[Escorted 01.0] Escorted

by Claire Kent

  Once again, she had to tell him to come, and she came just before he did, releasing a low moan as her hips rode out her orgasm.

  When he got up to take care of the condom, she pulled up the covers, feeling chilly at his absence.

  She reflected about how strange it was that he always waited for her permission before he came. He was always so in control.

  Although he hadn’t really felt controlled in the elevator tonight.

  She shifted restlessly under the covers, feeling a strange twisting of her belly. The comfortable professionalism of their encounters didn’t feel quite so comfortable anymore.

  Ander returned from the bathroom, wearing his boxers, and he went over to pour two glasses from the bottle of wine she’d ordered from room service.

  He handed her a glass, and then he sat down in one of the chairs to sip his.

  She wondered if it was significant that he didn’t get back in bed with her.

  “I never expected to do it in an elevator,” she said, mostly for something to say.

  He gave her a half smile. He didn’t look tense and coiled anymore. He looked drained. Kind of pale. And really tired. “We were lucky not to get caught. I’ll have to check with security to see if they have us on tape.”

  Lori gulped and covered her mouth with one hand.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it.”

  She wouldn’t be surprised if he had some sort of contact in every important hotel in Seattle. “Thanks.” She paused. And then found the courage to ask, “Are we... are we okay?”

  Ander smiled again. It wasn’t the smile she despised, but it wasn’t that irresistible twitching of his lips either. His smile was slight and half-exhausted. “Yes. Of course.”

  “I didn’t mean to pry into your privacy or anything,” she began, remembering what he’d said in the elevator. “I just—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said again with a dismissive gesture. “We’re fine.”

  Things didn’t feel exactly fine to Lori. There was an odd tension in the air between them that hadn’t existed before. She wasn’t sure if it was coming from her or from Ander or from both of them. But she knew she wasn’t mistaken about it.

  Searching for something casual to say, she rubbed the sore spot on her neck with one hand. “Now I’m probably going to have a bruise again,” she complained, making sure it was clear she was teasing. She craned her neck to see in one of the mirrors. “Thanks a lot.”

  The corner of Ander’s mouth quirked up. “Sorry about that.”

  His expression eased some of the discomfort in her chest. So she sustained the mood. “Don’t be. It was really hot. I wouldn’t have thought I’d like that.”

  “A little pain can go a long way,” he said in the voice he always used to give her advice or instructions.

  “I guess so. I’m not sure I’d want much more than that though,” she added honestly, mulling over memories of her own physical responses to stimulation. Following that train of thought, she asked idly, “I guess some people do though. Do you lose a lot of clients by only doing the romantic thing?” At his questioning look, she explained, “What we talked about last week—about not doing all the S & M stuff.”

  “Oh,” he said with an enlightened look. He shook his head. “No. I don’t think I’ve lost any.”

  Relieved to find a subject—however unusual—that felt more like their normal interaction, Lori pursued it. “So it’s not all that popular?”

  “It depends on what you mean by popular. There’s a small percentage of the population that’s into that lifestyle, but there’s a whole industry built around it. And, in general, those who participate in that lifestyle want to engage in the culture as a whole rather than using the occasional services of someone like me.”

  “Huh.” Lori thought about it for a minute. “If recent erotic romances are to be believed, most women are really into stuff like that.”

  Ander chuckled and shook his head. “But that’s the stuff of fantasies. Most women who get turned on reading about it wouldn’t actually want to live it out. It might turn them on in fantasies, but it wouldn’t in real life. Tell me the truth. What would you do if I tied you up, muzzled you, and started to whip you?”

  Lori thought about all the hot sex scenes she’d read featuring such activities. Then she honestly examined her own nature. She snickered. “I’d have you arrested for assault.”

  He returned her smile. “Exactly. I know I’m making a generalization, and everyone is unique and has their own needs, desires, and expressions of feeling. But in my experience, the majority of women would still rather be genuinely loved than just fucked.”

  For some reason at his final words—as matter-of-fact as they were—she felt a stab of aching knowledge shoot through her heart.

  She didn’t know about the rest of the women in the world, but for her at least his words were true. She would rather have a man she could love and who really loved her than just be fucked, no matter how skillful the man who was doing the fucking.

  She didn’t regret her sessions with Ander, but she finally had to admit to herself that they couldn’t last forever. Already it was starting to feel a little strange to her—as if it wasn’t as impersonal and professional as it should be.

  Now that she had a potential relationship with Phil, was this thing with Ander what she really wanted?

  When she looked back at him, she saw he’d been studying her closely. “Shall we set another appointment?” he asked.

  Put on the spot, Lori was slammed with a wave of confusion. She had no idea what she wanted to do. “Um, I’m not sure what my schedule will be.” That was true. She didn’t know if Phil would ask her out again. “Why don’t I email you and let you know?”

  Ander nodded, no expression on his face. “Sounds good.”

  He showered and dressed after that. And she gave him the cash and walked him to the door like usual. Their goodbye seemed to be more final than usual, and Lori couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever see him again as he walked down the hall, away from her.

  She felt weird. And disturbed. And upset. And kind of sad.

  But she knew she needed to face reality. She couldn’t pursue a serious relationship and fuck a gigolo on the side. Maybe some men did it, but she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  If given the choice, she would rather have a man to love than pay a man to fuck her.

  TWO DAYS LATER, LORI sent a long, rambling, apologetic email to Ander, explaining she would no longer need his services. Phil had asked her out again, and she was going to focus on that for the time being.

  Ander sent her a brief, impersonal reply, saying he’d enjoyed working with her and to keep him in mind for any referrals.

  And that was it. Lori’s inexplicable experiment with a male escort had come to an end.

  She had another date with Phil on Friday night, so at least she could look forward to that.

  Seven

  “HERE’S TO NO MORE ASSHOLES,” Sabrina said, raising her half-drunk bottle of beer in an enthusiastic toast.

  They were both slouched against the couch on the floor of Lori’s living room, an empty pizza box between them. “Here, here!” Lori echoed, clinking her bottle loudly against her cousin’s.

  Lori was on her third beer. She was just starting to get a pleasant buzz, but she frowned as she took another swallow. “He was an asshole, wasn’t he?”

  “Of course,” Sabrina said, picking the remaining cheese off the greasy cardboard and absently putting it in her mouth. “Don’t be stupid. Phil Rothe may be a tiny bit hot, but he’s a world-class asshole and he needs to shave.”

  “Right. I mean, we’d only gone out five times. It wasn’t like I was holding out on him indefinitely. I’m not some frigid bitch.”

  “Of course not. He’s clearly the one with the problem. Talk about assholes. He didn’t get what he wanted soon enough, so he just moved on. He’s not worth worrying about.”

  “I know.” Lori
nodded, firmly believing her cousin’s words. But her frown deepened into a scowl just the same. “I was going to have sex with him. I really was. I just didn’t want to rush into it. It’s not like I left him hanging for months or something.”

  “He’s the asshole,” Sabrina said in full support mode even if that meant repeating herself for an entire evening. “Not you.”

  Lori’s scowl turned into a sneer. “Asshole,” she muttered, picturing Phil’s dark, rugged face.

  A few days ago, Phil had dropped her quite abruptly and quite rudely so he could fuck a twenty-year-old model. While she and Phil hadn’t dated long enough for her heart to be involved, it was humiliating, disappointing, and infuriating.

  With a sigh, she said, “Maybe he thought I was a tease.”

  “Lori,” Sabrina began, an edge of warning in her voice.

  “I know. I didn’t lead him on. But last Friday, we kind of got going and then I made him stop. Maybe he thought—”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass what he thought. You didn’t do anything wrong. You don’t have to give it up just because he wants you to. And you have every right to stop sex at any point, whenever you want and for whatever reason.”

  “I didn’t change my mind in the middle of sex. We were just messing around some on the couch. Still in our clothes and everything. But he was getting into it. And I wasn’t. As much.”

  Sabrina’s expression changed as she set down her empty beer bottle. “Why weren’t you into it?”

  Lori shrugged and tried to articulate her somewhat chaotic feelings. “I don’t know. I liked him—I thought. But when we got going, it just didn’t feel right.”

  “What didn’t feel right about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Lori blushed a little as she made herself admit, “It was all right, I guess. But it wasn’t as good as I’m used to.”

  Sabrina snorted and opened her mouth to respond.

  Lori spoke over her. “I know. I know. I’m not an idiot. I’m not expecting the same level of expertise as I get with a professional. But... I don’t know. It just seemed like Phil was kind of selfish about stuff.”

  “I was afraid of this,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “The truth is that, when it comes to sex, selfishness is pretty typical with guys.”

  “Great. How infinitely comforting.”

  “I don’t mean they’re all jerks. I just mean it’s more common for them to go about sex, focusing on what they want rather than ensuring that you get what you want.” Sabrina shook her head and clicked her tongue. “It’s a sad fact of the world.”

  Lori thought about that for a minute. Then she raised her beer bottle. “Here’s to selfish assholes in bed. May they stay far away from us.”

  Sabrina chuckled and toasted with her empty bottle. “I’ll drink to that. Or I would if I had any beer left.”

  “I’ve got more in the fridge.” Lori got up to get a fresh six-pack out of her refrigerator, and as she returned, she heard a familiar bing that signaled she’d received a new email.

  She ran over and peered at her computer screen. Then exhaled in disappointment when she saw an ad for Viagra with every other word spelled incorrectly.

  She sent the message to her junk mail and returned to Sabrina with the beer.

  “Who are you expecting a message from?” Sabrina asked. “A new guy already?”

  “No. There’s no new guy. I’m not expecting anything.”

  Sabrina narrowed her eyes. “Lori?”

  Lori made a face at her cousin, but there was no use trying to keep it a secret. “I emailed Ander yesterday to see if he’d schedule a new appointment with me.”

  “What? What? What?”

  Embarrassed by the confession and annoyed by Sabrina’s obvious shock, Lori scowled again. “Well, why shouldn’t I? You just got through telling me that most guys are selfish assholes. So why shouldn’t I take the necessary steps to make sure I have good experiences.”

  “No reason,” Sabrina said, holding up her hands in defense at Lori’s vehement tone. “But there are good guys out there. They’re just hard to find.”

  “I know. And eventually I want to find one. But right now I’m annoyed and frustrated and I don’t want to mess with dating again yet. There aren’t any guys I’m interested in at the moment. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t schedule another session with Ander!”

  “As long as you’re not using him as a crutch or secretly hoping for some sort of Pretty Woman scenario.”

  “Sabrina!” Lori snapped. “Would you give that up? I’m not an idiot. I just want to do my own thing for a while. And this is my own thing.”

  Sabrina studied Lori’s expression soberly for a long while. But then she nodded, evidently satisfied with what she saw. “All right. I get it. But I think you’re mostly doing it because you’re pissed.”

  Lori was pissed. With Phil in particular and with men in general. And if she wasn’t so pissed, she might not have found the courage to go back to Ander after the way they’d ended things.

  Another bing from her computer alerted her to a new email. This time, when Lori went over to check, she saw Ander’s name in the From column.

  She exhaled deeply with relief when she saw his response. She’d emailed him yesterday on a random impulse, but when she hadn’t heard back from him as quickly as usual, she’d started to get worried. Maybe he was tired of putting up with her whims. Or, even worse, maybe he was hurt or offended by her dropping his services last month.

  She’d never wanted to hurt his feelings. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t have worried since surely he’d be pleased to get a returning client. But things had been so intense in their last session, and she was still confused about some of it.

  “He says he’s free on Monday.”

  “This Monday?” Sabrina asked. “I thought he was always booked for weeks in advance.”

  “He is.” Lori drew her eyebrows together as she returned to the floor next to Sabrina. It was very strange that he had an available evening so quickly. “He must have had a cancellation.”

  As she opened another beer, planning to get significantly tipsier by the end of the night, Lori felt a twitter in her belly.

  She was excited about seeing Ander again. She’d missed him more than she’d expected, and she kept getting the unprovoked urge to tell him things and hear his response. But she was also nervous.

  For a while she’d thought she’d gotten to know Ander pretty well. She’d thought she had a handle on his personality.

  But their last couple of encounters had taught her that there were depths to Ander she’d never plunged. There were truths hidden in his soul she’d not yet begun to explore.

  And she had no idea what to expect from him on Monday night.

  LORI PULLED ON HER lavender cashmere set after her bath on Monday—the same thing she’d worn to her first engagement with Ander several months ago. The outfit was familiar, and the soft tank and pajama pants were cozy and comfortable.

  But it didn’t soothe the nervous jitters in her belly.

  She was on her second glass of wine when she heard the knock at the hotel room door. She took three deep breaths as she walked over. But then, when she swung the door open, she felt an unexpected flare of warmth at the sight of Ander standing in the doorway. Just as he always had.

  This evening, he wore a charcoal-gray suit and a black shirt without a tie. He was smooth, handsome, and sophisticated. To her infinite relief, he wasn’t smiling that horrible fake smile.

  He wasn’t smiling at all. He just looked at her with an expression of quizzical scrutiny. He was fully composed though. Whatever deep emotion had been eating at him the last time they’d met had been fully reined in and controlled.

  All of which was very reassuring.

  Lori gave him a sheepish smile. “Hi. I changed my mind.”

  The corner of Ander’s mouth gave a tiny twitch. So slight she almost didn’t catch it. “So I see.”

  She let him into the roo
m, and they walked over to the round table next to the window. “I hope that’s all right,” Lori said, perching on the edge of one of the chairs.

  “It’s not a problem for me.” His blue-gray eyes were still scanning her face, as if he were trying to dig something out of her expression.

  “I just feel kind of bad about it. Going back and forth like this.”

  Ander shook his head, his lips giving another twitch. “Do you really think I expect a commitment from my clients? That’s the whole point of using my services.”

  He seemed sincere. There was no trace of angst in his eyes or his expression. In fact, she thought she saw a glint of amusement. It was something she never would have expected.

  She frowned. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Of course not.”

  “I’m not really wishy-washy,” she explained. “My circumstances have changed.”

  “I suppose that means you dumped your boyfriend.”

  Lori gave a little sniff. “He wasn’t my boyfriend. But I would have dumped him, I’m sure.”

  Ander’s eyes widened. “He dumped you?”

  She couldn’t help but experience a quiver of pleasure at the faint astonishment in his voice. It was nice that someone thought she was capable of holding on to a man. “He was an asshole.”

  “Clearly. It was very wise of you to get rid of him as quickly as you did.”

  “Exactly,” Lori said with a resolute nod.

  Ander’s mouth twitched again.

  So did Lori’s.

  As simple as that, they fell back into their comfortable, companionable interaction. She’d been horribly afraid that tonight would be awkward or uncomfortable. Or tense and confrontational like their conversation in the elevator.

  But it was like nothing had happened between them at all.

  Contrarily, a tiny part of Lori missed the intensity coiled inside Ander after the fund-raiser last month. Missed the urgency with which he’d looked at her, touched her, fucked her.