by Kira Barker
With my destination just ahead of me, I allowed myself to exhale loudly, which turned into a cut-off shriek when a strong hand suddenly pulled me into a corridor leading off to the kitchen. My first instinct was to expect Darren, keen on taking his annoyance out on me in the old-fashioned, against-the-wall kind of way, but when I turned, it was Alison’s husband Ray who was smiling at me much too familiarly for his own good.
“You seem a little vexed today, Penelope,” he remarked, still holding on to my arm. “Has that little extra attention last night gotten under your skin, or what?”
I pointedly looked down at where his fingers were still wrapped around my arm, deigning not to stoop to his level and tear myself free. He let go reluctantly, and not without caressing my skin further with his thumb. I caught his gaze then and did my very best to appear as calm and relaxed as possible.
“Minor things like that haven’t concerned me in a very long time, Mr. Moss.”
“Oh, but I think we are past such formalities, now that I’ve seen you get fucked, wouldn’t you say? Call me Ray.”
Every fiber of my being wanted to protest, but I put on a pleasant mask and inclined my head.
“Very well. Ray.”
He leaned closer until he was definitely intruding into my personal space, but with the wall right next to me, I couldn’t exactly inch away unless I decided to turn around and flee. Holding my ground, I did my best not to let my annoyance show.
“Are you enjoying your time here? Very nice club, very prestigious members. Makes me wonder… a business card here, one there, and you could easily make enough today to take time off for the rest of the month.”
“I don’t go actively looking for work when I’m on a job,” I tartly informed him, hoping to forestall any offers he might have in store.
Sadly, that message was ignored, although I was sure that it had been received.
“Don’t mind Darren’s sensibilities. He’s well aware that you weren’t a virgin when he first bedded you. Just like any other hooker before you, when he’s done with you, he’ll move on to the next. Don’t think you’re anything special.”
Why everyone was so adamant about informing me of that, I had no idea, but with Ray it didn’t even sting.
“I don’t have any delusions about that, but thank you for your concern.”
Instead of pissing him off, my rebuke made him laugh and lean in just a little more. His breath fanned across my face, but I steeled my back, trying not to let that affect me.
“I see why he picked you. You’re a funny one. Bright, too. Let’s see just how much of a business woman you are. Call me when you have your black book of appointments open again.”
Instead of handing me his business card, he pushed it into the cleavage of my dress, making sure that it also slid into my bra cup. I resisted the urge to tear it out right away and fling it onto the floor. Instead, I continued to stare, now in a deadpan way, at Ray.
“I won’t call you, and I won’t set up an appointment with you in the future. I’m at a place in my life where I don’t have to take every prospective client, and you put yourself firmly on my list of permanent rejects.”
That finally cut through his air of amusement, but only put a small damper on his demeanor. At least it made him back off, but before he retreated for good, he leaned in once more.
“I promise you, you will beg me on your knees to fuck you, and unlike little Mister Perfect out there, I don’t see the need to treat a whore as anything but the useless slut she is. Mark my words.”
I looked after him until I was sure he’d left the corridor branching off from this one, then I made my way over to the bathroom, twice as intent as before on keeping my promise to Ray.
Unsurprisingly, the remainder of our stay at the club didn’t get any better than this. At least I didn’t cause a scandal, but Darren’s joviality from the night before had pretty much disappeared for good. We stayed as long as he felt the need to, then left, neither of us speaking a word on the way home.
There, he commanded me up to the bedroom straight away, and while he wasn’t exactly rough with me, his touch lacked the tenderness from the morning and the passion from last night. Halfway through, he pushed me over and onto my knees, taking me doggy style, and this time he didn’t bother with making me come first. The moment he was done, he was off, telling me to stay available to him later but he had work to do in the meantime.
Not just a little stunned, I took a shower, then retreated to the bed, trying very hard not to let that get to me. Why his coldness affected me so much I couldn’t say. It wasn’t just because I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I’d disappointed him and on some level deserved his scorn. It wasn’t my fault that this time his play of taking me where I wasn’t wanted hadn’t worked to his advantage, or so I figured.
He returned about an hour later, his shirtsleeves rolled up and his hair slightly rumpled as if he’d been wrenching his fingers through it repeatedly, a somewhat apologetic look on his face.
“I shouldn’t have treated you like that,” he offered without actually apologizing. “Just before we left, I got a message that one of my upcoming trials got expedited, messing up my entire schedule.”
“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” I lied and put on a professional smile. “I can leave, if you prefer that.”
He shook his head and looked away, now actually seeming chagrined, but then his gaze snatched to something on the floor. Only when he picked it up and frowned at it did I realize that Ray’s stupid card must have fallen out of my clutch when I took out my phone earlier. Why I hadn’t thrown it away yet, I couldn’t say, but Darren looked less than pleased about it.
“Didn’t I tell you that one of the things I won’t have is you propositioning others when you’re with me?”
Anger welled up inside of me, but I quickly bit down on it. Even though he’d only been my client for a few weeks now, I’d come to know him well enough to realize that flaring up in his face wouldn’t do me any good.
“I didn’t proposition him, he propositioned me. And although it’s none of your business, I told him to get lost. I have no intention of him becoming one of my clients.”
“Yeah, that’s why you kept his card,” he sneered, but immediately got a grip on himself. The cold, detached look he regarded me with made me a hell of a lot more uncomfortable than his rudeness before. “Pack your bags. I’m sending you home.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but he shook his head and walked over to the adjacent office, the sound of his footsteps soon followed by the beeping of the safe lock combination.
Exhaling heavily, I did as he bid me, even if my stomach was so upset that I felt close to puking. By the time I had everything stowed in my carry-on and my clothes firmly in place again, he was back, thrusting a thick envelope into my hands.
“As agreed, your fee for the entire weekend,” he said, already turning around to head back into his office.
“You don’t have to pay me for time you didn’t spend with me,” I protested, rather feebly.
He paused and looked back at me over his shoulder.
“I am aware of that fact, but I still took up the allotted time in your schedule, keeping you from other engagements. Keep it. I earn my money with honesty, might as well spend it like that, too.”
If there’d ever been a dismissal, it was that, and I swallowed whatever else I would have loved to throw in his face right then. Even though it wasn’t my fault, I knew that there was no sense in trying to defend myself further. It was part of my job to meet all his needs, and clearly, I’d failed. All that was left for me now was to take the fall with as much grace as I could.
Shouldering up my bags, I took myself downstairs to wait at the curb for a taxi to pick me up. If that was the last I ever saw of him, I wouldn’t let that butler sneer in my face while he called one for me.
Chapter 9
I still felt like shit as I dragged my sorry ass home, and there was nothing I could do
about it. No hot chocolate, nor a glazed muffin left over from yesterday could chase away the thunderclouds hanging over my head. I took my time showering, careful to wash off even the last lingering note of his scent. By the time I toweled myself dry, I was sick of my pity party and incredibly annoyed at myself for letting misery drag me down like that.
So what—he had been one of my more interesting clients, but he was just that—a client. Not my boyfriend who had caught me cheating, not my long-standing confident. Darren was just a client, or had been, I mentally chastised myself. They came and went—pun intended—and very soon Brigitte would find a new man I could entertain for an hour or two.
I called her but only got her voice mail, a fact I was insanely grateful for. I left a quick message, explaining that Hunter had been dissatisfied with me because of a misunderstanding—that it was his fault on more than one account wasn’t something I would tell her on the phone, and I knew that Brigitte didn’t care either way, lost business was lost business—and I was free tonight¸ should something have come up in the meantime.
Then I switched to my other phone, and five minutes later Adam opened his door for me, letting me, my cuddly blanket, and the pot of coffee I’d brewed in. One look at my face had him divest me of the gift I came bearing so he could hug me. For a moment I just drank in that warmth and closeness, taking what comfort he was so happy to lend, and let myself fall into it.
“Shit, I hate my job sometimes.”
He hugged me a little harder, then stepped away to fetch mugs while I sank down onto his couch.
Our apartments were mirror images of each other on the blueprint level, but where I tried to keep everything as tidy and neat as possible, chaos reigned in his. If not for my sporadic visits, I doubted he would have left enough space for two people on the couch between all the magazines, print-outs, electronics parts, and food containers. It wasn’t at the level where pest control was on his speed dial, but close. Normally, I was tempted to comment on that, but today I hardly noticed.
“Bad gig, huh?” He ventured a guess as he sat down beside me, leaving enough space between us that we could both pull our legs up on the couch and still only occasionally bump knees.
“Kinda,” I admitted, exhaling loudly. “Although that wasn’t what went south. Just the circumstances.”
He hesitated, then moved a little closer.
“You know, if you want to tell me, I’m all ears. It’s not like I can tell anyone else.”
“You could scandalize dear Agent Smith,” I supposed.
“Nah, she wouldn’t appreciate it enough to warrant hurting your confidence in me,” he joked, or so I hoped.
“I really shouldn’t tell you the details. I’m even legally obliged not to.”
“Eh, who cares about the law?”
He laughed, then pointedly glared at the corner across the room where one of the not-so-hidden cameras the surveillance team had installed was. Of course I knew that it was there, but the reminder still served me well. It was getting dark outside, but I was too drained to take our conversation to the terrace.
“So, are you going to tell me any details, or do you want me to guess? I presume that vague statement means that you’re still a hell of a lay, and sex wasn’t the problem.”
“As you very well know,” I pointed out, then shook my head, trying to make up my mind. “No, that wasn’t the issue. He took me somewhere I wasn’t exactly welcome, and he got annoyed with me because I couldn’t play the perfect eye candy for him. Then he found out that someone had propositioned me, and he got mad. And the rest is history.”
Adam considered his reply carefully.
“Isn’t that kind of part of the ego trip for some of them, seeing that other guys want to fuck you, too, but they can’t, because you’re with them?”
“He warned me not to instigate anything, and I kept the other dude’s card,” I replied.
“And that was enough for him to go off in your face? Some men really don’t deserve you.”
I took that compliment with a sad smile and buried my nose in my mug.
“Did you try to explain the misunderstanding to him?” he asked next.
I shook my head. “Not exactly. He already seemed to have made up his mind, and I doubt anything I could have said would have changed it. I didn’t live up to his expectations, plain and simple. Shit, but I hate disappointing them.”
Adam was wise enough to remain silent at my confession, but he seemed hard-pressed to continue doing so.
“What?” I asked, just a little annoyed.
He sighed and took a drink of coffee for sustenance.
“Don’t get me wrong, but that’s just screwed up.”
“Says the guy who jets around the world, doing undercover, borderline-illegal stuff for the various three-letter agencies of our proud nation,” I jibed.
Adam looked back at me, nonplussed.
“But I don’t actually feel bad when someone screws up things for me and I can’t straighten them. Seriously, they pay you for sex. Anything else should be secondary.”
“But they pay me enough that they can—and do—expect perfect satisfaction. Even if it’s not my fault if something goes wrong, I still have to take the fall.”
“Like hell,” he grunted.
“I could have thrown away the card,” I pointed out.
“Is he really that insecure that he resents you having other clients? You weren’t screwing that guy on his time, after all, I guess?”
I shook my head.
“No, but the fact that he’s his mentor’s husband and also his boss, kind of, might have had something to do with it.”
“Ah, the plot thickens,” Adam surmised and put his cup down. “Tell me more. Was the wife involved, too?”
“I actually had drinks with her before, and she really seemed to like me. Even knowing who I am, which is rather unusual.”
“Hell, that guy took you to social functions where people somehow could see that you’re a working girl. I’d say all of that is unusual.”
Not as unusual as he likely thought, but I kept that to myself.
“Fact is, it still rankles that I disappointed him. And it doesn’t help that I’ll miss him.”
“As a client,” Adam deadpanned, looking suddenly alarmed.
“Of course,” I quickly assured him, pausing just long enough to lend conviction to my words. “What do you think I am, a newbie? Money, manners, and a nice bod aren’t enough to turn my head upside down. You should know that.”
“Do I? I’m poor as a pauper, last time I looked I didn’t even know the definition of ‘chivalrous,’ and while I know you like my tats, I’m well aware that I’m no Adonis.”
“You’ll still always have a special place in my heart. And my appointment book,” I retorted, bumping my knee against his.
“Aw, you warm my heart. And other places, but considering that right now you don’t really look too open to any advances from my side, I think I’ll keep my horniness to myself.”
“Much obliged.” I laughed, then realized how strange the sound seemed to me, and the underlying sentiment even more. “It’s just that I hate it when things like that happen,” I offered, trying to pick up the thread before we’d headed into uneven waters.
“You’re a perfectionist, and this time it was out of your control to turn everything around and make it perfect. I get that,” Adam replied.
“It’s not just that,” I went on, considering. “It wasn’t like he was deliberately misunderstanding me, or ignored my point, but something about this keeps rubbing me the wrong way.”
He thought about that for a moment, and when he caught my gaze, I saw a similar slow-burning frustration in it that I felt right now.
“Just because they pay us for what we do and we shouldn’t say no doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt when we’re not appreciated.”
I was a little perplexed that he included himself in the statement, but then, in many ways, I had more freedom about my job
than he did in his.
“Do you think it’s that easy? That I’m just sore because he sent me home and we quit on a bad note?”
Another shrug.
“Are you?”
“A little,” I admitted, if grudgingly. “But things were going so smoothly! And last night everything was perfect, I felt like he was really challenging me, and the sex was great, and we kind of had a connection there, I think…”
“You think?” His voice was just shy of taunting me.
“Well,” I started, then thought better of what I’d initially wanted to say. Admitting that things between us had kind of turned a lot more intimate than they probably should have was likely not the best way to tackle this issue. “He was kind of on the fast track to becoming my favorite client at the moment. And it’s been quite a while since I bombed something this epically. See why I’m having some troubles there?”
Adam offered me a grunt in return that could have meant anything.
“So really, it’s hurt pride and a golden opportunity lost, eh? And there you had me worried for a second that actual feelings were involved.”
It was easy to shrug that accusation off, but mostly because it had become second nature.
“Let’s get real there for a moment. I’m an escort, and he’s my client. Outside of cheesy romance novels and equally cheesy romantic comedies, that never works out. I’m just the flavor of the month, and he’s a nice, semi-steady source of income for me. If I really lost my head over every guy I like to fuck, I think I would have killed myself years ago.”
Adam dismissed the idea with a grin and reached for his coffee again, but I couldn’t help being slightly concerned over how my own words made me feel. Giving voice to those thoughts had been a simple means of deflection, but they actually hurt—and they shouldn’t have. It was the reality I was living, not just some bland deflective statement… and still.
