CE O

by M T Stone

  “I’ve never been equated to Mother Teresa, but I just wanted you to know that in my mind, I did it for the right reasons. That’s why when things got out of control, I shut it down. I even told Cindy that I didn’t want any more referrals.” He leans forward and continues to look into my eyes.

  “Okay. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say,” I admit, not wanting to say the wrong thing. It’s not like he has to justify anything to me. I’m not even an actual employee at this point. Just a lowly intern.

  “You don’t have to say a thing. Your face says it all.” He stands up, grabbing both plates and exiting to the kitchen. I’m not sure exactly what he saw on my face, but I imagine it was some sort of judgment. That’s something that I got from my mother, a judgmental tone complete with facial expressions. I have never figured out how to shut it off.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, joining him in the kitchen. “I don’t mean to be judgy. It just comes naturally, a result of growing up with my mother.”

  “Our mothers will probably click instantly,” he replies, taking my hand. “I just want you to understand that I wasn’t simply a gigolo, as you like to call it. I’ve never had an STD, and as of five months ago, it’s relegated strictly to the past. I’ve been totally celibate ever since.”

  “Five months and your phone still lights up like a Christmas tree?” I reply, seriously dumbfounded. “I thought maybe you were still doing it on the side.”

  “No. Tonight is nothing compared to how it used to be. Most of them have taken the hint and given up,” he states, pulling the phone out of the drawer. “I haven’t turned on the ringer since it was new.” He clicks the power button, and at least a half-dozen texts and missed calls come through. “I save all of them so I can contact them for marketing purposes. I figure I might as well get something out of it.”

  “I think you’ve already gotten plenty out of it.” I pan the windows with the incredible view. “Can we go out on the deck?”

  “Of course. It’s a beautiful night.” He grabs the remainder of the wine and gestures toward the door. “We don’t get many like this.” The look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine, and not in a bad way. It’s a look that instantly creates tension between my thighs. I’ve never been around anyone who can do this to me. He’s never had an STD, so that means he’s always been careful. He hasn’t done it in five months. Most of all, he claims to have a perfect track record. Based on the dildo test, I might be up for seeing if he can do it for me. Did he say he’s actually been celibate for five months?

  Chapter 7

  Rex

  The fact that Felicia is still here is nothing short of a miracle. I take it as a sign that either she is still interested in me in spite of everything or I never had a shot in hell. In which case, I’m not so sure I want to keep her around for more than a short-term position. I hate to say it, but if I can’t have her, it would be torturous to work with her on a regular basis. But I guess that’s why I offered her a three-month internship in the first place. If things become uncomfortable between us, it will be over by the end of the summer. At the very least, maybe I’ll get a more functional catalog out of the deal.

  As we sit out on the deck talking and laughing, I’m surprised by how much I enjoy her company. When she first came into my office, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that she had a stick up her ass, but I may have misjudged her. “You’re a lot more fun to hang out with than I would’ve guessed,” I finally admit as the wine buzz takes hold.

  “And you’re apparently not as sleazy as I thought you might be,” she retorts with a grin.

  “Sleazy? Another nice word to go along with gigolo.” I narrow my eyes and take another gulp of wine. “You sure are good at insulting me, even if you aren’t trying.”

  “Sorry, what words should I have used instead?” she asks, catching me by surprise.

  “Hmm.” I slump back in the chair to give it a moment of thought. “I’m a sexual healer and I’m charismatic,” I offer as the perfect synonyms for her insults.

  “Charismatic doesn’t work,” she says, shaking her head and smiling. “Because you’re every bit as charismatic as I thought you’d be. I probably should’ve worn a chastity belt or something like that.”

  “So, you’re scared that you won’t be able to keep your panties on?” I sit back up in my chair, hit with a sudden burst of optimism. “I thought I was fucked in that department after the sext message. Or I guess it would be not fucked.”

  “Well, you actually caught me at a very vulnerable time,” she admits, as if I hadn’t already figured that out. “I totally get why Kip dumped me for Becca. She’s fun, wild, and sexual. I’m none of those things.”

  “Really? Didn’t I just say that I was having fun?” I ask, wondering why she keeps ignoring my compliments.

  “You did, but you’d have a lot more fun with Becca. She’s a total riot.” She casts her eyes down at the deck.

  “But earlier, you were saying that she was a slut who always tried to steal your boyfriends,” I counter, trying to figure out why she thought I would like her friend more than her.

  “But guys are always hitting on her when we go out.” She sulks. “They never hit on me.”

  “And you don’t know why?”

  “No. What’s wrong with me?”

  “Most guys like a sure thing because they don’t want to get shot down in front of their friends.” I reach over and pat her on the knee. “They see you, my dear, as a challenge. It’s a proven fact that the most beautiful women in the bar get hit on the least. Guys are afraid to approach you.”

  “Hmm,” she says, taking a moment to absorb my words. “I just thought it was because they liked her better.”

  “She might get hit on more, but I guarantee if you asked ten guys which of you they would rather marry, they would all pick you.” A subtle smile emerges on her otherwise sullen face. “Why do you think you’re boring and no fun?”

  “Because that’s what everyone always tells me.”

  “Everyone? You mean Kip?”

  “Yeah, he actually said that he once owned a blow-up doll that was more fun in bed,” she admits, her eyes instantly turning glassy.

  “For the last time, Kip is an asshole. Maybe if he were better in bed, he would’ve inspired you,” I reply, wanting to change her frame of mind. “I’ve always felt that if a partner isn’t responding, I must be doing something wrong. Then I work to correct it. It’s not rocket science.”

  “You and Kip are nothing alike,” she says with another sigh. “I think that’s why I’m interested.”

  I take her hand in mine after hearing the word interested. She doesn’t need to say anything more. I’ve seen the look in her eyes, but until now, it’s been a little difficult to interpret the vibe she’s been giving off. The fact that I was comfortable leveling with her and that she didn’t flee when I admitted to my previous profession is impressive in itself. The whole time I was a sex surrogate, I kept wondering what type of an impact it would have on my future relationships. I know there are many women who would consider me damaged goods and would never give me a chance. I’m honestly surprised that Felicia isn’t one of them.

  “I need a scotch on the rocks to cut all the sweetness,” I tell her after noticing a shiver. It gets cool quickly after the sun goes down. “Lets go inside. Would you like something else?”

  “I’ve never tried scotch. Maybe it’s about time,” she replies with a mischievous look.

  “There’s never a bad time to try scotch for the first time.” I reach above the bar to retrieve a bottle from the back of the cabinet. “Tomatin is finished in a sherry cask, so it doesn’t have as much of a bite as the others. It’s a good place to start.” She arcs an eyebrow, seeming unconvinced by my words. I fill her glass with ice before adding a few fingers of the amber liquid. “If it’s too strong, just let the ice melt.”

  “I’ve never drunk hard liquor without mixing it,” she says, hesitantly accepting the glass.<
br />
  “The only thing I would mix with scotch is water. Otherwise, you ruin it,” I explain. “Just take a little sip and give me your first impression.” I have to laugh as she carefully puts it to her lips as if she’s about to taste battery acid.

  “Wow, that’s not too bad,” she says after wetting her lips with it. “I was expecting it to be horrible, but that little hint of sherry is nice.”

  “That’s about as good as it gets for a first taste.” I hold my glass up. “Cheers to another future scotch drinker.”

  “That might be a bit premature, but yes, I might have inherited a taste for it from my father.” A subtle sadness takes over her eyes. “It’s the only thing I ever saw him drink.”

  “Tell me about your dad,” I implore since I haven’t heard a thing about him other than the fact that he and her mother are divorced.

  “He started a small software security company in the eighties that turned into a giant over the next twenty-five years.” Her eyes turn toward the floor. “After he got bought out by his biggest competitor, he became a complete whack job. It was like a mid-life crisis on steroids. The last I heard, he had bought his own island and was living there with his girlfriend who’s a couple of years older than me.”

  “William is your father?” I ask, knowing immediately who she’s talking about. A video of him went viral just before the last election where he appeared to be unshaven and a bit looney, looking for support to run for president. Something tells me his campaign never found its first backer.

  “Scary, huh?” she replies in a soft voice. “I just pray that I didn’t inherit those mental issues. Hopefully, it was simply a result of too much stress, which is what Mom blames it on.”

  “Sometimes, people do crack from stress,” I tell her, having come close myself. “My life instantly became hell after the video of those women talking about me went viral. Someone posted my phone number in the comments and all hell broke loose.”

  “So that’s what forced you into celibacy,” she says in an ah-ha moment.

  “Pretty much. I got caught up in it and all the nasty things that people were saying about me.” The pain instantly floods into my chest and I swallow hard, not wanting to lose it in front of her. “Anyway, after not sleeping for about ten days, I thought I was losing my mind. I was actually thinking of going into hiatus like your dad, so I bought a nice little three-bedroom house out on Camano Island.”

  “Dad went a lot farther away than that,” she replies with a hint of anguish. “Do you still have it?”

  “Yeah, but I only spent a week out there before I became deathly bored.” I open a drawer and pull out a notebook. “I did come back with a complete business plan for Bettergasms.com though.”

  She opens the cover and begins paging through it. “You even created cash flow projections and a point by point marketing plan? Impressive.”

  “You sound like an investment banker,” I gasp, blown away by the fact that she would pick up on those things so quickly.

  “Instead of reading bedtime stories, my dad used to explain cash flow statements and balance sheets to me,” she replies with a giggle. “Seriously, I was the only high school kid who knew how to calculate PEG ratios.”

  “And yet, you went into fashion merchandising?”

  “Fashion is one of the most profitable businesses in the world,” she says with an incredulous look. “Where else can you command eighty percent profit margins?”

  “Adult toys,” I reply with a wink. “I think you and I were destined to meet.”

  Felicia

  Destiny. That’s a big concept. In many ways, Rex is exactly the type of guy I need in my life. Someone who is fun but also has a mind for business. My father was all business and never knew how to relate to the rest of us when he wasn’t talking about it. I know that’s why he eventually lost it. Once he sold his business, he had nothing to occupy his mind. When you first meet Rex, he gives off the vibe of a smart guy who owns a surf shop and hangs out all day selling boards to his buddies. Once you get to know him, you quickly realize there are quite a few layers beneath the surface. His relaxed attitude is probably a result of having a surgeon for a father and a mother who is a psychiatrist. I can’t imagine how little fun that would’ve been. At least I had Mom to balance out Dad. She was a little more fun, except when she was mad, which was most of the time. Looking back, we maybe have more in common than I thought.

  “I can’t believe how easily that went down,” I say as the ice cubes slosh around freely in the bottom of the glass. “Can I have just a little bit more?” This is totally against my better judgment, but this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Besides, it’s been a long time since I had a nice buzz like this. I don’t want it to end.

  “I’ll give you a smaller one this time. Even though it tastes pretty mild, it still has a powerful kick,” he informs me as he pours a couple more shots into each glass and adds additional ice. “It’s never a good idea to mix wine and hard liquor . . . but I do it all the time.” He flashes that magnetic smile that makes my insides melt. He has such gorgeous brown eyes and they have a warmth that simply obliterates my defenses.

  “Here’s to women’s fashions, sex toys, and eighty percent margins,” I say, holding up my glass this time. “I think it’s an obvious match that has been overlooked.”

  “I hope you’re right,” he replies, tapping his glass against mine. “And to scotch.”

  “The ultimate elixir for dealing with uptight women,” I add, laughing so hard I actually snort. “Oh, my God, I haven’t done that since I was a kid!”

  “You just couldn’t get any cuter than you are right now.” He drains his glass and sets it down on the counter. “I don’t think you should drink any more though. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret in the morning,” he says softly, taking the glass from my hand.

  “I’m going to do it either way, and I don’t think I’ll regret a damn thing.” I take a step toward him, leaving us nose to nose. I stand completely still, taking in his essence. Everything about this man is turning me on like no one ever has before. He smells sweet and musky at the same time, and his five o’clock shadow only adds to his masculinity. His lips touch mine and linger longer than I expect, leaving my scotch-drenched lips begging for more. “I need to know what all that fuss is about.”

  “This time is going to be a little different from most,” he says, wetting his lips.

  “Why?” I pull back just slightly, studying his eyes.

  “Because for the first time in a very long time, it will be for real. I’ve wanted you since the second I laid eyes on you,” he whispers. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

  “That has to be the scotch talking.” I giggle. “Combined with five months of celibacy. The combination has obviously made you a bit delusional.”

  “I might be a bit pent-up, but I’m far from delusional,” he asserts, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close. “I’ve never met a girl quite like you. You’re so much different than I thought you would be.”

  “Shh.” I lean back and put my fingers to his lips. “Now is not the time to remind me how far I am outside my comfort zone.” He shrugs his eyebrows and gives me a look that I’ve only dreamed of receiving. His hand glides up my back and cradles the back of my head as he kisses me with a passion that reminds me of a Clark Gable movie. My body tingles from head to toe as we explore each other’s lips for the first time and every worldly thought vaporizes into thin air. “Wow,” is the only word that escapes my lips as we part. “No one has ever kissed me like that.”

  “I have a feeling tonight will be the first time for a lot of things,” he replies, caressing the side of my cheek with the back of his fingers and gazing into my eyes. “You deserve to be cherished, to be happy, and to be thoroughly loved,” he adds, causing my heart to completely melt.

  “I have never wanted anyone the way I want you right now,” I whisper back, telling the absolute heart-fe
lt truth. I have never been more excited about anything in my entire life. I honestly think I might be experiencing true passion.

  Chapter 8

  Rex

  Felicia is the first woman who has been in my bedroom in years. That was the first rule—I always went to the client’s home. My second rule was never dating anyone, because I couldn’t imagine finding a woman who would truly accept my profession. Maybe I was wrong, but there really wasn’t any room for a relationship outside of work anyway. Leading her to the foot of my bed, I feel the anticipation building within me. With clients, there was always the pressure to deliver a positive outcome, but this is completely different. Not only do I want her to have a fantastic experience, but I want her to beg for more instead of being satisfied and getting on with her life.

  She gives me a hesitant smile as I cup her cheek and gaze into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for the last nine days,” she replies, referring to how many days it’s been since we first met. “Since having my first orgasms with that dildo, I’ve been thinking about whether a real man can do it for me.” A playful smile pops onto her lips as she’s impressed by her own wit.

  “I’m sorry, but that’s why I let you try it out,” I confess. “I was hoping you wouldn’t be able to live without it.” I turn her away from me and begin to unbutton the back of her dress. “I love these short skirts you wear. They’re even hotter when you’re barefoot,” I whisper, kissing the side of her neck.

  “You’re giving me goose bumps.” She giggles, shrugging away from my lips. I love a woman with a sensitive neck. I unhook her bra and guide it, along with her dress, down her arms and onto the floor. My cock strains against my clothing as I run my hands down the sides of her body, stopping at her shapely ass, which is accentuated by a tiny black thong. Kip must be out of his fucking mind is my only thought as I move back up her body to cup her breasts while going back to kissing her neck.