The Escort: BBW Romance (The Escort Series Book 1)

by Raines, Harmony

  "So what do you like doing?" His voice cut through her reverie.

  "Doing? Well I work in banking, there's not much to like about that, other than the money I guess."

  "Life's not all about work, Max. What do you like to do, in your spare time?"

  That question stumped her. "Well, I used to like to dance."

  "Used to. Does that mean you don't any more?"

  "Work kind of took over my life. When I got promoted I was expected to be in the office before everyone else, and I usually end up leaving after them too."

  "So you enjoy being in charge?"

  "Not always." She blushed furiously, thinking how much she would love for him to be in charge of her body, of her whole self, bending her to his will. "But being a woman," she stumbled on, "It seems I'm expected to work twice as hard, put in lots of overtime, but I still don't get invited to the ball games. Try as I might, I will never be one of the guys."

  "Thank heaven for that. I much prefer you as a woman." He smiled at her obvious embarrassment. "You need to learn how to take a compliment. You're a very attractive woman Max. I can't believe you don't know that."

  "I... Oh. Is this part of your spiel, you know butter her up, flatter her to make her feel better about herself?"

  "You think I'm that shallow?"

  "No, but this is your job, isn't it? My line of work is money, and account numbers, yours is being nice to desperate women."

  "This is not a job. And I don't think you're desperate. I think you've spent a long time working on getting yourself where you are today. You should be proud. But you also need to see that life has more to offer than work."

  "You sound like Robin."

  "And who's Robin?"

  "My friend, the one you spoke to... she arranged all this."

  "Oh, Robin. Of course. So what's her advice?"

  "That I should change my priorities if I don't want to end up a lonely spinster. It was her idea, all this. I wanted her to come with me to tomorrow's dinner. She said we would look like a pair of lesbians."

  "And are you?"

  "Am I what?" Max suddenly realised what he was asking. "Oh. No. Not at all. No lesbians here. Not that I have anything against them," she hastily corrected.

  "I am glad to hear it."

  Max blushed, the intent in his voice obvious. But on this she was sticking to her guns. There was no way she was going to pay for sex."

  Silence covered them again, only broken when their first course arrived. It looked beautiful, it also looked far from filling, and her stomach gave an involuntary growl. It yearned for something satisfying and filling, she had only come here to impress her escort. It seemed faintly ridiculous now, and the expression on his face summed up her own emotions. A pizza would have been much better, but it was too late now.

  "That was delicious," he said, having finished his starter in two mouthfuls.

  Max giggled. "I hope the main is a little more substantial."

  "So you don't dine here regularly?"

  "No. One of my clients owns the place. I thought it would be a good place for us to talk, and get our story straight."

  "Ahh, our story. So how did we meet?" He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to it. Her body threatened to explode, her eyes dilated as she watched those full lips touch her skin lightly.

  "I... W... Where did we meet." She wondered what he had done to her, in that one moment he had shocked her body awake. Only when she looked up to see Phil crossing the restaurant towards the rest room did she realise what he was doing, and how she had over reacted. But he didn't let it her go, turning her hand over and tracing his fingers around in circles while his eyes met hers, full of humour, fully aware of what he was doing to her body.

  "Yes, Max. Where did we meet? I like the beach. Perhaps you were there, in the ocean, and I was walking along, unable to resist the way the water played around your body. Then by chance I saw you again on the evening, all alone in a restaurant, waiting for someone, something. And at that moment I knew you were waiting for me."

  Max cleared her throat. And what then?"

  "Now it's your turn. Tell me your fantasy."

  "Fantasy. I... Oh, here's our food."

  Hastily snatching her hand away she put it firmly under the table, holding the napkin tight, gripping it as though her life, or her sanity, depended on it. How easy it would be to fall in love with Dan, to believe his words of romance. This should be so easy, but she was falling for him. He was nothing like the men she met through work, he was so much more attentive, and so much more charming.

  "Thank you," Dan said, looking at his meal.

  Max stifled a giggle. "They should bill this place as the prettiest food in town."

  "I was wondering where the rest of it was. If I'd have known I would have eaten before I left home."

  She giggled again. "I am sorry. You are suffering because I stupidly wanted you to like me."

  "There's nothing stupid about that. But I'm not the kind of guy you have to impress."

  She sobered then. "No. Of course not. I forgot."

  "Hey. I didn't mean it like that." He sighed, and stroked the back of her hand, which gripped her knife tightly as the sensations travelled up her arm, down her body and deep into her heated core. "I like things simple. Simple food, simple pleasures."

  "So are you going to tell me anything about yourself other than you like things simple? Or is that too personal?"

  He was attempting to take his perfectly presented dinner apart, looking guilty as though he was dismantling a work of fine art. "I thought we were supposed to be getting our story straight."

  "I think I'm a little too concerned about Phil overhearing our plotting. So let’s go for more general stuff."

  "OK. Favourite colour?"

  "Blue."

  "Green," he said, finally putting a small piece of food into his mouth. "It's certainly good. I could do with double portions though."

  "Eat it real slow, and savour it."

  "Will that make me feel fuller?"

  "No." She laughed as he exaggerated chewing his food. "OK. My turn. In honour of your complaints about this very expensive restaurant. What is your favourite food?"

  "Pizza."

  "Snap."

  "Ahh, but not just any pizza. When we were kids I helped my dad build this pizza oven in our backyard. We spent years making up these different concoctions. You know, things that should never be on the same plate, let alone together on a pizza." His hands mesmerised her, he used them when he talked to emphasise movement and add expression, to his words. Right now they were showing her how he would sprinkle mozzarella on top of his spaghetti sauce pizza.

  "And that was your favourite."

  "For a while. But we never made the same one, my dad always got us to experiment."

  She wanted to ask who "we" were, to ask about his siblings, but it seemed too intrusive. But she could imagine being there, being part of a family that did things together, something she had missed out on.

  "So what about you? Favourite food, and why."

  Max found it hard to talk about herself, especially when her life seemed empty of the colour and flavour of his. But she gave it a go, caught up in his infectious story. "Chinese food."

  "I can relate. We visited Chinatown one time. All the smells, the sounds."

  "I mean actual food in China. We lived there for six months when I was a child."

  "Wow. That must have been cool."

  "Not so much. My dad worked the whole time. He was in banking too, only he travelled and we followed. My mom was a bit like Phil's wife. A trophy he took with him wherever he went. When I came along I went with them until I was old enough to be sent to boarding school."

  "Boarding school. That must have been tough."

  "You get used to it. After a while it doesn't seem strange."

  "Is that why you went into banking?"

  "Because of my father? It might be. I've never thought of it. I mean I don't do the job I do to impress
him, or anything. There's no way that would ever happen because I'll never be as successful as him."

  "Success in business isn't everything. My dad lived his whole life doing the same job, never had the need to better himself. My parents are happily living in the same house they brought us up in."

  "I envy you that. I never had a home. My dad travelled until he retired. Then he bought this awful mansion with so many rooms you'd get lost. But it's not a home, it's a status symbol. Sometimes I wonder if that was why he sent me away. he married my mom because she was beautiful, and a good hostess. I must have been such a disappointment, always frumpy, never the sweet little girl he dreamed of." She looked down at her empty plate. "Damn that got depressing quick. Do you want dessert? Or have you had enough of my company?"

  He reached over and placed his hand over hers, leaving her with the sudden desire to cry. "Do you know what I would really like?"

  She shook her head, unable to speak.

  "To take you to a club I know. Where we can dance and really get to know each other."

  In her head she was saying no, this was not part of her well thought out, controlled plan. Yet her mouth said, "Yes", and when he smiled, she found herself smiling to.

  Chapter Three

  He looked uncomfortable while she paid the bill. Funny to think it affected his pride, considering all the times he must have escorted women who picked up the tab. She liked the idea he had a strong male pride hidden deep inside. Surely over time he should have got used to everything being paid for by his clients. Max stopped her mind wandering to all the other things his clients paid for.

  "Do you think we should say goodnight to Phil?" Max asked, giving Dan a malicious smile.

  His mood lifted. "You are a wicked woman, Max."

  Light on her feet, and in her heart, she let the closeness of his body wrap around her as he pulled the chair out for her to leave the table. For a moment she leaned back into him, feeling the heat of his body, and breathing in the scent of him. Thankfully he wasn't drenched in expensive cologne, instead a musky smell, with a hint of citrus excited her senses. It mingled with something else, she couldn't quite pin down, but it made him unique.

  "Enjoying yourself there?" he asked.

  Her eyes flew open, she hadn't even known she had closed them, and her body jolted forward. He laughed, low and sexy, inflaming her body. For the first time she considered if it would be worth sacrificing her pride to pay him to make love to her. Those strong hands touching her body, stroking her flesh, his slim hips driving himself into her heated sex. Swallowing hard, she chased the image away, anchoring herself into the present.

  "The wine made me a little light headed," she said, and wanted to run to the powder room, but too late. He slipped his big hand over hers, and they threaded their way across the room to Phil.

  "Goodnight, Phil," Max said. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

  "You too, Max, Dan." He nodded at Dan, before his gaze dropped to where Dan had slipped his arm around Max, pulling her tightly back against his body. The unmistakable press of his hard cock against her back made her start forward, but he held her in place with his strong arm.

  "I intend to, Phil. Max and I certainly have plans for the rest of the evening. I only hope she's fit for work in the morning." He winked at Phil, gave Amy a smile, which had the desired affect of making her sit to attention and gaze after him greedily while he eased Max out of the restaurant.

  "Don't laugh," he said, his arm wrapped around her shoulder while they walked past the restaurant. "They are still watching."

  She couldn't help it, tilting her head she looked at Phil and Amy through the restaurant window. Designed to be a tantalising glimpse inside the world of expensive dining, the big glass window had frosted panels to break up the view inside. It provided Max with a slide show, which unfolded at each glance she caught of them through the clear glass. First they were both staring at Max and Dan, then Phil turned, and said something to Amy, she didn't give him her attention. His face grew redder in the next snapshot, Amy slowly turned to face him, a wistful smile on her face. Her last fleeting look showed Phil, leaning forward, almost pleading with his wife, who stared at him haughtily down her nose. Never again would she feel jealous of Phil.

  "Thank you, Dan."

  "My pleasure. I believe it took him down a peg or two, don't you?"

  "Yes. I do." They walked back along the road, and Max saw her car parked across the road from them. "Listen, there's my car. I should go home and get some sleep before work tomorrow. I've had a lovely evening." She let the words trail off, not knowing what she hoped his response would be.

  "A lovely evening. Wow, my company is that bad?"

  "No. Not at all."

  "So you're just trying to play it safe?"

  She ducked her head to avoid his eyes. "I do have work tomorrow."

  "If you go in to work tomorrow all fresh, Phil will know we were lying about our plans for this evening. I want you to go into work tomorrow and for them all to know you had a late night. That's the kind of thing you can't fake, unless you're a very good actress."

  "Dan, I don't know what I'm doing. Honestly, this scares me. I never lie."

  "He leaned close and whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her neck, sending goosebumps along her spine. "Then let's make it the truth."

  She pulled away, her eyes fixed on his lips as she spoke. "Dan, I can't sleep with you."

  He laughed. "That's not what I was asking." He held out his hand for her. "Come with me, Max. Let your hair down, dance with me, free the woman inside of you."

  Cross with herself for even mentioning sex, of course he didn't want to sleep with her, even for money, she wanted to take her keys from her purse, and run back to her car. To her safe life. But he tilted his head, and smiled, so completely genuine, she understood why he must be very successful as an escort. He made her feel good about herself, attractive, and the woman inside hammered on her chest to be freed by him.

  For the second time that night she took his hand and let him lead her off into the unknown. Promising herself she would not question her decision again. Putting her inner voice on hold, she walked hand in hand with him, past her car, and on along streets she had never walked, into parts of town she avoided. This was an adventure, and with each step she evolved into something new.

  "Where did you grow up?" she asked.

  "Here, in the city. I live close to my parents, and the rest of my family." His voice shifted slightly at the last part of his sentence.

  "So you're a close knit family?"

  "Yeah." He looked into the distance. And then said, "Do you want a burger? Frank here sells the best burgers in the city."

  "I have just spent a small fortune on dinner, and you're offering me a burger from a street trader?

  He stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, I never thought. I didn't mean to offend you." He frowned when he saw her hard set face.

  She burst out laughing. "I got you. perhaps you are going to be a good, or maybe a bad, influence on me."

  Laughing with her they crossed the street. "I aim to unleash the hidden bad girl in you, Max. Although she's only allowed out when I'm around. I don't want to get blamed for ruining your life or anything."

  "Deal. Now, let's get that burger, I'm starving."

  They stood in line, Max rummaged in her purse for some cash.

  "No," he said, pushing it aside and getting out his wallet. "This is on me. I think I might be verging on being a male chauvinist, but I hate women paying for things. My dad would have a fit."

  "I'm confused. I thought the point of this was that I paid you. Is that not how it works?"

  He shifted uncomfortably. Looking into her eyes, he opened his mouth to say something. Then he looked away, and simply said, "Yeah. You’re right, that's how this has to work. But I'm still buying the burgers. My treat."

  They stood awkwardly in line. The easiness between them completely gone. Max wrapped her arms around her body, hug
ging herself, feelings of insecurity returning. What was going on with him? This should be easy, Robin said he was very experienced and professional, yet she had hit a nerve. In trying to make it better she said, "You're a great guy, Dan. And worth every penny, just for making me feel good about myself. You would make a good therapist you know?"

  He smiled at her, his gaze travelling down her body. "You make it easy, Max. I want you to know I'm having fun too. This is not how I expected the evening to turn out. I want you to know that."

  Puzzled, she tried to read his expression. "Dan, I..."

  "Next, please. Oh, hey Dan, not often I see you out on the town. What can I get you?" The burger guy interrupted her, and by the time they were walking away with their burgers, with everything on, at Dan's insistence, it was forgotten, the easiness returned, and he took her to sit in a small park sandwiched between tall houses in an old part of the town.

  "Favourite childhood memory?"

  "Wow. That's a tough one," she said, taking a bite of her burger and thinking while she chewed. The meat was perfect, Frank would put the chef at Brantana's to shame.

  "Too many to choose from? I'll bet all that travelling must have given you experiences the rest of us could only dream of."

  "Funnily enough, no. You forget so much from your childhood. Mainly I remember feeling lost, left to fend for myself in strange schools, or having tutors who didn't really care about the little girl they would only know for six months."

  "Sounds like you’ve seen the whole world. The furthest I've ever been was the south coast. I remember the warm sand beneath my feet, and the ocean, so cold it took your breath away."

  "You've never left the country?"

  "Nope. You make me feel like a country hick."

  "Sorry." She finished chewing. "For what it's worth, that's not how I see you."

  "Thank you, Max. Now, back to my question."

  "I'll think about it while you tell me yours."

  "OK. But I'm not going to let you off the hook."

  "I never expected you to," she said. "So... go on."

  "Christmas. I was seven, and my dad asked me to help him get a tree. We went out to my uncles place, and spent a couple of hours selecting the right tree, and chopping it down. It was the biggest tree ever. I don't know how we managed to get it home, we didn't have a truck, but my dad was so determined. Getting it in the house was even harder, there was no way we could get it in the front door and turn it to get it through into the lounge. Anyway, between us we got it in through the window, our neighbours helped. While we were out my mom and sister had spent the afternoon baking, and everyone stayed over while we decorated that tree."