by Misti Murphy
“Real or fantasy?” She wiggles those hips a little more, as though trying to rub against me.
We’ve both circled around what’s happening here, both of us keeping to small talk that gives nothing away. It’s frustrating as hell, wanting to know who she is, but I don’t ask questions since I can’t give anything back. Even if I wanted to tell her, I’m not sure she would believe me. I’m the crown prince of the small European country of Karovka, slumming it as a Vice escort in order to pay my way and keep from facing my duties. Duties she makes me want to forget about. “It’s been an adventure.”
Except that isn’t enough for the curious minx. “I want to know, Kaiser. Did you hear me when I said my safe word? Or are you breaking the rules?”
I scrape her hair away from her ear so I can nibble along the shell. “Fuck, you’re so sweet.”
I know it’s not what she’s asking, that’s she’s probably been trying to work out the answer, but I don’t know what I’m doing with her. This girl has me throwing caution to the wind, breaking rules I don’t break. Rules that have kept me flying under the radar for years. But telling her what I’d been thinking would be a mistake.
When the clock strikes midnight, this thing between us will be over. She’d be better off believing I didn’t hear her. Just because I’ve taken this moment for me, doesn’t change the fact I’ll hightail it out of here at the end of the night and never set eyes on her again.
“Did you hear me?” I feel her exhale, her back shifting against me. “Or is this where you tell me to mind my own business again?”
I turn her once more, so her tits are pressed to my chest, her pelvis now rubbing against my erection, and smooth my palm down her back to her ass. “Would it matter? You don’t seem to know when to drop a topic.”
A couple of women, the kind who normally would be doing their best to suck up to me if they knew who I was, stare down their noses instead. This is totally inappropriate behavior in a high society place like this, but if I’ve only got hours left with Allie then I’m going to use every moment of it to memorize her body.
Pulling away from me, she flicks her gaze to my face and reaches up to run her fingers over my jaw, while her eyes fill with some emotion I can’t place. Then she leaves me standing in the middle of the ballroom alone. Once again, this girl kicks my ass when it comes to walking away. Once again, something inside me raises havoc in my chest because it’s not ready to let her go.
I scrape a hand through my hair as I stare after her. It’s infuriating how easily she calls the shots. How her almost innocent touch has me wanting to get inside her so deep she’ll never get over it. Neither of which is a good idea to let happen. “Fuck me.”
Stalking away from the dance floor I close in on her where she’s picking up her bag and wrap from our table. When she sees me coming, she doesn’t wait. By the time I catch up to her she’s standing on the pavement, trying to hail a cab.
I grip her arm, yanking her to me. There’s barely an inch between us, but I keep it there because right now I’m losing my calm. Any closer and I’d be all over her, unable to stop from getting inside that sweet mouth, or keeping my hands off her body. Why the hell do I want her so bad? She’s nothing and nobody, and it shouldn’t matter what she thinks about me, but it does. It fucking does.
“I heard you.” I growl, can’t help it. She’s got me on the edge of reason every moment I spend with her, and I’m so close to tipping over that ledge. “But I’m not sure you heard me, Princess.”
“What?” She glances up at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide under thick sweeping lashes.
My palm to her face, I turn her roughly and bring her tight against me. Those lush lips have been tempting me all night, and I’m no longer able to avoid them. Leaning over her, I raise her chin and slam my mouth to hers, thrusting my tongue inside to meet hers. There’s a quick intake of breath and the softest of whimpers, then she’s digging her fingers into my hair and pouring herself into the kiss. Reality, fantasy, whatever this is, it feels so good.
She’s soft and pliable in my hands, and so fucking sweet. I suck her tongue into my mouth, my hand curling around her neck to deepen the kiss. This is what I’ve been avoiding, this moment where her taste sinks so deeply into my senses that I may never want to take my tongue out of her mouth, except to trail it over the rest of her creamy skin and dive into her pussy.
She moans and I pull away, only because I’m so close to sliding my hands up under her dress to grip her ass and slide my fingers along whatever scrap of panties she’s wearing. I want in her, but not here, not out on the street with people everywhere. I bite down on her bottom lip, pulling with my teeth before letting it go. “Shit.”
She’s panting, her balance slightly off as she clings to me. “Kai.”
She can’t even say my name, she’s so shaken up by what’s between us, but hearing her speak to me, using only a syllable of my name like it’s some secret between us is hot. I’m so hard, I have to reach down and adjust my dick. “Three more hours, Allie.” I run my fingers along her hairline and cup her cheek. “Give them to me. Say they’re mine.”
She takes a wobbly step back, her gaze narrowing, before she presses her teeth to her lip and glances away. “Why?”
“Because I want them.” It’s the only answer I can bring myself to give. I’ve wanted them since I saw her for the first time months ago. I want them and every other hour she has, even though it’s temporary, and I have no clue why it matters to me.
“What would the point be?” She wants to say yes. It’s written all over her face. This thing, this connection I feel is what drove her to find me in the first place. “Tonight’s been interesting. But I preferred it when you came into the bar and sat there drinking your Macallan while we traded silence. I died to hear your voice, you know? Each time you came in. I knew it was crazy, that I was crazy, but I couldn’t seem to help it. I guess that’s why I couldn’t help going to Vice when I found the card. But you’re not real.”
“Not real?” I take her hand, press it against my chest, and slide it slowly down my abs. “Then what do you suppose your hand is touching, Princess?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” She yanks her hand back. “The guy in the bar was something else entirely, wasn’t he? I guess I should have known.”
Then she bends over and takes off her heels, pushing them into my hands. The wrap follows as I stare at her. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I don’t need them, and I don’t want them.” She pulls the band from her hair, tugging her fingers through the braid. “You know, tonight was worth it. Because whatever the hell was so fascinating about you is gone.”
Her hair falls in a tangle of waves, making me want to dig my fingers into it and kiss her again. Wild Allie is so beautiful it tears my fucking heart out. “Just put the damn shoes back on. I don’t want you stepping on anything, or hurting yourself.”
“No. Don’t feign concern for me. I’ve spent the entire time since the garden trying to work out if you were being the guy in the bar or someone else. Whether you heard me or not when I used my safe word. I can’t tell. I really can’t, but it doesn’t matter. This whole thing is insane.”
It certainly is. What is it about her that makes me need more? I stare at the shoes in my hand as a cab pulls up to the curb.
“Well,” she says, with a tight smile. “You can say you did your job well. I mean this fairy tale is ending with you holding my shoes after all.”
I watch her pad toward the cab, her back to me. This is the last I’ll see of her, and I doubt it’ll be an easy task to forget her now that I’ve gotten a taste. I glance down at the damn shoes in my hands again as she gets in the car. Then they pull into traffic, leaving me staring after her, muttering, “Fuck me, it was real.”
***
I didn’t ring Saran straight away. Instead, I hot footed it to the closest bar. Three glasses of Macallan later, and I’m still not sure what the hell happene
d tonight.
I tap my fingers on the counter and study the room. I’ve spent a lot of hours in places like this. Not just after I’ve played my part in some woman’s fantasy, but even before that. When the whisky was the cheapest I could buy, and I could barely drink it through a straw after a fight. I used to drink a lot more of it back then, and tonight I plan to do the same.
The girl has me tied up in knots, and I don’t understand it. I’ve never had a problem with women before. They come, I come, I drink my Macallan and then I forget all about them. That’s how it should be and what I plan to do with the bottle I got the guy behind the bar to drop in front of me.
Loosening my tie, I pull out my phone and dial Saran. It’s a little early to call time, but then I’m about to tell him to do something he doesn’t like, something I’m not sure he’s ever done.
“Refund her,” I growl when he picks up.
He almost never leaves his office, but tonight I can hear voices and music in the background. “Shit, it’s not even ten. What the hell happened?”
“Just refund her.” I’m not in the mood to talk semantics. Not when my cock is aching, and I have nothing but whisky and my fist to look forward to. I already know all I’ll be seeing while I get myself off is her. I clench my teeth together so tight my jaw clicks and pops.
“Fuck, Kaiser. What’s going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I tell him. “She didn’t get what she paid for. So we should refund her. Take it out of my cut.”
“Is there anything you’re not telling me? Anything I should know?”
“No,” I force through grit teeth, so I don’t roar at him. There are plenty of things he probably would consider information I should have told him. I certainly have no intention on starting with her.
He’s quiet on the other end of the line for a long time, before he clears his throat. “Do you know her, Kaiser? This girl, is she a problem for you? What the hell aren’t you telling me?”
“Fuck. I couldn’t get it up, okay.” A complete utter lie. I’ve been rock hard since the moment I picked her up. But there’s no way I’m explaining to Saran that this girl bothers me in a way that doesn’t even make sense to me. I’m not some easily persuaded, follow my dick asshole, despite my choice of profession. But for some reason that’s precisely the effect she has on me.
“Do you want me to set up an appointment with Doc?”
“Nope. I’ll be fine.” As soon as I get a chance to relieve some of the pressure in my balls with a good old-fashioned hand job. “Just refund her. All of it. I’ll cover the difference.”
“Kaiser, for fuck’s sake. If you’re not telling me something—”
I hang up on him.
Chapter Ten
Allie
“The money is back in my account. It must be a mistake.” I tell the girl, who identifies herself as Laura from Vice.
“Alexandra, right?” She gets straight to the point, and I figure they must already know there’s been some kind of issue with the payment.
I tried the bank first, but all they would tell me that the transfer had gone through, and then the money had been sent back to me. “Allie, but yes.”
“Okay, Allie. Saran’s been waiting for your call. I’m just going to put you through.”
It’s been almost a week since that crazy evening I spent with Kaiser, whoever the hell he is. The money showed up almost immediately after. I’d stared at the balance of my account with my mouth open thinking that perhaps he was in fact the biggest asshole I’d ever met.
I sure as hell don’t want his money sitting in my account. I don’t want the reminder. Still, I ignored it for a while first, hoping it would magically vanish the way it had appeared. No luck. Or maybe I did consider keeping it, only in case of emergency while I was trying to find employment. But that’s not an issue now, since I found a new job.
“Allie?” A man’s voice, deep and smooth, comes through the line. “I’m Saran. I’m the owner here. I thought you might call about the refund.”
“It’s a mistake,” I tell him. “I didn’t ask for a refund.”
“According to your escort, Kaiser, you weren’t satisfied with your fantasy.”
He’s very business-like, blunt almost. It throws me a little. “No, but that was my fault. It wasn’t really anything to do with the way Vice handled the, uh, simulation. Is there any way I can refuse the refund?”
He chuckles. “I’ve never had anyone ask that before, not that we get many people complaining in the first place.” There’s some background noise, a filing cabinet or something being shut while he clicks his tongue. “Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?”
I glance at my watch. I don’t have a lot of time before I’m supposed to be at work. It’s my first shift, and I want to make a good impression, but I also want to get rid of this money that makes me think about Kaiser and whether any part of our time together was real. Including that kiss. I touch my fingers to my lips. I still get a little buzz remembering it. I’ve never experienced anything like it. “What would you like to know?”
“Did you use your safe word at any time during the game?”
“Yes.” I pick up my bag and lock the door behind me. I can continue this conversation while I make my way to the train. “It was early on. I don’t think he heard me, though.”
“And you stuck around?” He hmms to himself, and I wonder what he thinks of me for continuing on with the game when I should have repeated myself and ended it.
I keep asking myself the same question, but I keep coming back to idea of temporary insanity. The man in the bar, the one I thought was real, had a way of making me forget reason. “I guess I got caught up in the moment.”
“Did he speak about himself to you?” Saran asks, quietly, as though he’s calculating each question to get as much information as possible without me being aware.
I screw up my brow at the oddness of this conversation. “No, not really. Or at least not that I know of.” Except there had been that moment when all the lights had come on and we’d talked about my mother. “He told me he lost someone close to him.”
“Last question. Did you know Kaiser, going into the fantasy?”
Oh shit. I hold my breath for a second as I stop on the pavement. Am I about to get him in trouble with his boss? I don’t want his money, but I don’t want to cause him trouble either.
“Allie? You still there?”
“No, I didn’t know him. I mean, I’d met him. I served him drinks, but I didn’t know him. Was I supposed to put that on the intake form? I wasn’t aware I should have disclosed that.”
“Calm down.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “There’s nothing to get worked up over.”
“Is he going to get into trouble because of me?” I cross my fingers as I hurry toward the train station. “It really wasn’t his fault. It was mine. I didn’t like pretending to be something I wasn’t. It got me confused and uncertain. That’s all.”
I can see the train arriving so I bolt the rest of the way, climbing on a moment before it pulls out. “If I can send the money back, I’d just like to forget I took part.”
I’d like to forget the way he looked at me with those green eyes, and the hardness of his kiss that stole my breath away and made me dizzy.
“Leave it with me,” he says and hangs up.
***
I get to work forty-five minutes later. A bar on the outskirts of the city, before the rural suburbs begin, called The Palace.
It’s a real dive. The clientele are nothing like the urban suits at The Den. A row of Harleys is already lined up out the front, a few trucks too. It actually makes me smile as the guy who hired me shows me around. When I’d first moved back to the city, when I was still homeless and looking for work, I’d taken a couple gigs in places like this, but they’d only been temporary, and it wasn’t until I got the job at The Den that I’d been able to get my life back on track. Still, despite applying to every bar reachable by train, this ha
d been the best option and one I could happily deal with.
The groups of built guys sporting more facial hair, tattoos, and piercings than I’ve ever seen in one place give me the once over as I step behind the bar.
“Don’t let ‘em worry you, sweetheart.” The bartender I’ll be working with tonight, gives me a look like he doesn’t expect me to last five minutes. His steely gaze runs over me as he tosses an empty bottle in the trash.
“I’m not.” I watch him as he serves a guy and a girl who perch on the stools in front of him. “They might be rough, but I can handle myself in most situations. People don’t faze me.”
Well, most people. The one thing I enjoy the most about bar work is the variety of customers, and the fact that even the suits who might act all pretentious and stuck up in their everyday life let the façade drop in a place like this. Yep, I’m definitely a fan of reality. I’ve had enough fake bullshit to last me a lifetime.
“I’m Liam.” He gives me a grin as he settles a hip on the counter and thrusts a meaty tattooed arm my way. “It doesn’t take much as long as you show you’re not scared.”
One of the bigger dudes from the table in front of us steps up and orders a fifth of whisky and a beer, practically bending over the bar as though he’s in the very act of trying to intimidate me. That isn’t going to happen.
Four hours later and I’m just another bar bitch. Like Liam predicted, it didn’t take much. A few of them had tried to intimidate me, had made crude observations that Liam had chuckled at as I took it in stride. Tossing my bar rag down, I step away from the bar for a few minutes to check my phone.
It’s only because I want to see if there are any missed calls from Vice. I just want it behind me. Want him behind me. I grip the edge of the counter as I dart a glance at the time. I still do that. Every damn day. It’s like my internal clock is set to go off at midnight after months of him showing up at that time.
