The Fantasy Escort operator said the statement would read “Las Vegas Entertainment” which could mean anything from attending a show to visiting a casino. To hiring an escort. She shook her head. The operator informed Helen there would be a flat fee charged for the escort’s time and then associated charges for incidentals, such as club fees, dinner, cabs, show tickets. She had referred to these other services discreetly as a la carte fees. Helen suppressed the urge to giggle, certain she knew exactly the types of services that would be included under that catch-all description.
It was an interesting term to use. One that apparently made customers feel more comfortable in engaging the services of an escort. And also, the point being that the escort would handle everything, but it would be her who really paid.
Illusion. It’s what this city was about.
A knock sounded at the door and Helen swung toward it, her heart hammering. This was it. There was no turning back. If only her stomach would settle back into some level of normalcy. But then there was nothing normal about this situation, now was there? Taking a deep breath, she then released it in an attempt to steady her nerves.
Stepping to the door, Helen disengaged the lock and opened the door. The force of his magnetism struck her like being hit by a speeding bus and she gasped. Darkly handsome, panty-wet sexy, he was even more than she had envisioned.
She thought when she saw him up close without the slight alcohol haze of the bar, he would look different, more—dissipated maybe, considering the lifestyle? That the alcoholic haze would have smoothed the rough exterior of a paid escort.
But that wasn’t the case. Not at all. Thick, dark wavy hair, not a strand out of place, tanned skin, firm jaw, and blazing emerald eyes. Dressed to the nines in a dark gray Armani suit, he was easily any woman’s wet dream.
He smiled and she was almost blinded by the amazing white gleam of perfect teeth.
“Helen?”
She couldn’t find her voice and simply nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Mesmerized, blinded with what she could only call lust. Her nipples tightened painfully beneath her dress. Her body called for sex. Right this minute. To be fucked by this man without preamble was exactly what she needed—what she had come here for.
He held out a hand. “My name is Fallon. I believe you were expecting me.”
Expecting. Wanting. Needing. Slowly, she lifted her hand to accept the expected social greeting. His hand was warm as it clasped hers. Firm. It wasn’t soft, yet it wasn’t severely callused either. It was perfect. As he released her hand, he stroked a finger along the base of her palm and she shivered at the contact.
She wanted him naked. Helen wanted to do all manner of things to his body. She wanted him to do the same to hers. Some deep well inside her was unleashed and rose fast and hard to the surface. Should she just say, “I want to be fucked, so get in here now?”
Warm color flooded her cheeks. No, she couldn’t do that. Not even in these dire circumstances of need.
“You’re looking for a dinner companion for this evening—at least that’s what I was told.”
She gulped and finally found her voice. “Yes. I am. Give me a moment, and I’ll just get my wrap.” Helen turned away and forced herself to walk calmly toward the bed. As she leaned forward to pick up the delicately crocheted shawl, he reached around her and picked it up, having followed her into the room.
His hands caressed her shoulders as he carefully placed the material over them. She could smell a faint thread of expensive cologne and clean male scent.
His fingers pressed against her skin and she felt his breath against the back of her neck.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Helen. Nothing is going to occur that you don’t want to happen. This is all about what you want tonight. All about your pleasure.”
He stepped away, giving her space, and finally she got up the courage to face him. “I’ve never done this before.”
He nodded. “I understand. Your first time. In Vegas? Or obtaining some male companionship?”
“Uhmmm, the latter.”
He uttered a deep, sexy chuckle. “I’m glad you called, Helen.” He reached for her arm and escorted her from the room, pulling the door closed behind them. “We’ll just take it one step at a time, shall we? Maybe dinner, a little dancing.”
His fingers moved in a small circle at the base of her spine, guiding her toward the elevators and easing some of her tension all at the same time.
The trembling taking place in her body could not be attributed to fear, it was a kind of leashed desire and excitement. His touch was soothing and arousing all at the same time.
How this night would end Helen had no idea, but she couldn’t wait to find out.
CHAPTER SIX
It was a surreal evening, something out of a dream. He had been attentive, charming, and mannerly. Everything a woman could want on a first date.
But it wasn’t what she wanted. Yet, she didn’t know how to ask for more. The restaurant he took her to was definitely five-star rated and high above the city, the show they saw was a top-name comedian that she enjoyed immensely. Fallon was a brilliant conversationalist, managing to maintain an even flow, focusing on her life, her likes and dislikes, and yet managing to keep the conversation well away from anything personal about himself.
He then took her to a nightclub and she found him observing her as she watched a pair of vibrant flamenco dancers blaze across the floor.
And now they were back at her hotel and about to close the evening, even though she didn’t want it to end. Not yet. They stopped in front of her door.
She didn’t know what to say, what to do. She was so hot, so needy, and she didn’t know how to ask for what she wanted most. She fumbled in her purse for the card to open her door. Suddenly, he reached over and plucked the keycard from her hand.
Before she could utter a sound, he whirled her around and pressed her up against the wall next to her door, his dark head swooped down and his mouth claimed hers.
Her stomach somersaulted, the flame roared to life. His tongue demanded entrance, she tasted wine and the sweetness lingering from the tiramisu they’d shared earlier. Her purse dropped from her lifeless hands and her arms rose up.
He tasted delicious and she wanted more. He lifted his head to look down at her. One of his hands moved down and pushed up the hem of her dress. A hard hand was on her leg, determinedly pushing her thighs apart.
“You think you want sex, don’t you? You think that will satisfy why you came to Las Vegas.”
Helen’s cheeks flooded with heat. “Isn’t that what you do?”
He leaned down and kissed her lingeringly, his hand rose to cup her buttock, kneading lightly, pressing her against him. Her juices begin to gather between her thighs. Yes, this was what she needed.
He lifted his head, his hands still at work on her body. “It’s not what I’m paid for and it’s not what you need. It may be what you think you need, but I’ve watched you—both last night and tonight.” He pressed her closer.
She quickly glanced down the hallway. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”
His lips curved into a smile as he pressed her closer, and she could feel the ridge of his cock, a rock hard presence against her. Oh, God, she needed him to fuck her.
“You like to watch, Helen. It makes you hot.”
“What? I do not.”
He chuckled. “Yes, you do. You liked watching last night, didn’t you? And you don’t want just sex—you want it dished out with a little excitement attached. Or you wouldn’t be here.”
Fallon’s hand inched beneath the waist of her panties and then he was pushing them down her legs. Her heartbeats grew more rapid. “Inside,” she managed to gasp, even though she was so hot right now, her juices were running down her legs.
His fingers feathered against her pussy lips. “You want it right here in the hall. You aren’t far from coming right now, are you, Helen? The thought that you might be seen—you like that i
dea as well. You want it naughty, Helen. You want to be naughty.”
“No-no, that’s not what I want.” But she knew it was a lie as his fingers glanced over her puffy lips. And when he touched her clit, she thought she would explode right then and there.
“It’s my job to know people. I’m not a prostitute—you can pick up one of them on any street corner if plain sex is all you want. Or ask any hotel attendant for room service and you’ll have a quick fuck waiting at your door. I can give you more, Helen. When I saw you last night, I could tell you wanted what I can offer you.”
“What’s that?” she whispered painfully as she reached for the orgasm that she knew wasn’t far away.
His fingers pushed into her and she almost screamed with the pleasure. Damn him, but he was right. She wanted to reach it here, right now in the hall, with the possibility that anyone could come along and see them. She wanted him to strip her right here. Take her in full view of anyone who might pass by. What was the matter with her?
Yet it was as though he heard her thoughts. He pulled the shawl from her arms and dropped it to the floor. The hand that was not anchored inside her, reached behind her and pulled the zipper down her back and her dress fell forward, exposing her breasts for anyone to see.
Desire so intense filled her at the idea of someone watching them that she thought she would disintegrate right there.
“You see, Helen? I’m right, aren’t I? You’re a secret exhibitionist…and a voyeur.” His fingers spread her as his thumb wooed her clitoris.
Helen couldn’t help responding, thrusting her hips against his hand, gasping for breath. “Yes, oh God, please. I need to come.”
“Here in the hallway? You’d come for me here, right now?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “I can’t stand much more.” Her whole body tingled with anticipation.
The bodice of her dress fell lower and he dropped his head, sucking one of her tight nipples into his mouth and then she did explode, right there. Spasm after spasm consumed her as she shattered, felt his teeth grip and tug at her nipple, and another climax rippled through her before the echoes of the first one had receded.
He pulled his fingers from inside her and with both hands, gripped her ass, keeping her from tumbling to the hall floor, as she gasped for air.
As she came back to herself Helen realized where she was and almost died of mortification. How could she have done that?
She wanted to quickly dress and retreat inside her room, never to step outside the door again. Fallon pressed her back against the wall. “Step out of your panties, Helen.”
The tone of his voice, deep and demanding, left no room for refusal. She did as he said, unable to form cohesive thoughts. He picked them up and pocketed them. “When you bought my services, you purchased something special for yourself. I don’t do routine sex, I do more. Do you think you got what you wanted tonight, Helen?”
Her heart still raced in her chest. Her whole body quivered from the echoing response she still experienced. “I-I’ve never done anything quite like this before.”
“Do you want more? Do you want to find out who you really are beneath all that veneer you use to hide your desires?”
“I don’t know. It frightens me.” She stood there in the hallway, half naked, and somehow didn’t even move to cover herself. It was wild Helen who responded to this man with every fiber of her being as she thrust her naked breasts toward him totally contrary to the words she’d just spoken. Wanton Helen, who wanted everything this man offered.
“But it excites you as well, doesn’t it—the thought of experiencing the taboo?”
She looked into his eyes and found herself drowning beneath the sensual heat. Anything this man wanted to do to her, with her, she was eager to experience.
“This was just a sample. There’s so much more. Did you think you would come to Vegas and one night of hot sex was going to quench that yearning inside you?”
“Yes.”
He pulled the bodice of her dress over her shoulders and zipped up the back. Helen almost collapsed in disappointment. Leaning down, Fallon picked up her purse and handed it to her.
“I’ve enjoyed our time together tonight. I hope you did as well. Tomorrow night, be in the bar at ten o’clock and you may just find out something more about yourself and you’ll see I’m right. Then, if you want more, we’ll arrange something special for you. I think I know exactly what would please you.”
On shaking legs she turned toward the door of her room. He swiped the card and handed it back to her as he opened the door.
He gently turned her to face him. “Lines can get blurred when it comes to pleasure, especially in Las Vegas.” His face was now expressionless as his gaze burned into her. “You pay for my services—and my profession is pleasure. Let me show you what I really have to offer—but remember, it’s business. It’s not personal. Remember that, and we could have a very pleasurable association.”
Fallon leaned down and whispered a kiss against her lips and coaxed her inside the room, then closed the door behind her.
Helen’s brain was on overload, her body replete from the powerful climaxes he’d given her. Yet, he hadn’t used his cock, that member that she had wanted so badly. Was he right? Was it the excitement, the taboo rather than the sex?
Suddenly, nothing was very clear to her hazy brain. Tomorrow night, ten o’clock. What was he going to show her? What was Helen allowing herself to be drawn into?
Her whole body shuddered at the memory of what she’d just experienced. But like Cinderella reminded of midnight, she knew she’d eventually need to return to her life. Eventually.
She tingled as she remembered his last words.
"You pay for my services—and my profession is pleasure.”
You could say that again.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Helen entered the bar at precisely ten o’clock the next night. What she thought she would see, she had no idea. For a man she’d known for such a short period of time, Fallon seemed to have dug down inside her to discover things even she hadn’t surmised about herself.
She didn’t know what to expect—she had not called the Fantasy Escort service to schedule another “date” with Fallon. Yet she couldn’t stop herself from going to the bar. Helen settled onto the same barstool where she’d sat two nights before and ordered a glass of wine. She sipped from the glass, her thoughts on who Fallon really was. He didn’t use a last name and she doubted that Fallon was his real name. She realized he had gotten a lot of information from her, but shared nothing personal about himself. He was definitely smooth, she had to give him that.
“He’s at it again,” the bartender mumbled, shaking his head as he cleaned a glass with a white towel.
“What?” Her thoughts had been centered elsewhere and she asked the question out of habit rather than really looking for an answer.
“Fallon.” The bartender nodded in the direction of the dance floor. “Boy, he’s hot tonight. Wouldn’t mind being a little fly on the wall with that group.”
Helen stiffened and then slowly swiveled around on the stool to search the dance floor. Her gaze roved over the gyrating couples and then stopped. Her gaze widened and her pussy clenched. Fallon again seemed to be the center of attention as he glided around the floor; his attentions tonight were devoted to an attractive couple.
Shock spread through Helen at the realization that it wasn’t just a woman, but a man and woman, because Fallon was indeed attentive to both.
Naughty thoughts flitted through Helen’s head as she tried to wrap her mind around what appeared to be Fallon’s paid engagement for the evening.
As she watched, they stroked each other in lingering, sensual touches. Bodies bent and melded, swiveled and undulated. There was no doubt in Helen’s mind that Fallon must be bisexual as he moved in a seductive fashion around first the woman and then the man. Why that thought didn’t repel her she had no idea. Instead, she found it oddly exciting. Obviously, Fallon was right and
she did like the idea of being naughty.
Unexpectedly, her vision blurred and her mind turned to the vision of Fallon on a bed with the couple and she watched it play out in her mind. Her breathing increased and her pussy flooded with her juices. She wanted to reach down to assuage the desire. She felt so needy, it hurt.
Closing her eyes, she attempted to rein in her erotic thoughts.
“Hello, Helen.”
Her eyes snapped open to encounter Fallon standing in front of her. Sans dress jacket, his white shirt was open at the neck, exposing a nice amount of tanned flesh, his shirt sleeves rolled back.
He grabbed her hand and hauled her off the stool, turning to look at the bartender.
“Hold her place—she’ll be right back.” Then he pulled her out a side door into a back room. Pushing her against the shelves lined with white towels, he pinned her with his body.
“You like watching, don’t you? You couldn’t resist coming here.”
“No,” she rasped out. “You intrigued me. I-I didn’t know.”
“But you do now.” He feathered kisses along her jaw. Fallon’s hand moved beneath her skirt, to her soaked panties. “You’re wet, Helen. You got turned on by watching us dance, didn’t you?”
“Are-are they your clients tonight? Why are you here with me? I didn’t arrange anything with your service for this evening.” She spread her legs instinctively, hot for his touch, burning to have him inside her.
His fingers entered her swiftly and she leaned her head back onto the soft cushion of towels. She pushed her torso against his invading presence.
“Sometimes, a good businessman gives a little something away for free. Just a sample, you understand.” His finger swirled over her clit. “You’d like to watch some more, wouldn’t you?”
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