Love, Lies, & Crime: Anthology

by Kimberly Blalock

  Harper fits right in, loosening up as soon as the girls start asking her questions. She answers them the best she can, considering the fact that she doesn’t know who she is.

  “All right,” I interrupt everyone so we can get the meeting over with and get back to making money, “everyone has had a chance to meet Harper. She will be taking care of a few clients that need to be tended to. I think she’s going to be a great addition to the team, and I would appreciate it if you would guide her along if she needs it. Jen, who’s scheduled where this week?”

  I pass the meeting off to Jen, my assistant, and she takes the lead while I sit back and watch Harper’s reaction.

  “London,” Jen starts with a smile, “Parker wants you for his business trip this week. You’ll be leaving for the UK at eight tomorrow morning. Please, don’t forget your passport this time.” London chuckles, throwing her bottle blonde hair over her shoulder. She’s fake and snobby, but the clients seem to love her, so I keep her around.

  “Rochelle, you will be with Congressman Marks on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights at the Marriott. His wife is out of town, so it will be just the two of you this time. You also have a shoot for Maxim on Friday.”

  I suppress my laughter when Harper’s eyes bug out of her head as everything finally hits her. She looks at me and I nod, answering the question in her eyes and silently remind her of the conversation we had in the car before we left the police station. Jen finishes handing out schedules and rounds out the meeting by turning to me.

  The next thing she says must be for Harper’s benefit, because we all know what she preaches is the truth. “And to our fearless leader, the reason we’re all driving around luxury cars and living in amazing places,” all the girls nod, even Harper seems to be warming back up. “You get to see the Senator on Monday as usual, the police commissioner on Wednesday, and you have a meeting with Vogue on Thursday. Everyone except London, who has already done hers, has their standard monthly appointment with the hot doctor man this week. Your times will be texted to you later tonight.”

  I speak up, cutting Jen off. “Please do not miss your doctor’s appointments ladies. If you miss it, you will not be working until you get to him. There isn’t a single reason to miss them unless you no longer want to work for me.”

  “Do we know when Ella’s funeral is yet?” Kelsey asks, her hair falling around her face as she looks at her hands.

  “Next Sunday at four,” I state, “every one of you will be in attendance, no exceptions. I’ve made sure to have Jen clear your schedules so there are no conflicts.”

  I dismiss the meeting and wait for Harper to go into total meltdown mode. I figure this is the part where she tells me to shove my Jimmy Choos up my ass. To my surprise, she doesn’t. She simply sits there, her hands resting on her well-defined thigh.

  “So this is…” she trails off.

  “Yep.”

  “And I would be…”

  “Yep.”

  “And I would make…?”

  I smile, knowing I have her right where I want her. “More than you could ever hope to.”

  “Sex for money,” she ponders.

  “And modeling, yes. We keep the legit business going as well. After all, my father is the Chief of police and I have to keep up appearances. That pays well, too.”

  Harper clears her throat. “I stand by what I said in the car, about what I want and don’t want to be. If it takes sleeping my way off the streets, then so be it.”

  I spin my chair and stand, heading toward the office door with the smile still on my face. “You start next week. Until then, you can shadow Jen. Let’s head home.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  I tighten the belt of my coat around my waist as I follow behind the Senator’s secretary. She opens the door, stepping back just enough to allow me in the room around her. This has become a routine visit so even though she eyes my attire, she doesn’t question me anymore and that’s how I like it. The way I dress used to be a topic of conversation, but since I model as well, it doesn’t come up often anymore. My boots are knee high and my coat falls to just about an inch above them. It’s always invigorating to know that no one knows that there is nothing but skin underneath my white coat.

  The door clicks closed behind me, leaving me alone in the large office. I make my way over to the conference table, push a chair out of my way, and slide myself back onto the glossy surface. The edge of my coat falls to the side as I cross my legs, revealing nothing but bare skin. Just as I lean back, resting back on my hands, the door opens and Senator Brendon Ledger slides in, locking the door behind him.

  My feet swing back and forth in time with his calculated steps. “You don’t have to slide in like that, Mr. Senator.” I cock my head to the side and smile.

  He chuckles as his fingers work to loosen his tie. “Yes, I do. Because the last time I just swung the door open, you were naked and on your knees waiting for me.”

  “Yes,” I giggle, “I was. And if I recall correctly, you liked it.”

  “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” he smirks, “I loved it, but I like it even more when I get to unwrap you myself.” His fingers pull at the belt and slowly begin undoing the buttons on my jacket once he reaches me.

  Somehow I lucked out when it comes to this guy. Most politicians are older, potbellied and are more interested in how to fill their pockets than how to fill what’s between my thighs. Brendon, on the other hand, is in his early thirties, built like a wrecking ball and hung like a horse. He pays our fees with no problem, and we’re both happy when I leave.

  Brendon sucks in a quick breath when he realizes that I have nothing on under my coat. He shakes his head from side to side, never taking his eyes off my chest as he nudges my coat off my shoulders. It pools around my wrists and I leave it there, loving the way my skin heats under his gaze. It’s something that only happens to me when I’m with him.

  His finger presses against my lips before he drags it down the center of my body and circles around my navel. Using his other hand, he uncrosses my legs and steps up between them. My head falls back, hair spilling over my shoulders as his finger continues to drag downward. Just when I think he’s finally going to ease the ache he’s already created between my thighs, he lifts his finger, torturing me. His arm wraps around my body and he lifts me off the table, pulling my coat all the way off. He tosses it onto a nearby chair.

  “I want your ass on the table. I want to be able to look here and see the outline of your perfect body so I can remember everything I do to you today.”

  My body arches into him when he sets me back down on the cold surface and inches me back so I can rest my heels on the table. The chair I pushed out of the way a few minutes ago gets dragged back into position and his suit jacket gets tossed on top of my coat. I lean up on my elbows, stare between my legs and watch him as he moves. Every one of his movements is calculated. Not once does he take his eyes off mine as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Hunger fills his eyes as he looks at me like he’s a starving man getting ready to feast on his favorite meal.

  “See something you like down there?” I tease.

  He smiles, it causes his eyes to shine and the laugh lines around his mouth to appear. I don’t notice this about every client, but Brendon is different. He isn’t hiding anything from a trophy wife at home. He’s single, sweet, and if I wanted a relationship, I know he would be right there bringing me flowers. He doesn’t treat me like a hooker. He also keeps my business safe and is one of the only clients that actually works to get me off.

  His eyes connect with mine, the sweet smile gets replaced with the look of a predator and he grips my thighs with his powerful hands. “Goddamn, I love Mondays.”

  Before I have a chance to say anything back, he dips his head, flicking his tongue out across my clit. My hips lift off the table, following his lips when he pulls back. I have to bite my lip to keep from crying out when his tongue slides from my entrance to my clit and back again. When he adds his f
ingers into the mix it sends me into a frenzy and I lace my fingers through his sandy blonde hair, holding him against me.

  I feel myself climbing higher and higher, my body tightening around his fingers, and just when I feel like I’m going to pass out from pleasure, he stops all his movements.

  “Ahh!” I cry out in frustration.

  Brendon pulls his head out of my grasp and climbs up my body, pressing gentle kisses across my skin until he reaches my mouth. His eyes trace over the shape of my lips. I barely have enough time to take a breath before he leans in and kisses me hard. Exactly how I like it.

  His belt clangs as it falls against the table and after that, the click of his zipper is the only thing I can hear other than the sound of our panting. After he rolls a condom on, he hooks his arms under my knees, pulling me closer. He presses into me, filling me until he can’t push in anymore and holds still, letting us both adjust.

  “Shit, you’re perfect,” he mutters.

  I grin and thrust my hips forward. Perfect is part of my job. It’s how I always wanted men to see me, but to hear it from his lips makes it sound so much better. “Not so bad yourself, Senator.”

  Brendon tosses my legs over his shoulder, bending forward so he can kiss me again. We both groan when he bottoms out inside me. He pulls back until just the tip of him is still inside me, and slams back in. I open my mouth to cry out, but he reaches up and covers my mouth, stifling the noise as he finds his rhythm.

  The conference table inches across the floor with every thrust, and I’m thankful the floor is carpeted in here so no one will hear it scraping. Brendon smirks at me. I know he can tell how close he has me, because every time I tense up, about to come, he slows his pace and drags it out. His eyebrows draw together, sweat forming on his forehead as he tries to hold off his own orgasm.

  His movements become erratic as he thrusts into me. He grabs my hand, sucks my finger into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. When he pulls my finger from his mouth, he presses it against my clit and I take over from there, working my way back to the edge of my orgasm. I’m so close, my entire body trembles and I feel myself start to come when he thrusts into me one final time and begins to pulse inside me.

  Brendon stands once we can both finally breathe again, pulling me up with him and he pushes me toward the bathroom on shaky legs. The condom falls into the waste basket by the sink and I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he washes up and tucks himself back into his slacks. He disappears as I clean up and comes back with my coat. Holding it open for me, he helps me slide it into place and turns me around, buttoning it up with the same unhurried pace he took it off.

  “Same time next week?” I ask with a smile and adjust his tie.

  “Always. But next time, I think I’m going to take you somewhere that I can make you scream.” A shiver runs down my spine from his words. He closes in on me, kissing me quick. “Your paperwork is on my desk.”

  I wink at him and head out, grabbing the file on my way to the door. I make sure my hips sway as I walk away because I know he’s watching me until I set foot in the elevator and the doors close behind me.

  I toss Brendon’s folder onto Jen’s desk when I walk back the office, telling her to file it and check him off our list as she hands me my messages. I flip through them and sit down behind my desk.

  “Did you always know this was what you wanted?”

  The sound of Harper’s voice makes me jump; I didn’t see her sitting in the chair in the corner when I walked in. My hand flies to my chest, covering my rapidly beating heart.

  “Shit, kid. You’re going to give me a heart attack!” I chuckle.

  Harper grins, stands, and sits back down in the chair directly in front of me. The red boat neck dress she picked out this morning fits her like a glove. Between her clothing choices, and her hair—which is no longer pink—she fits in well around here. She looks like she belongs.

  “Sorry. Now, answer my damn question.”

  “For someone so new, you’re awfully mouthy.”

  She cocks her eyebrow at me. “I learned from the best.”

  “OK, I’ll give you that,” I laugh. “Now you wanted to know what? If I always wanted to run a multi-million dollar company? Drive nice cars and live in nice houses? Show up on magazine covers or make men want me? You really need to specify which thing you want an answer for.”

  “Sex for money.” Her eyes drop to her hands, letting me know she isn’t as comfortable with the idea as she lets on. “Did you know that was what you wanted to do?”

  I think about it for a minute before I shrug. “Sex? No, not really. I wanted to be something everyone wanted. Sex just happened to be something I was good at and liked. Something that could get me what I wanted.”

  Her head bobs up and down as she chews on her bottom lip. “Have you ever thought about stopping?”

  I laugh, giving her my full attention. “And do what? Write a book? I can see it now.” I spread my arms wide. “I could call it, ‘The How to Guide to Home Wrecking, without Wrecking the Home’. I could give up all my special little tips that I learned being a high priced pro, so the ladies can spice up their sex lives with their small-dicked, boring husbands.”

  Harper laughs at my title. “I see a hit on your hands.”

  “Except I would never do that. You know why?” She shakes her head and leans toward me. “It would cost me my business,” I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

  “It seems like a good job, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for it.”

  “I know this might not seem like the way you would want to make money, Harper, but I honestly think you’ll change your mind. This isn’t like working a corner. All our clients go through background checks and pay a retainer fee plus what they pay you every time you show up. We don’t accept clients that make under a hundred grand a year. They all undergo doctor’s appointments just like we do for STD testing, so we all stay clean. And no means no around here.”

  She frowns. “What the hell does that even mean? No means no. You have sex for money, doesn’t that hurt your business?”

  “Yeah,” I nod slowly, “it does sometimes. But I’m not going to force any of the girls to be with someone they are uncomfortable with. If you ask any one of the other girls that work on this side of the company, they would all tell you the same thing. They love their job, and if I get a complaint, we investigate.”

  She goes quiet for a few minutes, mulling things over in her head, so I grab the file I was looking at and get back to work. The silence doesn’t last long before she pops up with another question.

  “Did you say you only take on clients that make over a hundred thousand a year?” I nod, confirming what she asked. “But you had an appointment with the Senator today. And the Police Commissioner coming up. I highly doubt they make that much.”

  “They don’t. Which is exactly why I do those meetings.” That and I love Brendon’s cock and the way he fucks me. I shake the thought out of my head and remind myself to text him later to see where he wants to meet next week. “Sometimes you have to grease the wheels to keep things running smoothly. How I see it is, our business is less likely to come out to the public if these people are our clients.”

  “You really think I’m going to like it?”

  I flip through the slips of paper Jen handed to me on my way in, searching for the request I know is in there. When I finally find it, I slap it down on the desk and slide it across to her. “You never know until you try.” I smile when she reaches forward and takes the paper from me.

  “Nathan, huh?” she says as she reads.

  “Mhm, he’s in town for a night. Go get his file from Jen, and learn it. When I come back to the apartment tonight, I’ll answer any other questions you have.”

  I watch her stride out the door gracefully and do exactly what I told her to, giving me time to get back to work on setting up stricter security for the girls.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I push my way through the massive a
mount of people that are attending Ella’s funeral, tipping my head at the few people I know as I go. Harper’s hand sits firmly in mine as I drag her along behind me until we find the rest of the girls. With so many people in attendance, and the fact that this is still an open murder case, the police and security are in full force. My father catches my eye just before I sit down and waves me over. Looking over at Harper, I tell her I’ll be right back, and leave her standing with Jen and Rochelle.

  “Daddy.” I lean in when I reach him and press my lips against his cheek. I push my sunglasses back up the bridge of my nose to keep my already puffy eyes out of view.

  “Between church and this, I get to see you twice in one day. Despite the circumstances I’m a lucky son-of-a-bitch.”

  I can’t help but smile at him. I slip my arm through his when he offers and walk toward a set of trees away from the crowd.

  I chuckle and try to crack a halfhearted joke. “It’s not nice to talk about Grandma like that.”

  “Danielle,” he starts and I can already tell where this is going, “you shouldn’t be here. None of you should be here.”

  I look back over my shoulder, making sure that none of the girls were standing within earshot of us. “Dad, stop. I get that you’re worried. I get that this is an open investigation. But what I need you to understand is these women—me included—have rerouted enough of our lives because of this. We’ve cut back on jobs. We’ve upped security. I’m not going to ask them to miss the funeral of one of their friends.”

  He reaches over, pats my hand gently and sighs, “I know, I know. None of this is fair.”

  “Plus, wouldn’t there be a better chance of this guy showing up with all of us here?”

  “That’s why we’re here,” he whispers. “Now go back to your seat, the service is starting.”

  “Everything all right?” London leans into me when I get back to my seat.

  I grab her hand and squeeze. “Everything is fine.”