She took another slow drink of what I could now smell was whiskey. “I’ve seen you dance many times, Billy is it?”
I chuckled. “Oh yeah? I’m guessing you like what you saw otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”
She laughed too. I liked the sound of it. Rich and low. Like her speaking voice. She really was hot. “I liked what I saw. More than that, I loved it.” She looked up at me. “I’m assuming Billy isn’t your actual name.” She held out her hand for me to shake, which I did so a little awkwardly. “My name is Tiffany.” She withdrew her palm delicately. “If you don’t want to tell me your real name, that’s fine, but it’s also okay if you want to tell me.”
Our stage names were our stage names for a reason. The dancers needed a level of distance between what they do on stage and their actual lives. It was a safety measure first and a privacy measure last. Darla had been clear never to reveal your real name. “These people aren’t here to know the real you. They want the fantasy you create for them,” she had said to me on my first night of work and I had been careful to remember that.
Tiffany’s eyes were a pretty blue. Her skin was remarkably unlined, but I could tell she had had work done. Botox probably from the smoothness of her forehead. “You’re a person first, Billy. Remember that.”
“Robert. My name is Robert,” I found myself saying, inwardly cringing at breaking Darla’s number one rule.
Tiffany’s answering smile wasn’t steamy or sexy or sultry. It was simply lovely. “Robert. It suits you. But can I call you Robbie?”
Ugh. I hated the nickname Robbie, but she was the one paying for this whole exchange, so I guess what the customer wanted the customer got. I nodded. “Sure.”
She took another long drink of her whiskey then handed the glass to me. “Here, have some. You must be thirsty. They sure do keep it hot in here.” She fanned her face with her hand. “I guess it makes it more comfortable when you take your clothes off.” She lifted an eyebrow and I found myself relaxing. There was something easy about Tiffany. Despite the weird situation, it almost felt like we were just two people hanging out.
I took a drink of the whiskey, enjoying the way it warmed my belly. I handed the glass back to her but she waved it off. “You take the rest. It’s already gone right to my head.”
I knocked back the rest of the drink and put the glass on the table against the wall. “Should I start—?”
“So tell me, Robbie, what do you do when you’re not taking your clothes off?” Tiffany interrupted, putting her hand on my thigh. I would have thought it an innocent gesture if not for the way she curled her fingers into my flesh. Or how close her thumb rested to my ball sack.
“I’m pre-law. I plan to go to law school when I graduate,” I found myself telling her. She had started rubbing her thumb in gentle, persistent circles. The tip of her nail brushed against the material over my balls. My groin tightened in response. I couldn’t help it. The whiskey had gone to my head and I was definitely buzzed. I had never been much of a drinker.
Tiffany’s face brightened. “Law school? Wow! You must be so smart.” She angled her body toward me, her hand inching further up my thigh until she was practically cupping my junk. This wasn’t going at all how I expected it to, but I found myself going with it. Enjoying it even. I like the way she made me feel like the most amazing, interesting man in the world. Men are egotistical creatures by nature. Get a guy talking about himself and act like it’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard and we’re eating out of the palm of your hand.
No one said males were particularly deep.
“I guess so,” I shrugged, enjoying her attention.
“What kind of law do you want to practice?” Tiffany asked, seeming to genuinely care about what I had to say.
“I’m not sure yet. I have time to figure it out. But I love the law. I just want to make the world a better place.” God, I sounded like a moron.
Tiffany pressed herself closer to me. “I can see that. I knew as soon as I saw you up on that stage that you were different. You were special.” She lifted her hand from my thigh and placed her fingers on my arm. A soft touch. Intimate even. “Do you want to come back to my place?”
I swallowed thickly.
“I thought you paid for me to dance,” I questioned.
Tiffany smiled. “I paid for your time. What we do with it is our business.”
I started to shake my head. “I can’t just leave. My boss will be pissed—”
“What if I paid for the rest of your shift?” she countered.
“Um…”
“Let me talk to your boss.” Tiffany got to her feet and left me alone in the seventies porn room.
What the hell was going on? Where was this going?
Tiffany seemed like a nice lady. She seemed into me and not just for my body. This entire exchange had thrown me off.
Tiffany returned ten minutes later and motioned for me to follow her. “Darla says it’s fine. Come on. My car’s out front.”
I looked down at the tight-fitting suit with the Velcro seams I was wearing. “I should change.”
Tiffany’s eyes heated. “Don’t. I like it.” Her voice became husky and I knew, without a doubt, where this evening was going.
**
“Ahh, Robbie, oh my god!” Tiffany screamed as I pounded away, my cock thrusting so deeply into her pussy I wondered if she could feel me in her throat.
We had gone back to her apartment—a massive space in the middle of the city. It used to be a warehouse and had been gentrified in the last few years. It was one giant room separated by plants and thin, gauzy dividers.
Tiffany had opened a bottle of wine. We talked a little more. I found myself telling her about my brother. About my financial responsibilities. About how much I wanted to take care of my family. She had a way of getting me to open up. She didn’t prod. She asked me questions. She let me speak without filling the silence. She wasn’t expectant. And because she wasn’t pushy, I found it easy to talk to her. I unloaded on Tiffany in a way I hadn’t spoken to anyone. Ever.
Tiffany had honed the art of active listening and she wielded it like a super power.
I was raw. I was vulnerable. And then she made her move.
She kissed me.
And the next thing I knew, we were in her king-sized bed, our clothes on the floor, and I was balls-deep inside her. Her skin was smooth and I liked the feel of her. I had had sex a total of one other time in my life, but my inexperience didn’t seem to matter to Tiffany.
“Pinch my nipples. Hard,” she barked, arching her back. I did as I was told and she screamed again. I wondered what her neighbors must think.
“Flip me over. I want you to fuck my ass,” she commanded.
“What?” I panted, not sure I heard her correctly. I was starting to feel a little lightheaded. This woman could go for hours.
She sat up and wrapped her legs around my waist, causing me to stop thrusting. She kissed my jaw. “Oh baby, you're so sweet and innocent. Have you ever stuck your dick in a woman’s ass before?”
“Um, no,” I muttered.
She took my bottom lip between her teeth. “Trust me, you’ll like it,” she purred. “Now flip me over. Don’t be gentle about it. I like it rough.”
She bit down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. I gripped her hips and pulled out. Then I lifted her and dropped her on her stomach, pressing her face into the pillow. She lifted her ass into the air and I dug my fingers into her flesh as I pushed into her tight, tight asshole. It was weird. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do. Did it hurt her?
Then I started moving and the grip on my cock was unlike anything I had ever felt before. She seemed to like it. She squirmed beneath me, her screams muffled by the pillow. I kept one hand on the back of her neck, the other digging into the flesh of her firm ass as I pummeled it. Only a few minutes went by before I had to come. I started to pull out but Tiffany stopped me.
“Cum in my ass, Robbie,” she begged.
Not needing any further encouragement, I came so hard I saw spots behind my eyelids. When I was finished I fell onto the bed, pulling her close to me. I figured she’d want to cuddle now. Isn’t that what women wanted?
Tiffany lifted one of my hands and kissed my knuckles before laughing breathlessly. “You’re good at that, sweetheart. Better than most.”
“Thanks,” I said, not knowing how else to respond.
“Now go clean up, we’re not done yet.” She raised her eyebrow provocatively. “Bathroom’s over there.” She pointed across the room to another door.
I did as I was asked, making quick work of washing off. It felt strange using her fancy hand towels that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. When I was finished I went back to her, finding she had rolled onto her back. She looked at me and beckoned me over with a crook of her finger.
I laid back on the bed beside her, draping an arm over her flat stomach. I looked down into her face. Most of her makeup had been rubbed off and she looked much older now. Maybe older than I originally thought. I wasn’t about to ask her age. My mother had raised me not to be rude. “You haven’t had much experience though, have you? Were you a virgin?”
I felt myself get defensive. “No. I wasn’t a virgin!” I exclaimed indignantly.
She laughed again and kissed my rigid mouth. “You’re so damn cute when you’re offended. I’m just saying there’s an innocence about you that’s sexy as hell. It makes me want to do very, very naughty things to you.” She ran her hand down my front and took my cock in her hand. I felt myself start to harden again. She giggled. “You’re so responsive. That’s a good thing.” She licked the underside of my jaw. “I’ve been with a lot of men in my life, but none have tasted quite as good as you, Robbie baby.”
I pushed her onto her back and fit myself between her legs. “I’m ready if you’re ready.” I started to lean down and kiss her, but she pressed a finger to my mouth, stopping me.
“Do you like working at the strip club?” she asked.
I was taken aback by the question. It was a strange one given what we were currently doing. “Yeah. I do,” I told her, confused.
“Why? What do you like about it?” Her hand was still around my dick, her thumb rubbing the tip in slow, lazy circles. It made it hard to concentrate.
“I like the money. I told you why I need it,” I said.
“Any other reasons?” she murmured, still rubbing the head of my cock with the pad of her thumb.
“I like that women want me,” I groaned as she squeezed me in her grip and started to pump me, slow and steady.
“Oh yeah, baby. They want you all right.” She grinned up at me, watching me closely as she started to jerk me off.
“I like that I can be someone different. I like that it’s an act I get to play,” I continued, my breath becoming shallow.
“And do you like this?” she asked, her hand moving faster. I was going to come again.
“Fucking hell, yeah,” I bellowed, closing my eyes
“You like making women feel good?” she kept on.
“Yes. I do.” I felt the pressure mounting. It was like a hot coil in my belly.
“What if you could do this again?” she asked, pulling her hand away just as I was about to blow my load. I opened my eyes, blinking in bewilderment.
“Huh?”
Tiffany sat up, her tits as perky as a twenty-year-old. They weren’t real, but I didn’t care. She reached for a glass of water on her bedside table and took a sip. “You’re a sweet boy and it’s obvious you need a hand up in the world. What if I could give you that hand up?”
I frowned. “I can take care of myself just fine.”
Tiffany turned to me, her smile tender, if not a little condescending. “I’m not saying you can’t. Perhaps I should have said it another way.” She put her hand on my knee. “What if we can help each other.”
I grinned and put my hand between her legs. “I thought that’s what we were doing.” I wiggled my eyebrows and she chuckled.
“It’s hard to have a conversation when you do things like that, Robbie.”
My grin grew wider. “Why do we need to talk?”
Tiffany spread her legs a little wider, giving me access. But even as I started fingering her, she still wanted to talk. “Stripping makes you good money, right?” I nodded. “Well, there are ways to make double—triple even— while making other women feel as good as you’ve made me feel tonight.” She gasped as I pressed her clit.
Her words gave me pause. I was a smart guy, but for some reason, it was taking me a while to catch on to what she was insinuating. I withdrew my fingers and sat back on my haunches, “What are you suggesting?”
Tiffany laughed again, sitting up. “You’re so naive. I love it.” She ran her other hand down the side of my face. “Robbie, I’m a businesswoman. A successful one too. I earned my first million at the age of thirty. I was able to do that because I have an eye for quality. And Robbie, you’re quality.” She seemed to regard me like someone buying a painting. “Would you like to hear about how I can help you get a slice of that very lucrative pie?”
I was intrigued. She had a way of pulling me in. She was a hell of a saleswoman. “Sure. Tell me.”
Tiffany closed her legs and leaned against the headboard. “I run a very successful business that pairs gorgeous young men, like yourself, with very wealthy, very lonely women.” She watched me as I digested the information. “I find men who need a way to make a lot of money and I help them. But it’s not just about the men, it’s about the women too. There are a lot of women out there that need to feel good about themselves and you’d do that for them. And they’ll love you for it. And pay you handsomely for the privilege of your company. Just as I have.”
She took a cigarette from the drawer and lit it. I watched her draw in a lungful of smoke and slowly exhale. I’d always hated smoking. I thought it made a person look trashy. Not Tiffany Hardwell. She made it look seductive and erotic. Like an old-school Hollywood star.
“You’re saying you run an escort business?” I asked, finally putting the pieces together. I was a smart guy. Smarter than most. But my lack of actual real-world experience was putting me at a disadvantage in this situation. I came across as a total moron.
“Escort sounds so seedy.” She waved her hand. “This is about companionship. Relationship building. You spend time with these women—”
“And have sex with them,” I interrupted.
“If that’s where it goes, then yes,” she agreed. “But it’s not something I push my boys to do. I leave it up to them. Many of them see it as a way of using their...natural gifts...as a way to make others happy. All of my boys enjoy themselves. I make sure of it.” She extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray and took my hands in hers. “You’re special, Robbie. So special. You made me feel alive tonight. I haven’t had an orgasm like that since I was a teenager.” Her eyes flashed. “I want other women to feel the way you made me feel. You have a gift, baby. An incredible gift. And you should be sharing that with the world.”
I ran my hand down my face. “I don’t know—” I started to say. Stripping was one thing, prostitution was another.
“My boys charge a thousand dollars an hour, Robbie,” she interjected, shutting me up.
My mouth went dry.
“A thousand dollars? An hour?”
“I take ten percent, of course. A procurement fee, if you will.”
“Of course,” I croaked, feeling like I had been doused with cold water. One thousand dollars? An hour? That was crazy money!
I could pay for my brother’s fees with only a few nights of work...
Tiffany grinned and nodded. “My clients are very selective. And I only hire the most desirable men.” She ran her fingers up my arm. “And Robbie, my Darling, you are very, very desirable.”
She started kissing my jaw again, her tongue running over my skin. “I don’t know if I can have sex with strangers,” I breathed as she
straddled me again, her pussy pressing against my cock.
“Oh sweetheart, I’m a stranger and you fucked me so, so well.” She leaned down and kissed my chest. “You’re a natural. And you can make a lot of money for your family.”
She was incredibly persuasive. Between her words and the way she was moving her body against mine, I couldn’t come up with a decent argument against her suggestion. I was young and out of my depth. But I liked sex and I wanted to take care of my mom and brother. They depended on me. One day I was going to be a successful lawyer. I would fight the good fight.
But for now, I could do this and enjoy the hell out of it.
I lifted Tiffany and settled her back down on my aching cock and we moaned in unison as I filled her. “As long as it always feels like this, I’m in,” I pledged as I started screwing the woman I barely knew.
“You’re going to make us a lot of money, Robbie. You’ll be a god and women will worship you,” she promised as I let her convince me all night long.
Chapter One
Skylar
Present Day
I stretched my arms over my head and rotated my head, trying to relieve the kink in my neck. I needed to get a new desk chair but finances were tight at the moment, so I was having to make do with the incredibly uncomfortable chair that came with my kitchen table.
At least the view out my window was nice.
I gazed through the open sash, breathing in the crisp autumn air. The leaves had started to change and I watched them drift lazily from their branches. I wasn’t the kind of person to wax poetic about fall foliage, but I could appreciate the blissful quiet of my home, nestled on the outskirts of Southport, Pennsylvania. It was tucked into a valley between two hills and surrounded by nothing but fields and forests.
It was a far cry from my cramped one-bedroom apartment I had shared with my ex, Mac ‘the ass’ Stevens, in Philadelphia.
Say You're Mine: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Southport Love Stories Book 4) Page 2
