Valentine for Hire

by Aria Cole

  Valentine For Hire

  Aria Cole

  Aria Cole

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  First Epilogue

  Second Epilogue

  Banger (The Dominate CEO)

  Also by Aria Cole

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  Valentine For Hire

  BY

  ARIA COLE

  Copyright © 2017 by Aria Cole

  Cover Design: Sybil at PopKitty Design

  Editing: Aquila Editing

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Love always finds a way.

  Introduction

  For Bryn Stafford, the prospect of going home for her sister’s extravagant Valentine’s Day wedding—hopelessly single…again—sounds like hell on earth. She’s always dreaded introducing anyone to the hot mess that is her over-the-top, obnoxiously wealthy and well-bred family, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So after seeing an ad for the city’s premier escort service, Elite Fling, Bryn finds herself making an appointment to hire one very handsome, very expensive fake date for the big day.

  When the woman of Brodie Merrick’s dreams walks into Elite Fling, his brother's slightly immoral but incredibly successful “dating” service, Brodie has two thoughts: a) what the hell is a girl like her doing in a place like this? and b) what would those sparkly red stilettos feel like wrapped around his neck? He begs his brother to give him the job, even though he’s just the computer guy and most definitely not an escort, but because Brodie is a lucky motherf#cker, he soon finds himself with one very sexy fake Valentine.

  When they meet on the day of the wedding, Bryn assumes he’s the escort she’s hired to be her date, but Brodie has other plans, plans that involve him and her and a very long and lucky orgasmic future together. Can he win his feisty fake Valentine’s heart? Or will their chemistry fade faster than the syrupy sweet sugar high?

  Warning: Forget candy hearts and frilly flowers. Brodie is a man’s man—he sees what he wants, he takes what he needs, and he lays claim to what’s his. He’s all alpha all the time and determined to give Bryn blissful orgasms, beautiful babies, and his last name. Hold onto your panties, Valentine For Hire is a saucy romp with a sexy, alpha stranger on Valentine’s Day!

  Chapter One

  Bryn

  I tapped the fancy scalloped-edge invitation on the counter, feeling the familiar pit of dread burn in my stomach.

  The wedding.

  Would it be wrong to bail on the wedding of my only sister? My perfectly poised, irritatingly beautiful and elegant only sister.

  I groaned, tossing the invite on the counter then picking up my phone.

  I hadn’t seen my sister in months on purpose. She’d turned into the mother of all bridezillas. Thankfully she’d chosen her best girlfriend as her maid of honor so I didn’t have to cater to her every whim. Because she had a lot of them. Thankfully, I would be allowed to watch the spectacle from the audience, my sister standing with her five favorite sorority sisters from college. Yeah, she was that girl.

  Brittany may have been my big sister, but she’d been the pain in my ass since the day I was born. Life was a competition, and if you weren’t competing in her relentless race to keep up with the Joneses, then you were a loser.

  Enter me. The black sheep. The daughter who cared more for social injustice than social cotillions. I dreaded the idea of attending her stuffy wedding, cringed even more at the prospect of going alone.

  I picked up my phone, desperate for a distraction and scrolling through my newsfeed absentmindedly. Cooking videos, movie trailers, ads, ads, ads, and more ads.

  Until one caught my eye.

  A man and a woman dressed up in elegant attire, going at it in a dark stairwell.

  Life is short. Have a fling.

  Despite my better judgement--or maybe out of some twisted sense of desperation--I clicked on it.

  The Elite Fling website was clean, simple, and very elegant.

  That surprised me.

  The elegance of it.

  Weren’t escort services catering to filthy, perverted wealthy people who liked getting their rocks off with strangers? The website looked so professional and modern, clearly aimed at a younger professional, that it actually had me rethinking my view on the entire industry.

  Maybe Elite Fling catered to people like me.

  People who needed a date to impress their stodgy, pretentious family. To keep the judgemental glances at bay as I walked in—single, post-grad career woman, and alone again.

  My family much preferred things like heirs and lineage to discussions about independent woman who were driven by careers and wanted to change the world. A woman who spent her days studying instead of ordering the staff for important dinners was not worth a damn. Needless to say I stick out like a sore thumb during the holidays, so instead of being seen I try to disappear into the furniture so that no one even notices me. Last Christmas had been so horrendous, in fact, that I’d snuck out early and hadn’t been back. In eight months.

  I’d accomplished a lot in those eight months, began a new research project, worked until my eyes were bleary on a few proposals based on new figures that’d come in. I loved it with my entire heart, but that hadn’t left me with much else.

  Like, at all.

  I hovered over the Special Requests button and found a local number pop-up.

  Elite Fling was based right here in the city.

  Prickles of fear seared my palms as I hovered over the call button, sucking a deep breath and doing it quickly before I could think any more.

  I had an elite wedding to attend.

  I could use an escort to accompany me.

  Elite Fling felt like the perfect solution. I could get a date for a few hours, avoid the pity of my parents, second cousins and great aunts, and maybe even feel wanted, actually attractive for a while.

  “Elite Fling, what’s your pleasure?” a saccharin sweet, incredibly young-sounding woman’s voice chirped.

  “Uh…hi.” I fumbled. “I guess…well, I have a special request.”

  “Yes, this is the special request line, honey,” she said.

  “Right.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have a wedding this weekend—”

  “Not a problem at all, honey. Just let me check the schedule…” She paused, and I heard her fingers tapping on the keyboard. “Oh, usually we’re booked out a few weeks, but looks like we have some time tomorrow night. Can you be here around six?”

  Anxiety shuttled through me as I thought about going to wherever here was to meet with an escort. “W-where?”

  “Just off Monroe.” She paused. “In the financial district…” She stopped again, as if she was trying to work up the courage to ask me something. “We cater to a very high-end professional clientele…” Her voice softened a notch, like a best friend whispering conspiratorially, before she continued. “Do you know our hourly rate, hon?”

  I swallowed, the thought of actually paying for a date to my sister’s wedding suddenly not sitting so well with me after all.

  But the thought of going to that damn wedding at all made me sick to my stomach.

  At least this way I
’d possibly have some fun, meet someone new…a professional casanova.

  The idea sounded too intriguing to pass up.

  “It’s not a problem. I have savings I haven’t touched in years… This is the first time I’ll be spending money on myself….ever.” The last word fell flat, my sad existence sounding a little more miserable as I said the words out loud.

  “Honey, we all deserve a little fun every now and again. I’ve got you down for six.

  I nodded, clutching the phone in my hand before realizing she couldn't actually see me. “Thank you.”

  “Happy to help, dear. We’re only too happy to help.” The phone line went dead.

  What in the hell had I gotten myself into?

  Chapter Two

  Brodie

  “The hard drive is fucked. You’re gonna need a new one.” I slapped my brother on the back. He shot me a dark glare, pushing closed the laptop and shoving the very expensive, very broken computer across the desk. “Sorry, bro.”

  “You know how much that fucker cost me?”

  “A Pro with all that extra RAM, yeah, I know.” Easily over the three thousand mark. But that was my brother, always wanting the best, wanting to outspend everyone he knew. Shit like that made him feel good.

  God, we really couldn’t be more different.

  Truth was, I could hardly stand being around my brother, but I was taught blood is thicker than water, and so I was here when he needed me, rain or shine.

  “You know, you don’t have to dump a bunch of money into a computer. Buy something more cost effective, hire someone who knows what the hell they’re doing to run your system, then shit will work flawlessly.”

  “Why don’t you come work for me, then?” He shot me a look. He’d offered me that exact position multiple times, and while I didn’t mind helping him out, I did mind spending every day with the arrogant bastard.

  “Not for me, Danny. Thanks anyway.” I shoved my own laptop, which I’d been using to test his system, under my arm.

  “Hey, why don’t you hang around for a while? I’ve got an appointment, but I can cancel it.” The twinge of regret in his voice hit me in the stomach.

  “Old age creeping up on you, brother? I think you’ve forgotten we don’t hang out. I think your next appointment is here anyway.” I paused at the one-way mirror that overlooked an intimate reception area.

  “Just another lonely woman looking for a date to a wedding. I’ll be through in five minutes. Just have to ask her a few questions, make sure we get her type down before we assign her someone.”

  “Her type?” My eyes drifted towards the most beautiful and sexy woman I had ever seen. The soft waves of dark hair that curled around her very huge tits like silky waterfalls, a waist that hour-glassed in like a retro pinup, hips that begged for my hands. And those legs. Long, curvy legs perched on a pair of sexy, sky-high, and sparkling red heels.

  If any pair of shoes could simultaneously give a man a hard-on and a heart attack, it was those.

  I knew because my heart was racing and my cock was raging.

  “Ya know, tall, dark and handsome, big hands, man-bun—you wouldn’t believe some of the requests we get nowadays.”

  “That’s all bullshit.”

  “Bullshit?” my brother said, walking closer towards me.

  “Women don’t fall for types, they fall for the man who gives them that feeling.”

  “That feeling? Aren’t you a romantic.” My brother laughed mirthlessly.

  “You make a woman feel loved, desired, like she’s on your mind twenty four seven… That’s what women want. They want a man who knows their worth and spends every day showing them that will never be taken for granted.”

  “Well, according to our questionnaire most of them want a man in a business suit to tie them up. It’s getting old.”

  “Jesus.”

  She turned, slipping into a velvet chair and crossing her legs, one fuck-hot red heel poised in the air.

  “Let me take her,” I blurted out.

  “What?” my brother asked.

  “She just wants a date for a wedding, right? I’ll take her. When is it?”

  “This weekend, Valentine’s Day, and no way, you’re not fucking taking her. This is my business, man. What do you think, I’m going to send you, someone who hasn’t even had a date in over a year, off with one of my clients?”

  My eyes trailed up the elegant curves of her cheekbone before landing on her warm, dark eyes.

  Something socked me in the gut then.

  Something I’ve never felt before blasted through my body, shattering every nerve and leaving me wanting, no, needing more.

  “I’m not doing anything Valentine’s day. I can do it. She’s not your normal client, Danny. I can see it all over her face. I bet she bought those shoes today just for this. She’s young, she’s new, she looks really fucking inexperienced. Don’t send her to the wolves. Just let me take her to the wedding, give her a few hours of what she needs—someone to dote on her—and that’s it.”

  Danny’s eyes narrowed on me before darting back to her.

  I saw him take in the way her fingers fidgeted, that red high heel wiggling back and forth.

  “She’s nervous, Danny. I’ll give her a real date. No one has to know any better. Hell, I won’t even take her money. Tell her you give out free samples of the product before purchase is required.” I saw that my joke had fallen flat when I looked at my constantly crabby brother.

  “It’s a wedding. How could I possibly fuck that up? Have I ever asked you for anything in my life?”

  He arched one thick eyebrow.

  “Ever?”

  “No,” he finally answered, crossing his arms. “Fine. Fine, you can take her to the wedding. I’ll send you the details after she’s gone. But don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, Brodie. This is my livelihood here. My reputation is on the line.”

  “Scout’s honor, brother.” I held up my hand, a triumphant grin spreading across my face.

  “Get that ugly fucking smirk off your face and go out the back door so she doesn’t see you.”

  “Got it, bro.” I smacked him on the shoulder. “Thanks again.”

  “Family is such a pain in my ass,” I heard him grumble before I beat it out the back door and into the rear parking lot.

  That woman, whatever her name is, left me starved for more of her.

  She didn’t belong in a place like that. My skeevy bro’s “dating service,” as he liked to call it, wasn’t a place for someone who had that kind of soulful emotion radiating from her eyes. Maybe I was a little misguided in my desire to save her, but I also knew I could be just the man she was looking for.

  Forget her type, I was the type that was about to rock her world.

  Chapter Three

  Bryn

  I scrolled through my newsfeed, anxious waves of bile running through my stomach as I waited.

  Waited for my super-taboo, forbidden, dirty escort to take me to my sister’s wedding.

  Boy, would Mom and Dad have stroke on this one. Brittany, too.

  But they didn’t have to know. No one did. This was my sorta kinky little secret.

  I’d been on a few dates over the years, but if you’ve been on one bad date, you’ve been on them all. I couldn’t stomach the dating scene right now, and maybe not ever. So this would have to do for now, and then tomorrow everyone could go on with their lives, no strings attached. No messy emotions or hurt feelings. Just two adults, having fun at a cheesy, upscale—

  “Waiting for a date?” A warm palm rested at the dip of my back and sent shivers racing through me.

  “Uh,” I spun to find a pair of ice-blue eyes regarding me, something like amusement sparkling in their depths. “You are…?”

  “Brodie, with Elite—”

  “Yes,” I interjected before anyone could overhear. “Yes, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  I nearly choked on my own tongue. This guy was devastating. The word handsome wasn’t
nearly enough to describe him. He was tall, shoulders cut as wide as a gladiator’s, the three-piece navy suit doing nothing to disguise that he worked out. A lot.

  His grin quirked up then, my eyes drawn to full, sexy lips that I was desperate to have pressed against my skin.

  Wait, where had that thought come from?

  I didn’t even know this guy. He could be a…well, he was an…escort.

  “I’m Bryn.” I thrust out a hand before feeling like a total idiot and dropping my gaze.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bryn.” He took my hand in his, raised it,and dropped a soft kiss across the knuckles. Holy shit, this must be what he’s trained to do, to woo women.

  God, I hated that he was so good at it.

  I hated that I had to keep reminding myself that he was getting paid to say things like that to me, not because he felt them.

  I shook the silly thought from my head then, forcing a smile and backing away a step.

  “We should get going. It’ll take us over an hour to get to my parents’ place without traffic.”

  “I’ll drive.” His words were easy, confident, like it wasn’t a question or even an offer. It was an order.

  “No, really, I know the way. I can get us there faster.” I pulled my keys from the little clutch I was carrying.

  “I doubt that.” He hooked my hand in his and pulled me down the sidewalk and around the corner. With the flick of a button, a jet-black Porsche roared to life.

  “This is your car?”

  “Borrowed it from a friend. A princess needs a chariot.”

  I froze, eyes landing on him, before I dead-panned, “Are you for real right now?”

  His eyebrows rose and he broke out into a sideways grin. “Real deal, babe.”