[Escorted 01.0] Escorted

by Claire Kent

  “Oh God,” she gasped, clawing at his neck and shoulders. She couldn’t stop, even though she knew she was leaving angry scratches on his skin.

  He grunted, and she read it as a question

  “Coming again.” Her body tightened up, and she tried to breathe as he’d taught her to. She couldn’t even begin to take a full breath.

  She managed to wrap her legs around him, squeezing him with her arms and her legs. Her orgasm was on the edge of cresting, and Ander’s hot, shuddering, urgent body felt delicious against hers.

  She cried out breathlessly as the tension broke inside her, and Ander let go at the same time. As she rode out the waves of pleasure, she was conscious of Ander releasing a loud, guttural sound, just at her ear. His hips jerked, and his body seemed to pulse as his own climax ripped through him.

  She collapsed back onto the bed with Ander on top of her. She was soaked with sweat and shaky with fatigue and an overload of sensation. Her eyes, throat, and lungs burned, and she was sore from his cock and the stretching of her stomach muscles.

  Her intimate flesh felt swollen and still throbbed with achy pleasure.

  “Oh God,” she gasped. She stroked the skin she’d scratched on Ander’s neck, shoulders, and back. “Oh God.”

  Ander grunted, breathing damply and very fast against the crook of her neck.

  “Oh God, that was good,” she said. His body was still radiating heat, but it had softened lusciously with the release of so much tension. When he didn’t answer, she added, “You all right?”

  “Yes.” He straightened his arms, pulling himself off her. Then he held the condom in place as he pulled his cock out with a slurping sound. “I’ll be right back.”

  Once again, he went to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. And once again, she heard the water running and thought he was gone longer than usual.

  When he finally came back, he didn’t get back into bed. She was a little disappointed since they still had more than a half hour left of the evening. Not that she could take any more sex tonight, but she always enjoyed their chats afterward.

  She knew Ander well enough by now to know that he was ready to leave. Not that he’d ever say so. She had paid until midnight. But she understood the question in his eyes as he stood looking down at her.

  She was actually a little hurt. She’d had amazing sex—mind-blowing sex—and now he couldn’t wait to get away from her.

  Maybe he was tired though. Maybe he’d had a bad day. She liked and respected him too much to make him stay just because she technically had another half hour of bought time.

  With a smile, she said, “You can take a shower if you want. I’ve had all I can handle tonight.”

  He thanked her and retreated to the bathroom with his clothes.

  Lori sighed and told herself to be reasonable. There was no reason to have her feelings hurt. This was business to him. While she was convinced he’d enjoyed the sex, there was no reason for him to linger afterward, just because she felt like reflecting on how good it had been.

  By the time he came out again—cool, composed, and fully dressed—she felt good again. She’d had two rounds of amazing sex and quite a few powerful orgasms. She definitely needed a shower to cool off and wash up, but after that she’d be able to enjoy the aftermath of her climaxes and have a long night’s sleep in a cozy bed.

  And tomorrow was Saturday. She could get settled again at home and hang out with Sabrina.

  Plus she had a lunch date on Wednesday and another date next Saturday with a handsome, eligible man. The fund-raiser should be fun—with a lot of affluent, important people to mingle with and have fun taunting. She’d have to go shopping with Sabrina to find herself a new, sexy dress. Phil Rothe really was gorgeous. With all the practice and experience she’d had recently, she wouldn’t even be self-conscious or scared about sex, so there was finally the potential to get serious about a man.

  She had nothing to complain about.

  When she got out of bed, she stumbled at a jolt of sharp pain between her legs.

  “All right?” Ander asked, eyeing her with concern.

  “Sore,” she admitted. “We had a lot of sex this evening.”

  He chuckled, and she was relieved to see he looked relaxed again. “We did.”

  “It was really good,” she told him, sliding the envelope of money over to him. “I’m not sure what got into me.”

  His gaze was careful and observant, although he still smiled as he slipped the cash into his pocket uncounted. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I was... was like an animal.” She blushed as she thought about her shamelessness. “I hope I didn’t scratch you too much.”

  “You didn’t.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “I think the animal suits you well.”

  His comment was clever and flippant, but it made her blush again. This time from pleasure.

  “So we’re on for a week from Monday?”

  “Yes,” he said as he packed up his case. “I have you scheduled.”

  “Good. I’m looking forward to it.” She walked him to the door and leaned against it as he left the room. “Have a good week.”

  “You too.”

  As Lori watched Ander walk down the hall toward the elevator, she had to ask herself what she was more looking forward to: her first date with an eligible man she could possibly have a future with or her next engagement with Ander.

  Six

  “I’M TELLING YOU,” LORI insisted, trying so hard not to laugh she almost slopped her champagne. “He wasn’t leering at my cleavage.”

  Phil Rothe—lean, dark, sexy, and rugged with his five-o’clock shadow and deeply tanned face—gave her a rakish grin. “Deny it all you want. I know where his eyes were lingering. And it wasn’t on your necklace. And he perked up even more when I told him you wrote sexy romances under a pen name.”

  Lori moved an unconscious hand to her jade pendant on a gold chain she’d paired with her deep green evening gown. “Phil, he’s about a hundred years old! And the chair of the museum board!”

  “Even prestigious museum boards boast pervy old men,” Phil murmured, moving an arm around her waist as they strolled out of the elegant ballroom, clustered with well-dressed, affluent guests, and into the wide hallway that led to rooms with the artwork being showcased tonight. “He was definitely sneaking a peek at your cleavage. And since you chose to wear that dress, I can hardly be surprised.”

  Sniffing disdainfully, Lori gave him a pseudo-cool look. She and Phil had gone to lunch a few days ago and had a great time. So far their date to the museum fund-raiser was a success as well. Phil was smart, funny, and handsome, and she liked his blunt manner and quick humor. She even liked his books. “This dress shows only a perfectly respectable amount of cleavage.”

  Phil’s eyes lingered obviously at the deep crease and shadow at the neckline of her gown. While it wasn’t so revealing as to be crude, the dress was sexier than anything she’d ever owned before. He lifted his dark eyebrows and drawled, “Yeah.”

  She chuckled and came to a stop in the middle of the hallway, next to a huge mirror with an elaborate, gilded frame. A quick glance in the mirror showed her to be looking quite nice this evening, with upswept hair and more makeup than she usually wore. She twisted her neck slightly to make sure there was no longer any hint of a bruise from where Ander had bit her the week before.

  She was a little surprised that Ander hadn’t asked permission before he’d marked her, but she hadn’t minded the bruise, really. It evoked very pleasurable memories. She was glad it had faded in time for this evening though.

  She slanted a teasing look over at Phil. “Obviously, elderly chairmen of museum boards don’t hold exclusive rights to perviness.”

  Phil took a step closer to her. “Who exactly did you have in mind?”

  Feeling a little thrill of excitement at his obvious attraction, Lori took a step back. “I had in mind a certain younger, smug lawyer who has recently taken a turn at being a writ
er.”

  With a low laugh, Phil pushed her gently against the wall in the hallway. Most of the guests were still in the ballroom, where the welcoming address had just been made. “Guilty as charged,” he said in a gruff voice.

  Then he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

  Lori didn’t have much experience, but she suspected that Phil was a very good kisser. His mouth moved with ease and confidence against hers as he gently licked the line of her lips.

  He’d kissed her very briefly after their lunch date on Wednesday, but this kiss quickly became something else. She opened for him unconsciously and wrapped her arms around his neck while he pressed the hard line of his body against hers.

  They kissed for longer and deeper than was probably wise in the middle of a hall at a stuffy museum fund-raiser. While Lori didn’t feel any urgent sexual desire, she was jittery and breathless when she heard voices at the other end of the hall and pulled away.

  An older man and woman promenaded through the hall, giving the flushed couple still entwined against the wall a very disapproving look.

  Lori stifled a giggle and shared a guilty look with Phil, who still had one hand at her waist and the other cupping the back of her head.

  Then her eyes drifted toward the ballroom again, to see who else had spotted her in such a disgraceful position.

  Her giggle died a sudden death.

  Ander stood about halfway down the hall, frozen in place, staring at her with a blank intensity that took her breath away. He held two glasses of champagne in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on her face.

  Lori froze too, feeling like a weight of shock and disorientation had slammed into her from above. She’d done a really good job of compartmentalizing her sessions with Ander—allowing them to have nothing to do with the rest of her life, enjoying them as one would a harmless indulgence.

  But the barriers between her interactions with him and the rest of her life had been abruptly, brutally ripped away.

  She was on a date with Phil. A good date. Something she hadn’t experienced in a really long time. And she had fucked Ander exactly a week ago in a plush hotel room. Fucked him twice. He’d made her come over and over again. She had paid him at the end of the night.

  And both men were now in the same hallway.

  Her cheeks burned so hotly she knew her skin had flamed. She shifted restlessly until Phil dropped his arms and stepped back. He was looking over at Ander curiously. “A friend of yours?”

  Lori had absolutely no idea what to say.

  She was saved from answering by the arrival of the woman who must be Ander’s date for the evening. Lori had met Sarah Jacoby a few times in the past. They weren’t friends, but they had done some work together in New York for a national charity that raised money for local literacy programs.

  Sarah was in her midthirties and had recently gotten divorced from a New York business mogul. She must be visiting Seattle this weekend.

  She’d obviously found a painless way of getting a date for the fund-raiser.

  “Michael,” Sarah said, hurrying over to take Ander’s arms. “Sorry. I got waylaid by Amelia Bernard.” She glanced over toward Lori and Phil. “Lori! How nice to see you again. I saw you earlier across the room but couldn’t say hi.”

  Lori steeled herself, took Phil’s hand, and led him over to the other couple. “Hi, Sarah. Getting bored with New York?”

  Sarah flashed a dimple. She was Lori’s height but about twenty pounds heavier and ten years older. She wasn’t unattractive, with curly dark hair and a cherubic face. “Actually, just trying to annoy the ex by maintaining the position on the museum board that he pulled strings for me to get. He thought I would just slink away after the divorce. Silly man. This is my date. Michael Blakely.”

  Lori shook hands with the man she knew as Ander Lourdes. She supposed he probably used whatever name his date wanted him to use when he escorted a woman to a social event. “Lori Addison. This is Phil Rothe.”

  Although Ander had obviously been taken by surprise at the sight of her tonight, he’d recovered with remarkable composure. His expression was cool and neutral as he shook hands with Phil and they made some innocuous small talk.

  Lori was relieved that her voice was natural and friendly, although she was horribly distracted by the way Ander kept his arm around Sarah’s waist, his fingers occasionally giving a little caress.

  Finally Sarah said, “I guess we should go check out some of that art.” She smiled besottedly up at Ander. “You’ll have to explain it to me, I’m afraid.”

  “I’ll be happy to,” he murmured, his eyes resting on her face in such a way that Lori could have sworn he was in love with the woman. Then, in a voice she could barely hear, he added to Sarah, “Although no piece of art on the wall could be as exquisite as you.”

  Lori almost gagged.

  He was doing his job. Playing a part. This was what his services entailed. Acting the romantic escort, making a woman feel like she was the most important person in the world, whether or not the evening ended with sex.

  She managed to mumble out a farewell as Sarah and Ander walked on. She’d known—she’d known—that this was what Ander did. He was a male escort. Among other things, he fucked women for money. She was hardly his only client. He had a very busy schedule.

  It was just that knowing was different than seeing.

  “Ex-boyfriend?” Phil asked, studying her face.

  Lori couldn’t possibly tell him the truth—not on a second date—so she accepted this as the easiest of excuses for her reaction. “Yeah. Something like that.”

  “Maybe you’ll tell me about him sometime,” Phil murmured, slipping his hand around her waist as they strolled more slowly toward the galleries.

  She shot him a sharp look.

  “I’m not blind, you know,” he explained, giving her a little smile. “You could cut the intensity between the two of you with a knife. But there’s no hurry. We have lots of time.”

  Her smile up at him was genuine—made up of relief and affection. What a great guy he was. “Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.”

  She thought she’d gotten over the worst of the hurdles in her initial encounter with Ander. But she kept seeing him and Sarah for the rest of the evening. And Ander always seemed to be whispering intimately into her ear or stroking her back or discreetly holding her hand.

  And the truth was it bugged Lori. A lot. However irrational, her encounters with Ander had felt isolated, cocooned, cut off from the rest of the world. They’d been special to her. Not because she thought they shared romance or a real emotional connection. But because she’d learned so much about herself and about human nature from her interactions with him. Plus she’d just simply enjoyed it.

  And seeing him at his job with another woman made the whole thing feel... tawdry.

  Maybe it was.

  TWO DAYS LATER, LORI arrived at the familiar hotel room a little later than normal. She had just enough time to bathe, shave, apply lotion, and dress before seven o’clock.

  She’d seriously considered canceling. All day yesterday, she’d begun to compose an apologetic email to Ander, saying she didn’t need his services anymore. She just wasn’t sure she could continue as they had after being slapped in the face with reality on Saturday night.

  Plus Phil had asked her out again. Obviously, things were just at the beginning—casual and nonexclusive—but she felt like they had some potential, and paying for sex on the side seemed like it might not be the best way to begin a relationship.

  Lori had finally decided to keep her engagement with Ander, mostly because she felt bad about backing out at the last minute. She genuinely liked Ander, and it felt kind of heartless to blow him off with an email after they’d had such a long-standing professional relationship. She’d give it a try. If things felt weird or uncomfortable, she just wouldn’t schedule another appointment.

  She was just putting on the little cashmere cardigan—a weave so fine it was almost transpare
nt—over her dark blue silk lounge set when she heard the knock at the door.

  As she swung open the door with a smile of greeting, she was greeted to a sight that was like a kick in the gut.

  Ander stood—as cool and handsome as always in all black. On his face was a practiced smile. Urbane and sensual and so fake Lori wanted to scratch it from his skin.

  Definitely not a propitious beginning.

  “Hi,” she said, stepping aside to let him into the room.

  Ander murmured a greeting, and she followed him to the table where he always left his case. The ubiquitous envelope of cash was lying on the table as usual.

  Feeling more awkward than she had since the first couple of engagements, Lori lowered herself into a chair. Figuring they might as well get it out in the open, she said, “So it was kind of weird, huh?”

  Ander seated himself in the other chair and arched his eyebrows at her coolly. She wasn’t a big fan of that expression either.

  “Seeing each other on Saturday,” she said in response to his silent question. “Wasn’t it kind of weird?”

  “I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. You handled it fine.”

  Lori’s jaw dropped slightly as she stared at Ander. She hadn’t thought the discomfort had only been on her side. He was definitely acting prickly tonight. Not at all like his normal self. “You didn’t find it a little weird too?”

  Ander’s eyes were bland and unrevealing. “No. Not really. But I’ve had years of experience in this. I can understand why it might be awkward for you. In fact, I wondered if you might cancel our engagement tonight.”

  She swallowed, knowing how close she’d come to doing just that. It was a little unnerving to learn that their encounter at the fund-raiser hadn’t bothered Ander at all. She knew it had surprised him. His expression had revealed at least that, but apparently, it hadn’t affected him otherwise.

  She was determined to not pretend anything, not add any other layer of unnaturalness to her relationship with Ander. “I thought about it. A lot. It just seemed kind of... I don’t know. It would have made me feel shitty.”