Undertow: Big D!ck Escort Service

by Willow Summers

  “—and we’re being rude,” Janie continued, undaunted. “Kaylee, you were telling us about what you do. It sounded high-powered. You’re going for a VP position, right? Because that’s the big time. I wish I had the brainpower for that.”

  “You do, it’s just scrambled with your learning issues.” Dave pointed at Kaylee. “Janie, are you on drink duty or should we do beers? Because that woman’s hand is empty, and after Hurricane Martha blew through this place, that is bad news.”

  “We definitely need something stronger than beers.” Janie headed to the fridge.

  One by one, the people in the room fell silent until they were all staring at Kaylee like baby birds. The spit dried up in her mouth and thoughts fled. Her awkwardness in these types of social situations was really something. Teamed with the fact that the people she’d met previously in Sacramento had all been work associates, and conversations were mostly stuffy, she was completely tongue-tied and out of her depth. A real oddball. More so than usual.

  A large, warm hand covered the area between her shoulder blades, Ethan lending his support. Electricity surged through her body, and she had the sudden urge to lean back to deepen the contact.

  Marshaling her logic, since, despite what he’d said earlier, this wasn’t an actual date, she stayed put. Ignoring the hum of fire in her middle was a little harder.

  She cleared her throat. “My goal is to secure the VP role, kick ass for a couple years, and then move to a COO position in a larger company.”

  “C-O-O?” Janie asked as she set up a bunch of ingredients on the island.

  “Chief operating officer,” Madison supplied, staring at Janie in a highly focused way. “Your company doesn’t have one, then?”

  “No. Whether or not we need one is up for debate, but if I get the VP position, I’m not going to push for one. Instead, I want to take over those tasks myself so I look better on paper.”

  Madison nodded thoughtfully, her bearing straight, confidence radiating from her. “Smart. You’re well on your way, I can tell.”

  “Do you like what you do?” Noah asked Kaylee.

  Kaylee paused. “Truthfully, I hate the company. The guys that run it are…not my kind of people. I’d rather move on, but I need more experience. We don’t always love what we do. That’s why it’s called work.”

  “I hear that. Half the time I hate what I do.” Janie added various ingredients to a silver shaker.

  “Aren’t you an artist?” Kaylee asked.

  “Yeah. But I hate people seeing my art.”

  “Ah. Yes, that would…suck.” Kaylee lightly drummed her fingers on the island, not sure what else to say. She’d never heard of an artist who didn’t want people to see her work.

  She’d also only heard of a few artists who actually made money.

  Both things she didn’t plan to mention.

  “Okay, let’s move on to more important things.” Madison put her hands on her hips.

  “Here we go.” Colton peeled away with a grin.

  “How the hell can you walk in those shoes? The heels are…like”—she held up her thumb and forefinger—“super skinny!”

  “She’s not clumsy, clearly.” Janie pointedly stared at Madison. To Kaylee, she said, “Madison can’t walk three feet in three-inch heels without falling over something. It’s a problem.”

  “You will never convince me that it’s natural for women to walk in stilts.” Madison lifted her chin in defiance of Janie, before melting and offering Kaylee an apologetic smile. “No offense.”

  “No offense? You just called the woman a clown.” Ethan laughed.

  “Kick his ass, Seabass! Anyway, she stole that line off a female scientist,” Janie said dryly, fixing the lid onto the shaker and holding it out. Ethan reached over the island and took it. Janie met Kaylee’s gaze and pointed at Ethan. “You’ll want to watch that.”

  “Speaking of stolen lines, you stole that one from Dumb and Dumber,” Madison accused.

  “Great movie,” Dave said.

  Janie pointed at Ethan again, her gaze serious. “You will want to watch that.”

  In confusion, Kaylee turned as Ethan took off his jacket, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung gloriously to his pecs. He raised the shaker with a smile and started to shake. Kaylee’s gaze immediately found the bulging biceps straining his shirt. The movements, clean yet powerful, made the action look hot and manly and suave all at the same time.

  His hooded eyes—bedroom eyes—connected with hers, hinting at steamy nights and satin sheets. His confidence, and the sheer masculinity he exuded, coated her like a thick, hot blanket.

  Her core tightened and her belly flip-flopped. This man was so damn sexy that she had to clasp her hands together to keep from reaching out to him.

  “Told ya.” Janie walked away, headed for the cabinets, probably to get glasses.

  “I just don’t see why men don’t have to wear heels, that’s all.” Madison’s lips tightened. “I mean, we have to shave most of our bodies, deal with periods, worry about always being pretty with hair and makeup and—”

  “Do I look like I give a damn about being pretty?” Janie ran her hand in front of her face.

  “I don’t care about being pretty. I care about kicking ass.”

  The words were out of Kaylee’s mouth before she was even aware of thinking them. If they’d been attached to a string, she would’ve reeled them back in.

  Wincing, she waited for another awkward silence to descend.

  To her surprise, Madison nodded and pointed. “Exactly! I look like shit when I go to work. Do I care? No. Why? Because I’m concerned about achieving, not how much people want to fuck me.”

  “Whoa, whoa.” Dave threw up his hands. “That is too much girl hate. I just got scared.”

  “Someone sneezes and you get scared.” Noah reached up for a tumbler that Janie couldn’t reach.

  “In this crew? Yes.” Dave nodded empathically and flinched away from Janie, pretending she was going to backhand him.

  “So…” Noah crossed his arms, making his arms bulge. All these guys had stellar bodies. Every last one of them. “The girls don’t care about being pretty, and the guys sell their looks. I think we’ve found ourselves in the Twilight Zone.”

  “Yeah. So make the guys wear heels.” Madison stared at the unglazed cream puffs, indecision in her expression.

  “You’re really hung up on the heels.” Janie shook her head at her friend. “Can you imagine Ethan wearing four-inch stilettos? The guy would be, like, seven feet tall.”

  “It is clear that math isn’t your strong suit.” Madison frowned at Janie, not taking a puff.

  “Hello? I was being rhetorical.”

  “And neither is English.”

  “Do you know what is my strong suit?” Janie held up a fist. “A fat lip. I’ll give those out all day long. Just let me know.” Janie poured a clear drink into three tumblers. “Who wants one?”

  “A fat lip, or a drink?” Noah asked.

  “Drink, dummy.” Janie straightened up.

  Everyone raised their hands or called out.

  Janie sighed dramatically and started making more.

  “Okay, I think we’re ready for the brash tacks.” Dave moved toward the island.

  “You still have that saying wrong.” Madison gave Kaylee a drink before taking one for herself and sitting on the stool next to her.

  “Whatever.” Dave looked at Ethan, then his gaze flicked to Kaylee. “Bro, we have a…delicate question for you. Relating to our earlier discussion in the gym. Is now an okay time?”

  Kaylee looked back and saw a smile creep up Ethan’s face. “You want me to pose,” he said. “I’m in.”

  “I told you he was that weird,” Dave said to Janie. “Look, here’s the thing. Janie is willing to paint someone she knows, clothed or not. So why not take Creepy Rich Guy up on his offer?”

  Janie’s face fell and she hunched a little. What she’d said earlier was clearly true—she did
n’t like certain aspects of her job.

  Suddenly Kaylee didn’t feel so much like an outsider. Not only did she have things in common with these women, but they didn’t try to pose or pretend. They had issues and were open about it. It was reassuring. It spoke of no judgments and open minds.

  “Colton has bowed out because…” Dave hesitated.

  “It’s awkward, is what it is,” Janie muttered. “He’s my bestie’s dude. Hard no.”

  “Right.” Dave nodded. “So that leaves you and Noah.”

  “I said I’d do it, but…don’t really want to.” Noah shrugged. “Just nude, sure, but getting hard for a bro’s girlfriend, with Dave in the room, is…”

  “It’s weird.” Janie did a shrug-nod with a very dry, unimpressed expression. “That’s what it is. It’s fucking weird. And you’re the weirdest person I know, Ethan, so if you can get over the oddity, then I can too.”

  “Wait.” Kaylee looked around at all of their faces before stopping on Janie. “You’re going to paint a nude portrait of Ethan, while he’s…turned on, in front of your boyfriend, for…another man?”

  “Welcome to the shit show, Kaylee,” Janie said. “Drink up—it only gets worse.”

  It didn’t get worse from there, or weirder, but as Kaylee listened to them talk about a future art show, and the business and marketing side of it, she found herself more engaged than she’d ever been in a kitchen amidst a bunch of strangers.

  Actually, she was more comfortable with them than she’d ever been in a friend’s kitchen, chatting and laughing. Ethan’s friends were so down to earth and quick to laugh. They made fun of each other out of love, and got involved in each other’s lives. It was really interesting. And inspiring. She needed to find some friends like that.

  As the clock struck eleven and fatigue from the day settled over her, she swung her legs around the stool and stood. “Okay, everyone.”

  Noah and Dave stopped shadow-boxing in the corner and straightened up, looking over. Ethan stepped to the side, his hand held out and behind her, probably in case she fell over backward. Janie’s drinks had been delicious, as promised, but strong.

  “You’re calling it a day?” Janie asked, reclined on the island counter. Why the group didn’t just move to a room with more seats, or bring in seats, Kaylee didn’t know.

  “Yes. I need to get up early and do yoga tomorrow.” Kaylee picked her phone up off the counter.

  Janie brightened. “I love yoga.”

  “Oh really?” Kaylee considered clicking into her Lyft app before glancing back up. It was only two blocks, but she was feeling remarkably lazy. “Where do you go?”

  “I don’t. I do it on my own.”

  “Wow.” Kaylee looked at all the little cartoon cars on her screen, each at least fifteen minutes away. She lowered the phone again. “I don’t think I’d have the discipline to push myself. Also, I’m not good enough to do it on my own.”

  “Would you like me to drive you home?” Ethan asked softly, dropping to lean against the counter on his elbow, another position that shouldn’t have been comfortable given his height and the way his body was twisted…yet he made it look super relaxed.

  “You’ve been drinking. I’m fine.” She slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder.

  “I had two drinks in all this time, in case you needed a ride. I’m good to drive.”

  “You’ll be safe.” Madison nodded in assurance. “He only seems creepy. He’s not really.”

  “Or one of us can drive you home.” Dave pointed around at the guys. “Who’s sober?”

  Everyone looked at someone else.

  “Never mind,” Dave said.

  “It’s fine.” Kaylee stepped over Ethan’s feet. “I can make my way. I actually live pretty close to here.”

  “Oh really?” Dave whistled. “You must make bank, girlfriend. Good for you!”

  “Way to make things awkward,” Madison muttered.

  “What?” Dave asked.

  “Thanks again,” Kaylee said, edging out of the kitchen. “This turned out not to be a horrible surprise after all.”

  Ethan raised his arms. “For the win.”

  “One in eight doesn’t make you God, you ignoramus,” Janie said, now cuddling into Dave’s arms.

  “Two in eight. You hated that interview with the art critic, but look at how well that turned out,” Ethan responded.

  Janie’s expression darkened. “Fine, two in eight, even though that critic thing was still terrible. Bye, Kaylee—hope the cream puff made up for Colton’s mom.”

  “Hardly,” Colton said dryly.

  “See ya. Thanks again.” Kaylee headed out of the kitchen with Ethan in tow. A chorus of byes followed her.

  Ethan opened the front door and pulled it wide, waiting for her to exit. She hesitated on the front walk. It wasn’t a real date, no. And he was still a stranger. But something in her didn’t want to say goodbye. She didn’t want to just walk away from him.

  “So anyway,” she said quietly, turning toward him as he shut the door. Ethan hadn’t turned on the front light, and the night enveloped them. His proximity fanned the fire within her. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in his scent, masculine and earthy. Comfortable and intoxicating, both.

  “I’ll walk you home,” he said quietly. His arm brushed against hers, sending zips of electricity through her.

  “Drive me,” she said without meaning to, her voice husky and full of need. “Drive me. It’ll be quicker.”

  “If you’d like.” His hand slid down her back, spreading heat through her body that then pooled in her core. His touch settled on her lower back, and he guided her down the front walk and to his car. “I’m glad you let me bring you here tonight.”

  “I’m glad you’re as weird as everyone says you are. Only a complete psychopath would have brought me here.” She laughed as they stopped by the car, and again she didn’t want to turn away from him. She didn’t want to increase the small distance between them.

  “It’s more fun to do the unexpected.” He ran a thumb along her jaw. “You are very beautiful, Kaylee. Though I suspect you’d rather be told that you’re fierce. Which is also true.”

  Her smile came from her toes. They’d just met, and still he got her, like few other men had. “Exactly, yes. I’m concerned about being valued for my achievements, which I’ve earned, and not my appearance, which I was given.”

  “My mother would’ve raved over you.” His sweet breath dusted her face. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” He opened the door for her before circling around to the driver’s side.

  “Where do you live?” he asked as they pulled away from the curb.

  She gave him directions while fighting to keep from reaching over and resting her hand on his muscular thigh. Desire such as she’d never experienced rolled through her in waves. Sweat broke out on her brow. Her body was hijacking her mind.

  “Just here,” she said in a voice she barely recognized.

  He was a prostitute, she’d hired him, and this wasn’t even a first date. There was no way she should invite him in. No way she should tear his clothes off and lose herself in his hard body. It would be a one-night stand, and that wasn’t her style. But oh man, she wanted to do all of those things. Extremely taboo and possibly morally corrupt though it might be, she really wanted to have him stay the night. To make love to her into the small hours of the morning.

  “Here we go,” Ethan said as he opened her door and helped her out.

  “You’re such a gentleman,” she said, brushing her side against his as his arm fell around her shoulders.

  “I believe that if you want to be respected, you need to treat others with respect. Opening doors and helping women in stilts is an easy way to do that.”

  She laughed as they ambled up the front walk. Her head buzzed, fuzzy from the alcohol. Her body buzzed, fuzzy from Ethan.

  “I no longer want a do-over,” she whispered as they neared her front door. The motion sensor clic
ked on, showering them in light. She squinted before staggering, her balance off. His arm tightened its grip, keeping her upright, pulling her tightly against his rock-solid body.

  Her core tightened. Her breath came heavy. She wanted him inside of her so bad. So, so bad.

  Barely able to think, she hurried toward her front door. When he let go of her, she staggered a little, catching herself with an outstretched hand on the wood.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern and something else in his voice. Was it desire to match her own?

  I hope so.

  “I’m good,” she said, jabbing her key at the lock. The tip bounced off the metal. Oops. She tried again, knocking the key against the metal before dragging it toward the keyhole. A scrape appeared on the lock face and the key looped around the top. She’d somehow missed it again.

  “Do you need help?” he asked.

  She looked like a fool! She wasn’t handling the alcohol as well as she would’ve liked. It was embarrassing.

  “Great. Just can’t see very well… Shadows.” She closed an eye to straighten out the image in front of her and tried again, scraping the key toward the keyhole.

  “Bingo,” she murmured, fitting the key into the lock and turning. The deadbolt clicked over. She shoved open the door and turned around.

  Ethan stood near the edge of the cement porch, close to the step, with his hands in his pockets and his sexy bedroom eyes drilling into her. “You made it.”

  “I did,” she purred, closing the distance. Heat and fire and electricity sizzled through her. “I want you, Ethan.”

  She looped her arms around his neck and pulled his head down, capturing his lips. The heat in her body cranked up, singeing her from the inside out. A delicious tightness settled between her thighs.

  His hands came around her in a rush, as though he couldn’t help himself, crushing her to him. His hard length pushed against her stomach. She opened her mouth to him and he accepted her invitation, plunging his tongue in and swirling it with hers.

  “Yes,” she moaned, backing up and trying to drag him with her. She didn’t care if this was wrong. Or that they’d only met because she’d hired him. She didn’t care about anything but him in her bed, thrusting into her body.