her hair, "Come on, sit down. That's good, shh..."

He'd sat her down in his office chair (which was still warm from his fine butt, Gwen noticed) and knelt down in front of her.

"I'm not a child!" she said, trying to sound indignant at his method for calming her.