by Olivia Myers
"I see." She tried to keep her tone level, but her insides were trembling.
"I don't think you can. Suffice it to say, I'm used to frequently indulging my arousal. I need orgasms, and plenty of them. Having frequent sex is as natural to me as breathing. Growing up in New Saigon, I always knew what I wanted to do."
"Be an escort?" she whispered.
"It's pleasurable. I enjoy it. It's easy, it's natural, it's inevitable. And the women who come here are lovely and willing, even eager. Ready to enjoy themselves fully and let me do anything with them I want, and what I want is to give them as much pleasure as I get from them. It feels good, both to give and receive. Following me?"
"Yes."
"This is what I've been doing for years. When I started, I was somewhat...emotional. I am no longer that way. Emotions are for loving. Sex is for pleasure. What I do is for pleasure, not friendship."
Why did her heart ache for him? He didn't sound sad. He sounded matter-of-fact. It was a fact of his life that sex and love were separate. She nodded.
"Drink your water." The words were softly spoken, but to Natalie, it was as though he'd ordered her to stroke herself. She gulped.
"Oh. Okay." She forced herself to take a sip and found to her surprise that her throat was very dry. She gulped the water down.
"I'm sorry, but from your image, all the details of your reservation, you seemed typical." He gestured toward her and then took his first sip of his drink. He savored it, and his eyes seemed to grow smoky. Natalie's breath caught.
"I expected the usual. And then you—" He frowned and glanced away. "You're not typical. And that...irritated me. So I was not my usual tactful self."
"Oh."
He reached across the table, then hesitated when she retracted her face away from his hand. It dropped away. "Natalie, I got the distinct impression you thought I was trying to get you to leave. On the contrary."
"You weren't?"
"No. Not before, and definitely not now. You see, sweetling, your little breasts are pointing at me with their eager fingertips, and I'm so hard my balls hurt. That white dress makes you look like you've never touched a man in your life, but I can smell your sex. Your feet are bundled up in those boots, and...look, I just want you to take off that necklace and that silly dress and sit on this table and scuttle up to my mouth and then I want to tongue you. Is that clear?"
She tried to speak, but it was impossible with her jaw where it was.
"I'm your escort, and it's my job to want you. So I'm doing a good job." His mouth twisted wryly. "But it's not my job to talk to you like you're a person outside of this place, outside of your need for pleasure. But then, you started it."
"I did?"
"Yes, you treated me like—never mind." He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his features were not quite so hard, his expression gentler. "It's my absolute pleasure to pleasure you tonight and any night, Natalie. In whatever way you want."
"But the problem is I don't want it," she said in a rush. "I'm not sexual like that. I don't have sex with men I don't know, or even ones I know, most of the time."
"Ah." He gestured to a server, who came over. Natalie pressed her lips together as he spoke quietly, placing their order with words that didn't register.
She continued as soon as the server had gone, in a hushed, embarrassed tone. "I'm not even comfortable kissing a man on the first date or the second or even the third. You couldn't possibly understand. You're nothing like me."
He stared at her without expression. "I see."
"I knew that when I saw your picture in the catalog. I saw it and I knew it was a bad idea. That's why I picked someone else. Someone harmless."
She saw the flare of his nostrils. But he nodded, saying nothing.
"The whole escort idea was a bad one, and it wasn’t my idea. But I wanted to make the most of it. I should make the most of it. I mean, I'm here. I came a long way. My friends and I work at a travel agency on Entcelary-28. I used to be a land ranger but my friends all told me I'd never find happiness in the country, so I moved to a town and got a job where I would meet people, have adventures. I do need to relax. They're right. This place is just what I need, of course. I can see everyone here is happier than I am."
"Are they?"
She shrugged. Now that she'd started talking and being honest, it was hard to stop. "I don't know. I don’t know how they could be, and I don’t know how you live in this place day in and day out, Kirk. How you work for the escort agency and everything. The whole city smells like a perfume swamp, and my nose goes numb, and even the soft lights are blinding, and everybody's trying to massage me, and they're all walking around half naked and it makes me even more stressed than when I came. I guess I'm just not a very pleasurable or sensuous person."
She sucked in a deep breath after the last part. Had she really just blurted out that frenzied monologue to a man who was paid to sit and listen to her? Where had her shyness with men gone? What must he think of her? Then she reminded herself that he didn't mind it. He'd said so.
His lips quirked. "No, that's not quite it."
"But don't you see I don't fit in at all?"
"Yes. I get that." He reached across and this time, she didn't move away as his finger stroked down her cheek and over her lips, which trembled. "Why don't we eat our dinner and then discuss this when our bellies are full? I think you'll feel a lot better when you're not hungry."
"How do you know I'm hungry?"
"Instinct."
The food tasted fantastic, more than wonderful, as she should have expected in any place called a pleasure tavern. Her blood pounded through her veins throughout the meal because she kept sneaking glances at Kirk. Each time, she found him watching her oddly, as though he was expecting her to do something bizarre.
Finally she found herself staring at her empty plate, which she'd wiped clean with two fingers. Those fingers were still in her mouth as she sucked on the last of the delicious, meaty juices and finally pushed the plate away.
He seemed to be holding back a smirk. "Finished?"
"Yes," she said. "That was good. I do like the food here. Just not everything else."
"Good." He smiled.
She found herself smiling back.
"I want to walk you back to your hotel. I won't come in. I know you don't want that."
That pulsing sensation swelled, and her satisfaction with the meal was instantly supplanted by a yawning hunger deep inside her sex. Not good. This man was arousing a lust in her that threatened to make her insane. Walk closely with him? Maybe ask him to kiss her? Stupid idea. But so tempting. He would kiss her if she asked. He'd said so.
She spoke cautiously. "It's not dangerous out there, even if it is late. This city never sleeps. At least, that's what Moona and Jackie told me. I've spent most of my nights here sleeping, which I understand is a waste of time."
"I don’t want to walk you back because of danger."
"Oh."
He sighed. "You already know what it's about, Natalie."
"I do?" Her brow furrowed.
"Yes, because I told you. It's about your naked lips and your flicking pink tongue and your secret, begging nipples and the way you keep shoving your knees together under the table. It's the fact that you're the most sensuous and sensual person I've ever met in my fucking life, and you're averse to having sex. So I'm going to walk you back and make sure I see you close yourself inside your room before another man can take what you aren't ready to give."
Her hand flew to her mouth. "You—are you—"
"Sweetling, this is New Saigon, a world of endless pleasure, and I would pluck you off your feet if I saw you the way you are right now and I'd met you any way but this one." He winced and bowed his head, then pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. His body was shaking visibly.
She was almost afraid to ask, but did so tremulously as she, too, rose. "What's wrong?"
He glanced up and scowled. "Just give me a second. I'm working
hard here, telling myself you're just a client."
That should have injured her feelings, to hear him dismiss her that way. But realizing he wanted her so badly he was hurting made the muscles in her legs turn to liquid, and between them, her juices exploded.
"We need to get out of here," he said in a low voice.
She didn't remember leaving the pleasure tavern. She barely heard what he asked or her own response. But at one point she became aware that they were walking side by side in the direction of the hotel, not touching. She looked at him quickly. Her gaze wandered down his beautiful chest and down to his....
She halted. She had to press her knuckles pressed painfully against her lips at the sight of that enormous bulge raging against the fabric of his pants, practically all the way up to his hard, rippling belly.
He halted, too, and before she could do or say anything, she felt her chin jerked upward. "Don't do that."
She flushed, ashamed. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be an idiot. You know what I want. But it's your money, and you call the shots."
"Actually, it's the agency's money," she blurted. "They're paying for all of it—the fare, the food, the gambling, the clothes. They want to send tourists to New Saigon so they can enjoy...never mind. What do you care? It's work. I shouldn't be thinking about work right now. This is why I don't like dating. It's so awkward. I always say the wrong thing. I need to be more enthusiastic, like Moona. Or clever, like Jackie."
"Ah, Natalie. If this is you saying the wrong things, I'd hate to hear the right things coming out of your mouth."
She wasn't sure what he meant by that, but he didn't respond to her puzzled look, just started walking again. She quickly caught up just as a long lectrain shot by, full of passengers, making her cover her ears. Soon the lit signs grew familiar. She found herself flinching as the too-bright lights of the hotel, with its elegant, sweeping lines, flashed in her eyes.
He spoke casually. "You have no idea why you're stressed all the time, do you?"
"What?"
"You're stressed because you're a sensory sponge. Most people who come here need an influx of sensory stimulation to relax them. You just need a look. A stroke. A note. A whiff. Any more and you're in overload. You really should live somewhere big and open, with wide swathes of land, maybe water, where the loudest thing is wind and rain."
She blinked. Could he be right?
"The first moment I saw you I thought you looked like a roped bellios. Trapped and wild." He turned. "We're here. You're here. I've changed my mind. I'm not going to see you to your door." He looked a bit sheepish. "I'm your biggest danger, after all. Goodbye, Natalie."
Her heart pounding madly, she grabbed his arm before he could walk away. The silky feel of his hair and skin and the solid muscle underneath seared her flesh and her fingers clenched almost painfully. "Wait. I was thinking. You said it was your pleasure to pleasure me however I wanted. What if I wanted...a kiss?"
His expression didn't change, but he took a while answering. "Exactly what are you asking, Natalie?"
"I know you'd kiss me. But would you do it because you've been paid to? Or because you...want to?"
"Because I've been paid to," he said without delay.
"Oh. Right. Of course. Right. Then never mind."
He plucked her hand off his arm and smiled tightly at her. "Go, please."
"You want to watch me?"
His eyes closed for a moment. "Yes. I want to watch you."
It was hard to leave suddenly. Her legs quivered. "Kirk, I enjoyed meeting you. Even if you are an escort and had to be there."
"Yes, Natalie."
"Did you—"
"Yes, Natalie. Now get the fuck out of here before I pull you down on the ground, shove up your dress, open your soaking vulva and take you right on the street."
His voice was so even and calm that it took a moment to register what he'd said. Oh, dear stars. She almost came right there.
Suddenly it was clear. She wanted him. She’d paid for him. And with how much he was turning her on, dammit, she was going to have him.
"I can't," she said thinly. "I don't care anymore. We paid for you and I know you're only here because you have to be and you'd rather be with one of your easy clients, not me, but—Kirk, please. Do it. Take me. Anywhere. Here. I don't care."
He stared at her. As if automatically, his hands rose towards her, his lips parted and his teeth flashed. It was the most savage look she had ever seen from anyone. Eat, breathe, and sleep sex.
Then he seemed to catch himself and jerked his fists back down.
"I mean it," he bit out. "Get inside."
"Did you hear me? I want—"
"We'd both regret it. So, no. I'll give you your retching money back. I'm not your escort anymore. Not now, not ever again. Not for you."
She gaped. She couldn't believe it. This Katarian was the most highly sexed being she had ever met. He'd just told her he lusted for her, promised to pleasure her however she wanted. And now he couldn't bring himself to do it because he'd regret it? Because it was her?
It was humiliating.
"No," she said to herself, quietly, shaking her head, trying to deny this was happening.
Natalie backed up. She had no idea where she was going. Just—away from him. But her boot heel caught the edge of the gold-tiled step, and she fell. The world swung. Then there were shouts around her and before she could even realize what had happened, she landed backwards on something warm and soft.
A person. Two people, strangers who’d been kissing on the steps. She scrambled away from them, muttering an apology. But before she could stand fully upright, someone swept her up in his arms.
She focused and saw him.
"Put me down," she said, but it was hushed, because somehow it was hard to find her breath, and she grabbed his neck to keep herself from falling back.
Kirk didn't acknowledge her command, just strode up the steps with a furious expression on his face. "Room code," he snapped.
"How should I remember?" she managed.
"Forgive me, you shouldn't; you are, after all, a complete idiot," he snarled.
Hysterical laughter bubbled from her throat. He sent her a warning glance. She mumbled a guess and it turned out to be right. Within a few minutes, he was swinging the door of her suite open and then they were inside and the door had shut behind them.
"Natalie?"
The last person Natalie expected to see sitting on the bed by the door was her friend Jackie. The woman was utterly and unconcernedly naked. She looked astonished and, as she assessed Kirk, amused.
"J-Jackie? What are you doing here? I thought you were going to spend the night at the pleasure palace or whatever it is."
"Isn't it obvious? A Prickling Conchita spilled all over my skirt. Roberon was kind enough to hold the taxi while I changed. What are you two doing here? Never mind, I can see what you're doing here. Hello. You must be the—"
"Nice to meet you, Jackie," Kirk said in a tone nobody in the room could ever mistake for pleasant. "Get dressed and get out."
Jackie's eyes widened. "Oh." Natalie had never seen her friend nonplussed. "Well, I need to, uh, find a dress and..."
"Pick the first one you see." Kirk assessed the three beds. He carried Natalie over to the one by the window and dropped her down.
Jackie's jaw dropped. "Hey, how did you know that was Natalie's bed?"
"Dress, Jackie," Kirk clipped.
Natalie caught him surveying Jackie's unclothed body almost impatiently. She knew her friend attracted men like a megamagnet, and she knew how susceptible Kirk was to women. Was he realizing how gorgeous her perfect breasts were, her round hips, her furred blond pubis, her shapely legs?
But even as she wondered it, Kirk looked back at Natalie. His golden eyes narrowing, he leaned over her, propping himself on both hands so the mattress sank deeply around her. "And you. Take off the dress."
Anguished lust and fury churned in her at the order. "Why,
so you can say more of those horrible things to me?"
"What horrible—oh. We need to have a talk about that sometime. But not now. Now I'm going to fuck your brains out, Natalie."
"Eh, I'm all for you fucking her brains out, Mr. Natalie's Escort, but you do remember I'm still here?" Jackie piped up from across the room.
Slowly, Kirk looked around with a cold expression. "I am not Natalie's escort. Jackie, you're her friend so I'm giving you a choice. You can exit the room in clothing by way of your own two feet, or I can carry you down as you are to your taxi. Which one?"
For the first time, Natalie witnessed her friend speechless. Join the club. He has a habit of doing this. You, at least, are probably grateful he's given you a choice. Me, on the other hand...
Jackie failed to reply, but then, she didn't really need to. She was out of the room in two minutes flat.
Natalie only absently noticed her exit. She was staring in the air at the holo documents Kirk had called up with hand gestures.
"There," he said. "It's done. A hundred percent refunded. With interest. All business relations between us zapped. Why aren't you naked?"
"But Kirk, won't your agency mind? Will you have to pay them—oh!"
It was too late. With a jarring frissssh sound, the dress was torn apart as though it were paper in his hands. Her underwear followed. Then her necklace, with appropriate care, she was relieved to note. And last, her boots.
He took a bit more time with those. His hands shook as he peeled her them away from her feet. His fingers massaged her heels, stroked her toes.
Then he looked her over, and it was like the first time he'd assessed her body. Up and down. Only this time, she could see the lust in him. Smell it.
"Fuck," he said quietly. His face looked like he was in agony.
She reached up and touched his skin, traced the angles of his face. The smell of him was musky and steamy and clean and so virile she almost couldn't bear it. "Will...will you kiss me now?" she dared ask again.
She waited tensely, afraid of another rejection.
Instead, his mouth settled right on hers, not ravaging at all despite the abrupt, urgent groan he made. His lips were neither dry nor moist, just soft and warm.
