“I called because I’m meeting him at your restaurant, and I don’t want you to bother us.”
“Cami—”
“No, I’m serious, Rach. You can’t come to the table.”
“But I want—”
“It’s a first date, a blind date at that. The last thing I need is my sister to scare him away before anything happens.”
“Why bring him to my restaurant, then?”
“It was the first place that came to mind when I set it up—I mean, when we discussed where to have dinner,” I say quickly, hoping she didn’t catch my slipup. “Besides, if the guy is a total douche, at least I’ll be somewhere safe and familiar.”
She sighs. “Fine, but you better call me the next morning and spill all the juicy details.”
“I’m not sure there’ll be any to give you.” I laugh nervously. Telling Rachelle that I hired an escort to take me out on a date is the last thing I’ll ever do. Nope. As far as she’s concerned, the date went terrible and I never plan to see him again.
At least part of my lie will be true.
I don’t plan on ever seeing him again.
3
Ben
After picking the girls up from the library, I dropped them off at their mother’s, like I do every Thursday afternoon, and headed back to work. I guess you could say I’m a little bit of a workaholic, but running your own company isn’t an easy task.
When the economy crashed, I was on the verge of bankruptcy and about to lose everything, including my house. The life and stability I’d worked so hard to build after my divorce was crumbling down around me. I was drowning in debt, with no lifeline in sight. It seemed like no matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t get ahead.
Then Jason, an old college buddy, called, and he gave me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
He was in a bind and had heard of my divorce. He needed a filler for his new venture. I wasn’t surprised to find out Jason was running an escort service out of his family’s butcher shop; I knew he’d spent a summer wining and dining women of all ages during college.
His Louisiana Hot Link canceled an hour before he was due to meet up with a client. No one else was available to fill in, and the client was a V.I.P. who couldn’t reschedule, so he called me. Since I wasn’t serious about any of the women in my life, I saw no harm in helping out a friend. And I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to.
I met up with the client, wined her, dined her, and afterwards, I followed her back to her place, and we fucked like champions. The whole experience was something out of the pages of Playboy, and the best part was the pocket full of cash I went home with. Maybe I shouldn’t have been that comfortable with what I was doing, but money talks, especially when you need to make ends meet.
The gig became permanent when the guy I filled in for got stupid with Jason and lost his spot with the service. I didn’t hesitate when Jason asked me to step in permanently. My experience that night was a good one, and it’s all it took to convince me to become the new Louisiana Hot Link on his menu.
The piercing sound of my cell phone fills the small trailer I’ve called an office for far too long. I glance down at the screen and see Jason’s number flashing back at me.
Speak of the devil!
Looking over at the calendar hanging on the wall, I check to see what the date is. It’s Thursday, not my usual night to entertain a date. I wonder if he’s calling to ask me to pick up another client, not that I’m in the mood to do so. Seeing Cami today has me all twisted up inside, and the last thing I want to do is spend any time with another woman.
“What’s up, Jason?” I answer, knowing there isn’t a reason not to answer but all the same racking my brain, trying to figure out what excuse I can use to turn him down.
“Hey, Ben, how’re you doing? How are the girls?”
“All is well. How are things with you?”
“Pretty good. Listen, I was wondering if you have any plans tomorrow night?”
And there it is. Pleasantries don’t last too long; they never do with Jason, at least not when it comes to the business.
“I don’t have anything on the books and nothing happening otherwise. Does one of my regulars need to switch their night?” I ask, hoping it isn’t a last-minute booking. We get our schedule on Mondays when we all meet up at The Brown Bottle. But my schedule hasn’t changed in months, so he knows my Friday is clear. Jason doesn’t usually schedule last-minute bookings, so this is out of character for him.
“No, it’s dinner with a new client.”
Shit, fuck, shit. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I don’t know, man. I’m not really in the mood to take on a last-minute booking, let alone a newbie.”
“I know, man, but believe me when I say you’re going to want this one.”
It isn’t the first time Jason’s given me that line; in fact, it’s the line that got me this gig in the first place. But it’s also something he says whenever he wants me to pick up a new client. Thankfully, I can choose if I want to take on a new client, regardless of their order.
“I honestly don’t have the time to fit another one in. I’m already booked four evenings a week.”
“Do you want to know who it is?”
“You said she’s new.”
“She is, but that doesn’t mean you can’t know who she is.”
“Please, tell me it’s not Veronica.” I’m praying like hell it isn’t my ex-wife. The last thing I need is for her to find out what I do when I don’t have the girls.
“What the fuck, man? You think I’d do that to you? Besides, last I heard, she was pretty happy with Bill.” He pauses, letting my brain come back from the path I started down. “Do you want to know who it is or not?”
“It doesn’t matter who it is. I don’t want to take on another client right now.”
“Not even Cami?” he asks, chuckling across the line. I choke, unable to respond because I’m not sure if I heard him correctly. “That’s fine, Ben. I’ll see if Damian’s free. I’m sure your girl will enjoy an evening with him.”
“What the fuck—” My body locks when he says Damian’s name and then calls her mine in the next sentence. The instinct to beat on my chest and mark my territory surges through me.
“She had no idea who she wanted to order, it being her first time with us. Did you know she was that shy? She stood at the counter shaking like a leaf. I thought she was going to pass out before she could muster the courage to ask about our extra services.”
“You’re lying.”
“No, man, I’m not. Camilla Babcock, the librarian, the one you told me about after that city job you did. I thought you were kidding when you described her. She’s fucking gorgeous,” he informs me, trying his hardest to rile me up. He knows who Cami is and what she means to me.
“Jas,” I growl into the phone. There’s no way he’s talking about my Cami. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Hell, if I didn’t already have plans, I’d take her out myself, find out how those legs feel wrapped around my waist.”
“The fuck you will—”
“Damian will show her a good time. She’ll get her money’s worth. Don’t worry, Ben. She’ll be in good hands,” he barrels on, ignoring my attempts to get a word in. There’s no way I’m going to let anyone near Cami, and if they attempt it, I can’t promise they’ll leave standing up.
“Fuck that. Damian isn’t touching her. Matter of fact, he even looks at her, and he’ll need to clear his calendar for the next two weeks. He won’t be servicing anyone. And don’t you have Rocio to worry about?” I growl into the phone, my blood boiling hot in my veins. “When’s the fucking setup and where?”
“Ben, it’s okay, buddy. We got this—” he starts, ignoring my jab about Rocio.
“Jas, shut the fuck up, man. I’m taking the date.”
“I’d thought you’d be happier about this. I thought you liked this woman.”
“Not gonna talk about this with you. Just send
me a text with everything I need to know.” I exhale loudly, pushing out the irritation he built up inside me. My mind is spinning.
My Cami.
My beautiful goddess hired an escort.
And I’m the man for the job.
4
Cami
When Jason called me this morning to confirm my date, he told me which special he ordered for me. The Louisiana Hot Link. I’m not sure what it means since I didn’t see the menu, but I hope I don’t regret trusting him to choose for me.
Sitting at the table of my favorite restaurant, I can’t remember a time when I felt this nervous. Not even on my wedding day.
It’s just a date, I tell myself. With an escort!
I take a deep breath and remind myself that no one else knows that last little bit but me. No one ever has to know either, not even my nosey older sister, who keeps peeking her head out from the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of my date. I groan loudly, fiddling with my half-empty wine glass. I should have chosen another restaurant to meet up.
I’m not worried about my plans tonight. Thanks to Jason’s advice, I’m waiting to make any decisions regarding what happens after dinner. While sex isn’t off the table, I’m opting to get to know my guy first. I don’t need to add any more pressure tonight.
Nervously adjusting the napkin in my lap once again, I’m looking down at my hands when he approaches the table.
“Camilla?” The way he says my name sends a familiar jolt of electricity through my body. Swallowing hard, I look up at him from beneath my lashes, and my heart stops in my chest. Dark chocolate eyes stare down at me, the very same eyes I secretly hoped would be the ones I’m here to meet.
“Ben?” I gasp. What is he doing here?
“How are you doing?” He looks down at me with a smirk before pulling out the chair across from me and sitting down.
“Um, I’m waiting for someone,” I tell him and quickly scan the room, hoping my date doesn’t walk up at this moment. Allowing my eyes to finally settle on him, I notice the dark suit jacket and can’t help wondering if he’s here with someone. My heart aches a little at the thought of him with someone else, but I push the feeling aside, reminding myself of the reason why I’m here.
“A date?” he asks with a teasing smile, the same one he gives me every time I see him. Sometimes I wonder if he uses it to hide a secret or something.
“Yes, a date,” I clip, not wanting to share anything more with him, wishing he’d get up and leave.
“I have a date as well, in case you were wondering.” He leans forward, picks up my glass of wine, and sniffs it, like he’s some kind of wine connoisseur. “This is a good year. I’m a beer drinker, but I can appreciate a good vintage.”
“Hm.” I sit back in my chair and take him in. Ben has been a mystery to me since the first time I saw him. But it’s his mysteriousness that draws me to him. There is something about him that always puts me at ease when I’m around him. I’ve never felt this way around another man, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s panty-melting gorgeous. But I’m here tonight for a reason, and as much as I like Ben, now is not the time to get lost in the magic of what ifs with him. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I really am waiting for someone.”
“Are you asking me to leave?”
“I thought you said you have a date. Won’t she be mad to find you talking with another woman?”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask her.”
“Ben—”
“Would you be mad if you found your date chatting with another woman?” he questions, leaning back in his chair. It’s a curious question, one that shouldn’t matter, but I give it some thought before answering.
“It depends. This being my first date with him, probably not.”
“Is this a blind date?” He raises an eyebrow, and I shrug.
“If you must know, yes, it’s a blind date.” I’m not sure what it matters, but I’m not going to give him much more information than that. The last thing I want him to learn is exactly how my date came to be. I need him to leave before my date arrives.
“Please tell me you know what this guy looks like, at least. What if he’s some kind of dog?”
“I don’t know what he looks like, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t a dog,” I snip, getting irritated with his line of questions.
“How do you know he hasn’t been here already?”
“Why would you say that?” I ask, but his words strike me in the gut. It’s a thought I had briefly this morning, after my confirmation call with Jason, but I pushed it aside, ignoring the way it made me doubt myself. Now, thanks to Ben, the thought is back, and this time, there is no ignoring it. I glance down at my watch. My date is fifteen minutes late.
What if Ben’s right? What if my date has already been here, saw me, and left because I didn’t meet his expectations? Can he do that? Jason never mentioned a standard for his men to date me.
“You’re taking my suggestion wrong.” He shifts forward and grabs my hand, pulling me from the disastrous thoughts now filling my head.
“What are you doing? I told you—” I try to pull my hand away from his, ignoring the tingles his skin touching mine creates, but he tightens his hold, refusing to let me go.
“Cami, I’m your date,” he says quickly, and my eyes fly to his, widening at his omission.
“You’re my—”
“I’m the Louisiana Hot Link
Ben
“You can’t be,” Cami whispers, and her face falls. She looks at me shocked and worried, trying to piece everything together but unable to comprehend it all.
She looks different from the woman in the library. Her hair is down, and it’s longer than I imagined, hitting her at the middle of her back. Her clothes are tighter, more revealing of her sexy body. Her strapless dress has me wishing she’d worn a sweater. From the moment I walked through the door of the restaurant and my eyes found her alone at the table, I was hard. Uncomfortably hard.
What I’ve learned in the short time I’ve known her is that I like Cami, in all shapes and forms, and seeing her tonight, her skirt showing more thigh than I’ve ever seen from her, I can’t stop thinking about those legs being wrapped around my waist as I pound into her, making her scream my name.
“Why can’t I be?” I clear my throat, shifting my body so my hard cock is hidden underneath the table.
“Because,” she says, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper and leaning forward a little. “My date is—”
“An escort?” I watch as her chest concaves with the air exiting her body because the shock of my words is almost too much for her. Cami doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who needs to pay for a date, but if there is one thing I’ve learned in this business, looks are deceiving. “I work for Jason, babe. I’m your date. Your Louisiana Hot Link.”
Her mouth flaps open and closed a few times, and she blindly blinks at me. My chest aches, and for the first time tonight, I realize I might not be what she is expecting. A divorced father of two who works too much, reads suspense thrillers, and takes women out because they pay him to. I must look like a real winner to her. I let go of her hand, suddenly very self-conscious.
“Ben—” she starts, but I stop her, unable to handle her rejection.
“Look, don’t say anything yet.” I sigh, raking my hand through my hair, thankful I didn’t use any hair product tonight. “I can see I’m not what you were expecting, so if you want, I’ll call Jason and have him schedule someone else for you.”
Mine. The thought of another man with her angers me, but I have to consider what she wants, too. We’ve never gotten to the point where I could stake a claim on her, but given the chance to ever do so, I would in a heartbeat.
I shift my body, getting ready to stand, but she reaches out and grabs my hand, keeping me in my seat. I look at her, and the moment our eyes connect, her entire demeanor changes. She relaxes, and the worry I felt vanishes.
“Stay.” Her voice is soft and gentle, but I
still see confusion in her eyes.
“Cami, I’m sorry if I’m not what you expected. I don’t want to disappoint you,” I tell her honestly because it’s the last thing I want to do. “I wouldn’t have taken this appointment, but Jason…” I trail off, unable to tell her why Jason really wanted me to be her date.
“Did you know it was me?”
“Yes.” I nod.
“But you came anyways.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Why?”
“Does it bother you? Me knowing it was you tonight.” I ignore the “why” because it will make things too complicated right now.
“I guess not. It’s just… I never would have thought you were… That you did this kind of thing.” I laugh lightly, watching her cheeks flush from my reaction. “I mean, not that I’m judging you or anything, but you’re a good-looking guy—”
“I shouldn’t have to escort beautiful women?”
“I didn’t mean to imply—” She slaps her hands over her mouth, making me laugh louder this time. “What you do on your dates—”
“Cami, it’s okay.” I reach across the table and grasp her hands, trying to calm her. “I take it you didn’t look over the menu?”
“I didn’t,” she breathes, her body tense and wound up. We both fall silent and sit staring at each other, trying to figure out what to do next. Being the gentleman the menu describes me as, I wait for her to decide what happens next, even though my instinct to reach across the table and kiss her senseless boils under the surface.
I hope she decides to stay, to pursue this, because I want this woman. More than any other woman I’ve ever been with. The idea of finding myself between her glorious long legs tonight, tasting her, fucking her, had me relieving myself more than once before my arrival. Not that it helped; the tightness in my pants tells me as much.
“So, what now?” she asks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“It’s your call.” I can’t help the smile that slips onto my face as I imagine running my hand through her dark silky hair, gripping it at the roots for a little tug. I wonder if she’ll purr or growl from the action. She eyes me carefully, fingering her glass of wine.
Slow Burn (All Heart Series) Page 2
