When With Rome (Perfect Gentlemen Book 1)

by Natalie Gayle

  This one, I’m pleased I can answer truthfully. “I decided to take a break for a bit.”

  “Why?” shoots from her mouth, then she realizes how presumptuous that sounds and visibly cringes. I’m about to break one of my own rules, and my common sense doesn’t seem to be able to do a damned thing to stop my mouth wanting to answer her question.

  “I know it might not seem like it, but this job can be very emotionally and physically draining. I needed some time out to think about what I wanted and just recharge the batteries. Not everyone is as easy to get along with as you.”

  “Thank you!” she says with a surprised laugh. We walk on for a few more steps. “I can’t say I really understand what you’re saying. However, I can certainly recognize it could be a very difficult job. I’m sure there are a lot of expectations on you.”

  I leave that one alone…the last thing I want to do is potentially turn things to a conversation about how I have sex with other women. No, we don’t need to go there. I’m treading on very dangerous ground. If Carlene keeps asking questions, I’ll probably keep answering her directly, which is worrying. For me, Carlene has fast become almost like a truth serum.

  “How do you do it?”

  I’m not quite sure what she’s asking me. “Do what?”

  Then she stiffens beside me. “Have sex with women you’re not attracted to? That must happen, surely?”

  Of all the questions, she could have asked me…why this one? The one I hate and few women actually ask because of their own insecurities. Oz is different, she expects an answer, because she’s curious. She’s also clueless to how attractive I find her—a total breath of fresh air for me.

  “Even with women I’m not ordinarily attracted to, I can generally find something about them physically or personality wise that is attractive to me. I focus on that.”

  I watch her nod, the lamp light casting a yellowy glow around her head.

  “Oz, I don’t want to talk about the job or other aspects of it. I know it can be intriguing when you haven’t been exposed to it before, but right now, I just want to focus on you—us, and the here and now. I know you might think it’s a brush off. It’s not. I can honestly say, I’m having a great time with you, and I find you very easy to be around and very attractive. Can you live with that?”

  She looks at me a little skeptically. I can tell she’s running her bullshit meter over me, and I’m not sure what conclusion she’s come to.

  I said enough. Quickly, I’m becoming torn. There’s a fine line we walk as escorts. In two-week’s time, I will likely never see this woman again. The decision is hers. If she chooses to never see me again, I want to leave her with beautiful, fond memories of our time together, not a broken heart. Broken hearts are another occupational hazard—women becoming emotionally attached to us, this can and does happen, particularly when we’re on extended engagements.

  She pauses to look out over the ocean at a boat passing by still mulling over my question. I stop with her and wait for her answer. “I can live with this, Rome. We’ll just know of it as Rome and Carlene’s US adventure and leave it at that.”

  I wrap an arm around her shoulders. Carlene, however, surprises me. She slides her arm around my waist and moves in and places her head against my chest. It’s the first time she’s made a move on me.

  “I like that idea and the name.” I tighten my arms around her.

  We stand there for a few long moments. I figure Carlene hasn’t had a lot of human contact since her husband passed, and a hug is something I can certainly give her. It feels more like she’s seeking affection and intimacy rather than something more sexual right now.

  She leans back a fraction to look up at me.

  “I think I’d like you to kiss me now, Rome. Isn’t that what happens on dates?”

  This is new? Or is it?

  “It certainly is, particularly when the woman is as gorgeous as you.”

  Either way, I’m very happy to oblige. I’ve kept things light today after our kiss this morning. I wanted to give her the opportunity to get to know me and feel comfortable at her own speed, today.

  I lower my lips to hers, and this time, I don’t have to coax her to open for me. She’s eagerly waiting to join me. It’s a long, slow kiss. A kiss of discovery, one where I take the time to learn what makes her breath hitch and her hips press into me harder.

  Her hand roams across my back, and her fingernails create hot trails even through my shirt. It’s her time to learn me as well.

  I cup my palm around the back of her head and stroke her cheek with my thumb as I leisurely hold the contact. It’s a kiss that could easily build into much more, if I let my body loose with what it really wants to do.

  She’s not ready for that intense sort of loving with me yet. I know better than to scare her off. Carlene has made the first move, and I’m returning her trust with a kiss filled with sincerity and passion, albeit while still being well in control. Our lips part, then briefly come together for a couple of teasing pecks.

  A long, keening moan slips from her throat.

  “Enjoy that?” I rub my hands up and down her arms.

  She looks up into my eyes “Very much.” A few seconds later, she rests her head on my chest again, and I wonder what she’s thinking.

  “Come on, let’s head back to the hotel.” I take her hand, and we stroll the remainder of the short distance.

  Back in the room, she kicks off her shoes as soon as we’re through the door. She walks over to the sofa and sinks into the plush cushions. I move over to the sliding doors which open onto the balcony. The heavy black-out curtains are still pulled to the side, and the light gauzy curtains cover the glass.

  I open the doors to let some fresh air in.

  “Good idea, I prefer the fresh air to the air-conditioning. I try to leave the doors open at home to catch the ocean breeze.”

  I glance at my watch, the night is still early. Too early to head to bed to sleep and late enough to be awkward. A quick scan of the counter making up the kitchenette in the corner, confirms the Champagne and strawberries I’d requested this afternoon have been delivered.

  Time for a little concerted seduction. What surprises me even more is my body wired with anticipation. Is this anticipation new or is it just the product of me coming off a long break?

  I move across to the closet and take out one of the luxurious hotel bathrobes, then pass it to Carlene.

  “Here, Oz, go change out of your clothes into this. I’m going to give you a massage tonight.” I make it a statement rather than a question. I don’t want to open a discussion about it. Carlene doesn’t need an opportunity to refuse something pleasurable out of fear, something I’m happily offering.

  Tentatively, she takes the robe from me, all the while looking up at me with her big, expressive eyes. I can see the indecision and feel her nervous energy. I can also see the desire and the curiosity, even if she isn’t acknowledging it or running with it quite yet. It’s there. That’s enough for now.

  I offer her my hand to pull her up from the comfy spot on the sofa. She grasps it, with only the slightest of hesitations, which pleases me.

  “Go get changed, sweetheart. I promise, you’re going to really enjoy this.”

  She gives me a shy smile and moves off to the bathroom. “I trust you, Rome.”

  Surprisingly, her words mean the world to me. It really does matter to me what she thinks and feels. I’m really starting to like Carlene as a person and not just as a client. This is new for me; in the past, I’ve always been able to pigeon hole my clients in my head.

  I wonder just how dangerous my new epiphany is to me as I take out the small pouch I use to carry my massage supplies in, when I travel. The benefit of driving for these couple of weeks means I’ve been able to bring my portable massage table, which I quickly set up. I’m pleased to see housekeeping has dropped in the stack of towels I requested.

  Now, all that’s left to do is dim the lights to just the soft bedsi
de lamps and pour the Champagne. To set the mood a little more, I light a vanilla and musk scented candle I had in my little bag of tricks and Bluetooth my iPhone to the speakers I carry. I have the perfect playlist for this.

  Carlene emerges from the bathroom just as I’m filling the second flute with Champagne.

  “Was that a Champagne cork I heard popping?” She looks delicious. Her face is devoid of makeup, and her hair’s a little tussled. The look suits her perfectly, although I doubt she realizes it.

  “It sure is, baby. Come get a glass.”

  I lift a glass in offer but don’t move. I want her to come to me. She crosses the distance with anticipation in her eyes. The mood is building around us. The air has suddenly developed its own energy in the room. There’s now a feeling of anticipation surrounding us.

  Our fingers briefly brush as she takes the flute from me, and a zap of electricity sparks between us. She felt it too, based on the little start her body gives. I watch her bring the cool, golden liquid to her lips and sip as I do the same.

  “Good?”

  She nods, not taking her eyes from me.

  “It’s going to get better.” Her breath hitches, and I silently cheer a little. I’m going to love unravelling her.

  “Take another sip, beautiful. I’m going to set you up on my table now.” I motion with a nod of my head to where I’ve set up the table between the bed and the balcony doors.

  “Where did that come from?” she asks in astonishment.

  “Just a little something I brought with me. Why don’t you let me help you up onto the table?” Before she has time to think or argue, I remove the glass from her hand and place it on the counter beside mine for later.

  Carlene spins around and looks wary. “What do you want me to do?”

  I step in and draw her into my arms for a hug. “I’m going to loosen this robe, then you’re going to lay on your front, okay.” I keep her pressed to me with one arm, while I use my other hand between us to undo the sash she’s knotted to secure it.

  My lips touch to her neck just below her ear in a light, teasing kiss. “Slide up onto the bed for me, Carlene. I want to run my hands all over you.”

  “Rome!” She sucks in a breath as she says my name, and I feel the intake of her breath, right down to my toes.

  “Shh, sweetheart, it’s fine. You’re going to love this. I promise.” I gently turn her and urge her to the bed, like I asked. I let her arrange herself modestly, to feel more comfortable.

  As I expect, Carlene does it ensuring there’s not a glimpse of anything inappropriate or interesting. When she settles, the robe is undone, and she still has her arms through the sleeves. That isn’t going to work for me at all, but I don’t want to spook her before we begin.

  “Comfortable?”

  “Yes.” Comes out on a labored breath.

  “You don’t sound certain, Oz. Relax, it’s going to be fine.”

  I grab a couple of the big, folded towels from the counter and open one up. Then before she has a chance to protest, I run it up over the backs of her legs, under the robe, to her shoulders. I repeat the process with another towel to cover from her waist down to mid-thigh.

  Next, I peel the robe from her arms and throw it on a chair to the side.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  That got the robe out of my way. I understand this experience is unsettling, I just need her to trust me and go with it.

  Every muscle in her body has tensed, although she hasn’t uttered a word or a sound and I wonder if she’s frozen in fear. This is obviously so far out of her comfort zone, and I’m going to enjoy smashing through her barriers.

  The underwear I felt as I slid the towels into place has to go as well. I want her naked. The nakedness can wait for a moment, though. All in good time, and I have plenty of it.

  “Do you have any nut allergies I need to know about?”

  “No? Why?”

  “The oil I’m going to use has an almond base. It’s great for massage.” I pour a liberal amount into my palm and rub my hands together and then run them up her calves, then back down over her feet and right to the tips of her toes, coating all her silky skin as I go.

  I pick up her left foot and start massaging just like I did last night. She has pretty feet. Cute, straight little toes and an elegant arch to her foot, running into thin, shapely ankles. There’s no color adorning her toenails, and I make a mental note to make sure she gets a pedicure this trip, as well. I’ll enjoy seeing those toes a deep red or maybe something fun, like a sassy blue.

  As I work my thumbs into the balls of her feet, I can see her start to relax and let me do my thing. My hands on her feet are non-threatening and almost hypnotizing to her once she’s relaxed enough.

  I trail the tips of my fingers lightly over the soles of her feet before I start to work on her firm calves.

  She shivers, and I decide this is the perfect opportunity to start a little conversation. Over the last couple of days, I’ve been working up a plan on how I’m going to approach her voyage of sexual discovery as much as I’m showing her the sights of my home country.

  It’s all going to be about testing and trialing with Carlene. I just have to get her to agree to it on her terms. She wants it, but doesn’t know how to admit it or ask for it.

  “Is that shiver because you’re ticklish or to let me know you’re wanting something more?” I throw out there in a low voice, not much more than a whisper.

  “Um, ticklish,” she squeaks.

  Not buying it, I run my fingertips down her calves then use a firm stroke upwards on her thighs to just under the towel. I concentrated my efforts on the backs of her thighs, slowly edging up each stroke but not approaching inner thigh territory, just yet.

  “How does that feel, Oz?”

  “Good, really good.”

  “Not too hard?”

  “No, perfect.”

  I run my hands firmly up the outside of her thighs for a few long strokes until she relaxes under my hands. Each time, I go just a little higher, until finally I reach the edge of her panties.

  She stiffens a little, and rather than stop or back away, I just keep my movements the same—retracing the same territory, letting her get comfortable with the feel of my hands on her. A few seconds later, she relaxes again for me.

  Then I get a little bolder again, by her standards, not mine, and run my hands straight under the sides of her panties at her hips. Again, I give her time to get used to the idea for a few strokes of my hands. On the next stroke, I turn very bold and hook my thumbs into the fabric and smoothly slide them the length of her legs and off before she even realizes what I’m doing.

  “Rome!” It’s a feeble protest that sounds more like a moan to me than any real attempt to stop me.

  “They were in my way,” I state, as I draw my hands over the area without the protection or the annoyance of the panties. This time, I don’t stroke my hands downward along her outer thighs. Instead, I bring my hands inward over the curve of her backside, until they meet.

  I nonchalantly flick the towel up to uncover her ass. Her body tenses and she sucks in an audible breath, but she doesn’t protest. Probably too shocked.

  With each continued stroke, I feel her relax a fraction. Once she’s more comfortable, I add a little more pressure and focus on her upper thighs and the rounded globes of her ass. There’s still a little apprehension there, I can feel it in her muscles under my hands, but no protests, which is an excellent sign.

  “Feels good, doesn’t it?” I coax.

  “Yeeeaaaah.”

  I run my hands down her thighs again; this time, I focus a little more on the inner thigh area. Just like before, I only go halfway to start with before extending my strokes a little higher each time.

  “Spread your legs for me a little, Oz, I want to get every muscle.” I lean over her so my breath tickles her neck as my voice caresses her ears.

  She sucks in
a sharp breath and does as I ask. I add a little more oil to my palms and slide them right up to her pussy but carefully avoid touching her there, as tempting as it is.

  Timing is everything in seduction, and it isn’t the right time just yet.

  I keep up my firm strokes to her inner thighs, then I lighten off the pressure a little and turn up the heat to sensual.

  I can see her pussy starting to swell and sheen with her building need. She’ll be a lot wetter before I finally touch her. I realize I’m licking my lips with anticipation.

  To finish her legs, I trail my finger-tips lightly over them, and her body jolts and wriggles at the sensation.

  “That was you shivering because you definitely want something more. Patience, Oz.” I don’t want her answer or protest. I just want her to think on my words as I continue with what I’m doing.

  I replace the towel over her ass but settle it very low. Then I whip off the towel covering her back and rub my hands straight up the center of her spine and enjoy the way her muscles ripple a little under my touch.

  Right from the start, it’s been obvious Carlene takes care of herself and has an active lifestyle. She isn’t fitness model fit or fashion model thin. Rather, toned with the right amount of curves, exactly where a real woman should have them.

  The swell of her breasts are playing peek-a-boo on her sides and teasing me. For now, I’ll let them play their games. Soon, I’ll catch them, and then it will be me playing my games.

  Time to take things to the next level.

  I lean forward on the next long stroke up her back to her shoulders and whisper in her ear, “What do you like a man to do to you, Carlene?”

  “Umm…” she pauses for a few moments unsure what to say in return to my question, “you seem to have a pretty good handle on it. The last couple of days have been great.”

  Little minx. “Thank you. That’s the safe answer, though, beautiful. Now give me the truth. I want to know how you like to be touched, kissed, licked, sucked, fucked.”

  Her rib cage expands, and her shoulders tense.

  “Relax, there’s nothing wrong with telling a lover what you want, how you like to be loved. I’d like you to tell me, I want to make everything special between us.”