Strictly Research (Bad Boy MFM Romance)

by Terry Towers

  My head was swimming with questions for him. When he’d mentioned the idea of writing a book, it sounded like a brilliant idea. I know he’d said it in jest, but it was still brilliant. Ideas, so many ideas were coming to mind I found myself missing much of what he was saying as we walked into the wax museum, which is a hard feat, considering the effect he had on me. The thing is that, to a writer an idea is golden and can develop so rapidly in our minds that it becomes impossible to think of anything else.

  I wanted my laptop. Almost as much as I wanted the beautiful man standing beside in line to enter the museum.

  But could I really write a book based on him? That would be wrong on so many levels, unless I had his permission, and even then, it would still feel wrong.

  “Monica, baby.”

  “Huh?” I followed his gaze and cringed when I saw the woman behind the counter waving us to her. Ooopise.

  I proceeded to the counter and was about to pull my wallet out of my purse when Mitchel placed a hand on my arm, stopping me. “I got this.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but didn’t. Instead, I opted for giving him a simple nod and uttering “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “Smile for your picture.” As the young, female photographer’s direction we were stopped and posed in front of a wax version of Lady Gaga. He had one arm around me and the other around Gaga. I hated pictures of myself, absolutely hated. No matter how confident I was, they never seemed to turn out well when I actually saw them, I’m sure this one would be no different.

  “We’re good.” Mitchell said, stepping away from the wax figure and slipping his hand down from my shoulders and to my surprise grabbing my hand instead.

  “Here’s your ticket, you can view your photo at the exit of the museum. Have a great time.”

  Without hesitation, he led me into the first room.

  “You’ve been here before.” It was more of a statement of fact than question.

  “Couple times.” He looked down at me and smiled. “Closest I’ll ever get to being face to face with Madonna and Oprah.

  I returned his smile and laughed. “So you take all your dates to the wax museum?” I inwardly cringed. Shit, did that just make me sound like a jealous girlfriend? I hoped not.

  “I don’t date, so no.” His smile didn’t fade, in fact, I’m sure I saw amusement dancing in his eyes. He gave my hand a tug. “Come on.”

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  “I really don’t want to,” I protested.

  “Oh, come on.”

  I looked down at the microphones with apprehension. “I’m not a singer. I don’t do karaoke.”

  “It’s not really karaoke.” He motioned around us. “There’s not even anyone here to hear us.”

  “You’ll hear me.”

  He gave his head a shake. “And you think I’ll judge you for your horrible singing voice?”

  I shrugged. Something like that.

  He passed me a microphone and put on a song. “Humour me. I promise, I won’t listen.”

  “Liar.” Not like he had a choice. Anyone who came in the room would be forced to put up with the screeching of my voice, but I gave in accepting the offered microphone. My face burned from embarrassment as I sang the words as the little ball bounced over them.

  He had a fantastic voice, deep with a bit of grit to it, it overpowered mine and I was fine with that—grateful for that even. By the time we were finished the song a wave of relief washed over me. I was so relieved I actually laughed—in truth it was more like a nervous giggle than anything else. It hadn’t been as bad as I had expected, but still mortifying nonetheless. I was glad it was over.

  “See, wasn’t so bad! And you had a little fun with it. You’re even laughing.”

  “It’s nervous laughter,” I informed him, placing the microphone on the DJ counter. Who in the hell put a karaoke machine in a wax museum anyhow? But then again, we were in the music legends section. We’d taken lots of pictures with the celebrity images of people such as Michael Jackson and Jimmy Hendrix. While I’d stated off serious and still, we were over halfway through the museum, and I was finding myself laughing and having fun with the props.

  “Ohh, wax hands.”

  “Huh?” Sure enough, ahead of us was a counter with an attendant offering us a chance to have our hands preserved in wax. “Umm. Wax hands, really?” I leaned into him lowering my voice. “Isn’t this kinda for kids?”

  “It’ll be fun.” Before I could reply, he was telling the girl we wanted to get it done, and before I knew what was happening, he was lacing his fingers with mine, and our clasped hands were being dunked into the wax.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Mitchell

  How do you know you’ve met someone really special? I suppose there’s a slew of answers, depending on who you ask. In my twenty-eight years of life, I think I’ve figured it out, at least for myself. To me, you’ve found someone special when you’re willing to put yourself out there and do things that you normally wouldn’t do, just to see that other person smile. You close your eyes, take in a deep breath, and take that leap of faith, opening your heart, mind, and soul, allowing them to see everything there is see about you: good, bad, and ugly. And believe me, I had a fucking lot of ugly in my past. I loved seeing her smile, felt elated when she laughed. I couldn’t get enough of it. I didn’t even know this woman, but there was something deep and raw within me urging me to take that leap.

  Now let me explain one thing. I’m not a hopeless romantic. More of a hardcore realist; you have to be, in my line of work. Those who do what I do and can’t cope find ways to escape reality, drugs being a favourite means of doing just that. I don’t need narcotics of any kind, because I have an exit plan. That’s my reality. It was a means to an end, and as long as I held onto that reality, I could get through about anything.

  Truth is, I’d spent the past year weaving fairy tales and fantasies for people, for a price. Sort of like Monica—but in different ways. I’d like to say in more intimate ways, but perhaps not. I may touch people on a physically intimate way, but she touches them emotionally. She weaves tales that allow them escape for far more than just an hour or two, and I’m sure if you were to question the people who used my services, in comparison to hers, you’d find her readers found more long lasting satisfaction.

  But I digress.

  The point is this: even on the few dates I’d gone on since arriving in Amsterdam, I hadn’t been my real self. But I was with her, and it felt good. I almost worried it was too good, especially since I also know there’s no chance of us actually becoming a couple. But it felt good not have to be the image I attempted to maintain for a change. I could be goofy and laid back—normal.

  I could exhale…

  Fuck, I’m getting ahead of myself.

  “So what now?” Monica asked, her dark eyes peering up at me.

  I looked down at my watch. It was 4pm. Shit. We’d been in the museum for over 2 hours. I grimaced. “I have to be to work at 7, and I need time to prepare before I got there.”

  “Prepare?”

  I knew where she was staying. It was a 45-minute walk from the museum, so I began leading her down the road that led to her hotel. If we leisurely strolled, I could extend our time together to an hour and a half.

  “Well, it’s sort of like an athlete who prepares for a big game.”

  She giggled, cocking a brow at me. “Athlete, huh?”

  I laughed with her. “Sort of. And it can be. It’s a very intensive job that I have.”

  “Right.” She continued to humour me.

  “Cut me some slack, hear me out!”

  Her smile faded just a smidge, and she nodded. “Sorry. Very well. Explain.”

  “I can’t just go in there, dick waving and raging to go.”

  A burst of laughter erupted from her, as she flipped her dark locks over her shoulder. “No, huh?”

  “Nope. It’s like being an actor in a play.”

  “A minute ago
it was like being an athlete, and now it’s an actor in a play?”

  “It’s like both.”

  “How so?”

  “You have to prepare for it. Mentally psych yourself up. Especially if you’re going to be with someone you really don’t want to.”

  “Like a man?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. Exactly. There’s some people I’d rather dip my dick in hot wax instead of fuck.”

  “So why do it? What do you need money for so badly that you would do something you really don’t want to? Surely you could get a different job and get the same result.”

  “Because I have a plan and this is the quickest way to achieve it.”

  She groaned out loud. “Ohmygod, you’re difficult. So what’s the plan?”

  I was going to tell her. It was on the tip of my tongue, but I stopped myself. Instead, I flashed her a grin. Gotta keep that air of mystery, you know. “I’ll tell you next time I see you.”

  “But…”

  “That’s the deal. If you want to know badly enough, you know how to get hold of me.”

  Her eyes narrowed at me, but a smile returned to her lips.

  “At least you will when I give you my cell number.” I added. “I have to make sure you call me one way or another, don’t I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So, deal.” I extended my hand to her.

  “Okay. Deal.” She took my hand. Her hand was so damned soft, I didn’t want to release it. When I did, it was just long enough to take it back into my opposite hand. I kept my hand firmly in hers until we reached the lobby of the hotel.

  Chapter 7

  Monica

  Now what? I thought as we entered the hotel lobby. This wasn’t a date, so should I expect a goodbye kiss? Or maybe a hug? But then again, I’d gotten a lot more than that the other night. Admittedly, though, a part of me was a little concerned that people would recognize him from the club and know he was a male escort. Would they then assume that I’d just gotten back from a private ‘date?’ Did it really matter? It wasn’t like I’d ever see these people again. It didn’t.

  I looked around us. No one seemed to be paying attention to us, anyhow.

  I suddenly felt guilty for my feelings of insecurity. Really, who was I to judge what the beautiful man beside me did for a living? Though in my defense, the sense of pride I had being on the arm of such an gorgeous, charming man quickly overruled my moment of unease.

  So what if they knew who he was and what he did? If they knew, then that meant that they had also experimented in the world of escorts, so to put it bluntly, fuck them.

  “I know what you’re thinking.” A voice whispered in my ear, startling me and making me yelp softly. I looked up to see him grinning down at me as we stood near the elevators.

  I could feel my cheeks heating up. “Umm. You do?” I prayed to God he didn’t know what I was thinking, the last thing I wanted was for him to think I was embarrassed. Fuck, who was I to be embarrassed by a man like him? I felt bad all over again. I felt like such a hypocrite.

  He turned to face me, putting a hand on each of my forearms and looking down into my eyes. Damn, he had incredible grey eyes with lashes a little longer than average on a man. And his dimples. Damn, damn, damn. I was about ready to melt to the floor as he looked down onto me. How many women melted under his intense stare? Thousands. Several a night? I didn’t want to even think about it.

  “You’re thinking that you have lots more sightseeing to do tomorrow and wondering if I’d be up to going with you?”

  Shit, he was a cocky one. That hadn’t even sprung to my mind. I hadn’t been able to get past whether he was going to kiss me goodbye. His left hand stayed on my upper arm as the right slipped up my arm, caressing my shoulder. He ran his index finger up the side of my neck, making me shiver as my eyes began to slowly close. “Well, I...”

  “I’ll meet you here in the lobby at noon tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question, but statement of fact.

  Before I could register what he’d said, his lips were on mine, lightly teasing. I sighed as my body fell against his, all thoughts and reservations gone. Who gave a shit, anyhow? All that mattered was the feelings rising up within me. The oh-so-good feelings that made me moan softly, lips parting just enough to invite him in.

  My body pressed against his, my arms wrapping around his neck, securing him to me. When I felt the rapid ascension of his dick against my stomach, a soft snicker vibrated through my body. No Viagra needed with me, thank you very much. It gave me a damned good amount of satisfaction.

  “What?” He pulled back looking down at me perplexed. “Did I do something?”

  “I, well...” He attempted to pull back a little further, but I pulled him back to me. He felt too damned good against me, I wasn’t about to let him go so easily or quickly. “I was just thinking…” I sighed, might as well tell him the truth and be done with it. “I was thinking you didn’t need any help getting up just now.”

  His concern quickly faded and he gave me a lopsided grin, as he pushed his now rock hard erection pressing against me. “None at all.”

  Pressing my face into his neck, I bit back a moan that was threatening to tumble past my lips as I grasped at his shoulders. God, I wanted to ask him to come up. But I didn’t. He had to work. Fucking other people, a voice in the back of my head reminded me. Dammit, I hated that voice.

  Taking a deep breath, I gathered myself and pushed back from him. I took one step back, and then another quicker one. I needed as much space as possible between us. “I should let you get to it…”

  “Yeah.” He closed the distance. I prepared myself for another deep, soul shaking kiss, but never got it. Instead, he leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pointed to the floor. “Right here. Noon.”

  “Noon.” I parroted, pressing the call button for the elevator.

  The elevator dinged and I stepped in, our gazes locking one last time before the doors slid closed, breaking the connection.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  What was Mitchell doing? I huffed. I knew what he was doing. He was at work. He was fucking someone. I attempted to write another few lines to the story I’d been working on for over an hour now. I had managed two paragraphs so far. This was getting nowhere.

  I looked at my computer in disgust. Writer friends frequently chatted about writer’s block. Up until this point, I’d never suffered from it, but I couldn’t help it. My mind wouldn’t shut off, which wouldn’t be such a bad thing if my thoughts were focused on work. But they weren’t. They were focused on Mitchell, and to a lesser extent, Xander.

  Then my mind would wander to them both. Last night. The way they had taken me to heights of pleasure I’d never experienced before.

  Fuck it. I was done for the night. I needed to unwind. The small room seemed even more tiny than it was. It was becoming suffocating. I could hear laughter and voices coming from outside my room window. Shutting down my laptop and putting it aside, I stood and walked to the window. It was a beautiful summer night, and I was wasting it in my room, working. What kind of loser worked when in Amsterdam on vacation when they could be having fun?

  Losers like me, that’s who.

  Deciding it was time to explore I didn’t bother getting dressed up this time. Instead, I changed out of my boxers and t-shirt into a pair of jeans and tailored-fit black button-down blouse. Slipping my feet into a pair of black leather ankle boots, I grabbed my purse, tossed my room card key in the side pocket, and left the room.

  Leaving the hotel, I wasn’t really sure where I was going to go, just out. I spent the first half hour or so wandering. Exploring the city at night was an entirely different experience than the day. The city at night has such personality.

  Whether it was a conscious thing or not, I found myself walking past the red lights marking the red light district and into the area itself. As I passed the lights, I considered turning back. I’d done and experienced what I’d intended to do the previous night, what was t
he point in going back?

  But my mind wasn’t really thinking, I was just moving. Before I even knew it, I was standing outside of the club where Mitchell and Xander worked. I paused as my hand reached for the door handle. What in the fuck was I doing? I was going to turn back right now, that’s what. I started to and collided with the hard body Xander. I didn’t have to look up to know it was him—my body recognized his.

  “Monica. Good to see you.”

  I looked up and sure enough, my gaze landed on the smiling blonde’s face.

  “Come back for another go at it? There’s a lot of fun to be had. Just say the word.”