Single And Rich

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by Addison Jenkins


  I’m glad I shaved my legs was the last coherent thought Lois had before the man of her cinema dreams took her roughly by the hips and pushed inside her.

  She moaned as he muttered, “Fuck you feel good.” He started to move, his fingers digging into her hips in a punishing grip as he thrust his hips up to meet hers and pulled her down into him at the same time. Lois put her hands above her head, gripping the soft arm of the couch and making soft sounds of pleasure.

  “Oh my god…” she moaned. “Oh my god…”

  Jet moved one hand off her hips to rub his palm roughly over her clit, moving it in delicious circles. She felt a luscious ache begin deep inside her core and she knew it wouldn’t be long.

  It came fast, an explosion that had her crying out his name and made her whole body shake. She felt her walls clenching around his cock and a few more strokes saw his orgasm too. He put both hands back on her hips, driving himself into her more forcefully.

  “Ah, fuck. Fuck!” he growled. She watched his muscles clench and the pleasure twist his expression as he came inside her. He was even more beautiful like this. When he fell on top of her, gasping as he slid out, she wrapped her arms around him, wanting the pressure of his strong chest against her still trembling body.

  She didn’t know how long they lay like that, wrapped up in one another’s arms, living inside the haze of their orgasms. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours. But when Jet finally moved on top of her and she sensed he was about to get up, Lois knew it hadn’t been long enough.

  ***

  Jet gently untangled himself from her arms and got to his feet. He bent low, placing one last kiss on her overly sensitive clit. Lois bucked her hips in response, a small cry of pleasure escaping her lips.

  “Did you love that, darlin’?” he asked in soft voice as he reached for his boxers and started to get dressed. Lois could only manage to nod. “C’mon, Jezzi, I’ve got an early call in the morning. Let’s get you home.”

  Lois protested much as a spoiled child would pout when their favorite toy was taken away. Reluctantly, she took the proffered hand and rolled to her feet. Tenderly, Jet helped her get dressed. Holding her panties for her to step into and pulling them up her legs. He hooked her bra for her, straightened out her dress for her to slip into, and kissed her shoulder as he zipped up the back.

  All too soon, they were in his car and she was telling him where she lived. They pulled up to the curb and Jet leaned over to give her a last, passionate kiss before reaching past her to open the door. “For the press, remember? Night, darlin’,” he murmured and then he was already checking his rear view for traffic so he could pull out.

  Lois nodded, hanging hope on that last kiss and finally found the sidewalk. It was only then that she realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes. How had that happened?

  She made her way to the front door of her building and then there was movement to her right. She turned her head in time to see a flash of bright light. Lois raised her arm to block the flash and cried out. “Who are you? What do you want?” She was disoriented from the drink, the lack of shoes, and the lingering warmth within her from her encounter with Jet.

  “What was his apartment like?” a voice prompted her.

  “What?” Lois was panicking.

  “Did you sleep with him? Is he a stud or a dud? Did you do any blow?”

  “Who are you?” Lois demanded, her anger beginning to tear a seam in her passion-laden consciousness.

  “Was there anyone else living with him?” came the voice again.

  “Leave me alone!” Lois reached into her clutch and pulled out her cell. A karate-chop from the intruder’s hand launched it to the pavement. Lois kicked out but without a shoe, her foot held little potency. She began screaming, “Help! Help!” There was another flash and then Lois caught sight of a woman’s face. It was grinning sadistically, a mocking sight in the maelstrom of fear and confusion that was reigning in Lois’ confused mind.

  Lights came on in the building and a window opened above. “Lois? Is that you? Are you okay?” came her mother’s voice. The female stranger had disappeared and Lois called back.

  “I’m okay, I’m coming up.” She let herself into the building and climbed the stairs to her mother’s apartment. Neighbors’ doors were open and they gawked as she passed. Her hair was tousled, her mouth swollen from Jet’s kisses, and she wore no shoes. In her hand she carried her bag and a cell phone with a crushed screen.

  Her mother was waiting at the door and instantly went into protection mode. “Oh, my god! What happened to you?”

  “Nothing, nothing. I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not! You’ve been attacked. I’m calling the police!”

  “Mother, no! I’m fine! Give me your phone!” She ripped her mother’s cell from her hand and turned to go into her bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

  Tossing her things on the bed, she tapped out Palmer’s phone number. She had a thing with phone numbers, always found it easy to remember them.

  “Hello?” came his sleepy voice.

  “I’m sitting on my bed with a ruined dress, a smashed phone, a headache and I’ve just been accosted by some woman snapping my picture as I came home.”

  “It’s four in the morning!”

  “That’s your biggest concern? What time it is?” she berated him. “Palmer, this isn’t what you described. This is stupid-ass dangerous!” She was indignant.

  “Calm down. That was paparazzi; they follow him everywhere. You need to calm down and get used to it. No one hurt you, did they?”

  Lois had flashbacks of the lovemaking episode on the sofa. “No, no one hurt me.”

  “Okay, then pull yourself together and get some sleep. I’ll double your fee for tonight and replace the phone. Come by the office in the morning,” he finished, hanging up.

  ***

  Lois strode into Palmer’s office with something less than a delicate demeanor. “I’m not sure I like this at all.”

  Palmer turned a binder around and pushed it across the desk toward her. “Here, look at these pictures and tell me if you see the person outside your apartment.”

  As she fingered through the pages, Palmer placed a wad of hundred dollar bills and a new iPhone on the desk next to the binder.

  She looked up. “Thank you.”

  Palmer nodded.

  “This is her.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I don’t forget a face,” Lois confirmed.

  “Really. That may come in handy. She’s the one I figured it would be. She’s got it in for Jet, it’s personal with her. We’ll have to be careful from now on. Here, give me a hug and go home and get some more rest. This was part of the job, my dear,” he said, hugging her.

  Lois nodded, picked up the money and the phone and left. As soon as the door closed, Palmer picked up his phone.

  “What have you got on her?” he asked.

  “Working on it. Should have a few things by tomorrow.”

  “Bring them to me.”

  Palmer had spotted Cathy at the Nines and immediately called Hubert Humley, a man he hired from time to time when he needed information. He had instructed Humley to dig up whatever he could on Cathy; he wanted something to hold over her head. He’d spotted her snapping pictures so the next call he made was to the woman’s employer.

  Palmer traded one very juicy story he’d wanted to plant in the press for a hold on anything from Cathy Riley and a promise that she would no longer work through that agency. “I want her gone,” he stipulated and the voice at the other end agreed enthusiastically.

  Palmer hung up the phone, satisfied with himself for having, once again, manipulated the press so masterfully.

  ***

  Cathy was eagerly typing away her newest tell-all on Jet Thompson when the message popped up from her publisher. He probably heard about the incriminating story I’m writing, she thought and hurried to his office.

  “You’re fired.”
The words were short and to the point.

  “What the hell?” She was enraged.

  “You’ve been working on Thompson again, after I told you to move on, haven’t you?”

  “Yes, but I’ve got some great stuff. He hired a decoy. She came in on the arm of Palmer Sanders but Jet went home with Palmer and maybe another guy; a big, bald-headed monster. He’s into multiples and likes ‘em big. I’ve got the pics to prove it.”

  “Give me the pics,” he ordered her and she helplessly held out her phone and a flash drive.

  He threw both to the floor and stomped on them. “You’re out of here. I happen to have it on authority that Thompson is straight and the woman was legit. Clear out your things. I’ll include a new phone with your severance pay.”

  Cathy felt the heat of anger coursing through her body. “You’ll be sorry for this,” she said, and then she stormed out of his office.

  ***

  Jet had called and invited Lois to a movie premiere for a movie one of his former co-stars was in. “Dress up pretty, darlin’,” he told her. “Give me an address for the limo.”

  The limo arrived on time and there were a dozen, long-stemmed red roses lying on the back seat as she entered. “Where’s Mr. Thompson?” she asked the driver.

  “We’re picking him up next,” she was informed and she settled back against the luxurious interior. She was wear a deep, forest green sequined gown. The color set off her auburn hair which was piled atop her head. Modest diamond ear studs finished her simple ensemble and she knew she looked stunning.

  Jet agreed. “You’re a knockout tonight,” he said as he climbed into the seat next to her and giving her a kiss. “Now, there will be lots of press here. Keep close and make it look like we just climbed out of bed.”

  Lois nodded, her face flushed as she remembered their previous encounter. Just as he’d predicted, there were cameras everywhere and he held her close as they stood on the red carpet with the movie’s backdrop behind them. There was a widespread murmur of approval when Lois leaned sideways and gave him a passionate kiss, her hand pulling his head down to meet her lips.

  The next morning, the word was out that Jet had a new lady in his life. The rumors of his being gay were squashed and Jet called Palmer. “You did it. You’re the man.”

  “You’re welcome. And… Jezzi…?” he hesitated as he tried to recall the name he’d given Lois.

  “She’s a doll baby.”

  ***

  Jet’s cell rang the next morning. “This is Alexander Wilmott from the Star Gazer,” began the voice on the other end. “I’m calling to apologize formally for insinuating certain situations about your personal life in our content. I hope you won’t hold it against us?”

  “All is forgotten,” Jet quipped and disconnected.

  His next call was to Lois. “Come on over, darlin’. I’ll send a car for you.”

  Lois found Jet waiting for her in his lobby. “Let’s celebrate,” he told her as they went up to his condo. “The press is off my back and it’s due to you. You’re quite the media sweetheart this morning, you know. It will be everywhere by tonight’s evening news,” he raved in a very pleased voice. He sat her down and told her everything that had transpired.

  Lois, on the other hand, wasn’t as ecstatic. She was glad she’d done her job well and she certainly was enjoying Jet’s companionship. There was, however, the little matter of a crazy woman with a vengeance.

  “Jet, that woman came after me. I’m afraid, to tell you the truth…”

  “No, darlin’, you’re not to worry. You’ve got Jet looking after you now. Just sit tight and let me handle things. You’ve made the big lights now, and you’ve got me.”

  Fake Fiancée - Book 2

  Lois Turner turned the key in the lock and threw open the door to her new life. No more shoebox bedroom, no more “just drop me at the corner” excuses and best of all, no more over-protective mother. In her opinion, it was way past about time.

  Her star had risen and his name was Jet Thompson. With his sponsorship, her stepbrother—and owner of the agency through which she worked as a professional escort to the rich and famous—Palmer Sanders, had been persuaded to see the logic in her having her own place from which to entertain.

  Jet, who knew her only as “Jezzi,” had been the catalyst to her new and highly rewarding career. She’d been hired to be his beard—the gal on his arm who would prove the media wrong in their suspicions that he was gay. Their assumption was based on his being almost too handsome to be straight and single when, in fact, he was exactly that.

  Consequently, when she’d reported to Palmer for her next “assignment,” he’d handed her a key and an address, telling her to go explore her “work from home” office. She hoped her star would continue to rise, because a fall would put her back in her childhood bedroom. Now that she had all this, there was no way she could put up with going back to live with her mother in that shitty apartment.

  Lois stood in the entryway and let the apartment unveil itself before her eyes. It was obviously designed for entertaining; its floor to ceiling windows framed the city in a two hundred and seventy-degree variety of portraits. The flooring was polished Brazilian hardwood and there was a balcony deep enough to accommodate its very own lap pool.

  The wall opposite the windows was stone, framing an extra wide fireplace. A set of glass, railed steps rose from the center of the room to the second level, which housed the bedrooms. Lois climbed these slowly, taking in the view of the skyline as she ascended.

  The master bedroom was huge and included a sitting area and another fireplace. Its bath was black marble and featured a massive tub with spa jets in addition to a separate standing shower. A second bedroom and bath lay at the opposite end of that floor and while they weren’t quite as large and extravagant as the master suite, they were still certainly several large steps up from her previous residence.

  Descending, Lois looked toward the dining area that led off the living room. It, too, shared in the windows and she could imagine a candlelit dinner framed by the lighted skyline at night. The gourmet kitchen had the latest in appliances and a separate breakfast nook. Beyond that, a small hallway contained a third guest bathroom and led to the last room in the house. A somewhat cozier room with yet another fireplace that could be used as a den or office. She decided to make it a combination of both.

  Wandering back and forth between the rooms, she noticed a distinct lack of furniture. There were a few pieces but not enough if she was going to be entertaining. She’d have to talk to Palmer about it. Or maybe Jet wouldn’t mind giving her some extra gifts. He’d said he tipped well for people that made him happy. And she was certainly doing that.

  The intercom buzzed and she darted across the apartment to the door, fiddling with the buttons before finally finding the right one. A small screen lit up, showing a man dressed in some type of delivery uniform standing outside her building. “Yes?” she said into the intercom.

  “We have a delivery for a Ms. Lois Turner?”

  “Yes, bring it up,” she responded, wondering what he could be bringing. Her question was soon answered when a knock sounded at her door and she opened it to reveal the man on camera and three others. “What do you have?” she asked curiously.

  The first spoke up, apparently in charge. “I’ve got furniture and food.”

  “I didn’t order anything,” Lois said, alarmed, thinking about the small amount of money she had on her.

  “It’s all been paid for, Miss, by a Mr. Palmer Sanders?”

  Her stepbrother was full of surprises, and apparently he’d thought ahead. Lois nodded and stood back to let the men in. What followed was a steady stream of wrapped and cushioned furniture, boxes, bags, and the addition of a chic young woman with a clipboard whose job it seemed to be to designate where everything went. Lois, having nothing to lose, decided to leave for a while and come back when the commotion was done.

  ***

  “Ms. Turner to see you,
Mr. Palmer,” the assistant announced and he nodded, motioning to bring her in.

  “Hello, Palmer.”

  “Lois…” he acknowledged, barely looking up from the desk.

  “The apartment… the furniture… what can I say?”

  “Say that you’ll use them wisely, sister dear. They are tools of the trade, so to speak.”

  Lois sat down on the other side of his desk. “So, what’s my next assignment?”

  “Get the apartment straightened out and begin researching the attorneys in town. I want you to search for everything you can find on each of them. They’re often looking for stimulating, but discreet, companionship to events their wives won’t attend. I think there’s quite a business there to be had. Read some magazines, learn some lingo… enough to at least be able to understand dinner conversation.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want.”

  Palmer stopped what he was doing. He set the papers he’d been reading through on his desk and leaned forward, looking at her. “Listen, Lois. This business is not about what you or I want. It’s about what the client wants. They are paying for that apartment and your salary, this office and my Mercedes. Be the hostess, the date, the companion he can talk to; but the job stops at the bedroom doorway. You’re not to exchange sexual favors for money. It’s illegal and it’s not what we do. Got it?”

  She nodded and nonchalantly played with a paperweight on his desk.

  “Any other questions?”

  “Yes.” She stood, straightened her clothing and turned to head out the door. “Just one. Why do you have a paperweight when no one works with paper these days?”

  “So, I have a weapon to throw at sassy women!” he shot back, picking it up to mock throw it. Lois, however, was already walking out the door.

  “He’s in an awful mood,” she commented to his assistant on her way out of the office suite. “He’s in there throwing things,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  The assistant’s eyes grew large and she whispered back. “Should I go in?”

  “I wouldn’t.” Lois shook her head. “If fact, I’d go to lunch if it were me!”

 

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