Intensity

by C. C. Koen

Open mouth, breathe in and exhale.

  Repeat, deep breath.

  The elevator doors started to close, and I flung my hand out, opening them again.

  I could do this.

  One last deep breath and fingers crossed, I stepped inside. My forehead pressed to the cool mirrored surface, I thumbed the number panel for the top floor, closed my eyes, and gave myself a pep talk.

  Pros and cons weighed, the decision to come here marked a time of change. The bank’s foreclosing on Gram’s house had been the last straw. Everything I’d tried so far hadn’t made a bit of difference. Besides, this would be temporary. Mylaynee said I had a choice, so I’d ask for “date-type” as long as I could. Even if I got one a week, I’d still net more than my other paychecks combined. I’d keep the nanny job and continue with bookkeeping, making every little bit count.

  I’ll get our house back, Gram, I promise.

  The doors opened and so did my determined eyes.

  Time to put my big girl pants on.

  Standing tall and wiping my sweaty palms on my dress, I forced my head up high and took two steps onto the wood floor.

  Across the room, a leather sofa with cushions that looked like clouds, comfy enough to sleep on but black like a midnight storm, stretched beneath a huge painting of a nude woman. Abstract ghostly images peered at her sprawled body lying on a settee. One of her hands dangled to the side, palm up, as if panhandling. The other flowed across her brow, a look of exasperation or pleasure I wasn’t sure. Her head tilted in my direction welcomed the newcomer and all who graced this domain. Intimate parts exposed, the beautiful figure captivated and mesmerized.

  I turned toward the frameless picture windows lining the entire exterior wall and was presented with a breathtaking, unobstructed view of the harbor. Smack dab in the middle, behind an antique mahogany desk, stood the tallest, most impressive man I’d ever seen. The black suit he wore matched the surroundings, professional and sleek. The top three buttons on his white shirt undone, dark sprigs of hair peeked through and begged for my attention.

  As I got closer, his eyes scanned me from head, to chest, to hips and up and down my long legs at least three times, resting on my ruby-red tiptoes.

  Ha! Two could play at that game. Using the exact pace he did, I snapped mental pictures of every God given, Mr. Universe muscle. A wavy black ponytail, pulled tight at the nape, crested his wide shoulders and dipped to mid-chest, bringing my journey to a momentary pause. A taut dress shirt molded to his pecs became an instant favorite and preference I didn’t know I had. As I gravitated lower, the desk impeded my view, coming to rest at his waist and a nondescript silver belt buckle. My eyes drifted back up, wishing I could see more, but his tailored jacket without a hint of lint on it kept him hidden. Still, from what I could take in, the man had sin engraved all over him.

  I stopped in front of his desk and realized my earlier assessment of him had been right. My six five in heels, shrunk to five feet the way he towered over me by several inches. “Linc?” The wispiness of my voice made me cringe. Way to go, Serena.

  His answer, one sharp nod. In the corners around each eye, little wrinkles appeared as he took another long journey over my body. Knees locked together, I tried hard not to fidget. “I’m Serena. Mylaynee said my interview was at twelve thirty. I’m a little early. I didn’t mean to interrupt if you were in the middle of something.” Damn, there I went, rambling. Yeah, that would have him eating out of my hands.

  Linc rounded the desk, coming toe to toe.

  “You’re a virgin.”

  “W-w-what?”

  Had Mylaynee told him?

  No, she said she wouldn’t. It must be my outfit. Stupid! I should’ve bought the sexy, red dress. Then he never would have thought that.

  He waited, I guess for a response.

  I gathered my courage and stood a little taller. “Is that a problem?” I narrowed my eyes, mimicking my best authoritarian schoolteacher glare.

  “Have a seat.” I could’ve sworn his reply came out a sigh, when he motioned with a flick of his hand toward the couch.

  I stalled, hoping he’d think I could handle alpha males and a little miffed at the way he greeted me. Both of us stared at one another. He squinted, and I noticed his eyes were a shade of blue that reminded me of the cornflower color I used yesterday, drawing spring flowers with the Millers’ children.

  The longer he looked at me, the more my stomach fluttered, like a thousand birds trying to escape captivity. I sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, shaking the feeling off. My gaze shifted to the comfy looking couch, and I tried to get my head on straight. I really shouldn’t piss this man off or he might not hire me. One step taken then another, I concentrated on the woman’s image above the sofa. Her hand extended, inviting me to join her.

  Evita. That’s what I’d name her.

  As soon as I sat down, my hands coasted across the soft leather. Just like I’d imagined a cloud would feel. When I looked up, Linc stood in the same place. The blackness of his suit reminded me of a panther’s coat, and the man—observing his meal.

  He crossed the room and sat next to me, the cushion sinking with his weight and tilting me closer to him. His left leg lined with mine, thigh to heel. He extended an arm along the top of the couch and laid his fingertips on the crease of my neck, brushing them up and down.

  Millions of tingles raced over my spine.

  His other warm hand took possession of my upper thigh, and he skimmed his thumb back and forth across my clenched legs, creeping upward.

  As my dress moved higher and into no man’s land, I gripped his wrist and squeezed hard. His fingers stilled at the edge of my panties, making me clench, and the movement on my neck ceased mid-stroke.

  “W-what are you doing?”

  His pupils transformed to pin pricks and those blue eyes with streaks of jungle green roamed my face in slow motion, as if recording each second to be replayed later.

  Never having been this close to a man, I didn’t hesitate to examine his intriguing features. His face was stunning, but not perfect. A long and slightly crooked nose might’ve been broken a time or two. The contrast and part that stole my attention though, his high cheekbones framing succulent red lips that blew slow, even breaths and flowed over my face, heating me all over. His chiseled chin and jaw, which enhanced an already striking face, added to his magnetism. The cologne he wore, or maybe his natural scent, reminded me of woods after a refreshing spring rain blended with a few drops of a fruity, citrus aroma. Bold, yet sweet.

  I snapped out of my exploration as soon as his deep voice called out.

  “What are you doing here, Serena?”

  Huh? Was that a trick question?

  “I-I’m here for a job…as an escort.” My brows scrunched together as I tried to figure out what else he might want me to say.

  He moved closer, our noses almost touching.

  Was he testing me? Trying to see how I might react to domineering, powerful men?

  My back stiffened and my grip on his hand tightened, squeezing it to death. His pulse beat rapidly on my fingertips. He dropped his head, almost clipping me in the nose, and sucked in a deep, ragged breath as if he needed to get control.

  His silence disturbed me, so I spit out the first thing that came to mind. “Mylaynee said the interview was a—” but I didn’t get to finish, as he bolted up from the couch and stared me down. Whatever I wanted to say vanished, and his serious face made me crush the cushion in my fists and sit ramrod straight.

  “Why are you here?” His clipped words, exasperated and peeved.

  I closed my eyes, scrunching them tight. I didn’t want to tell him about my situation. I just needed the damn job!

  “Please.” My whisper so low, I barely heard it in my own ears. I opened my eyes and from my seated position begged. “I need a job…that pays well, pays a lot, this job.” My voice grew stronger with each plea.

  Quiet for what seemed like an eternity, his gaze never left mine. He sh
ook his head, and announced matter-of-factly. “You’ll be exclusive.”

  “What does that—”

  He yanked me up from my seat and launched his lips on mine so fast the contact zapped me with a thousand volts. His strokes, bold at first, lightened to soft, tender kisses almost as if he was asking permission to enter—to taste.

  The heat from his hands, holding my upper arms, seared me.

  My fists clenched and unclenched over and over at my sides.

  Touch him? Don’t touch him?

  Unable to deny myself, I moved closer, aligning my body with his. My hands gravitated of their own volition, melting to his tight abs and drifting upward, over his chest and up to his neck, where I held on for the ride.

  His loud groan rumbled across my breasts, and his firm arms wound around my back, crushing me against him.

  For the first time in my life, I surrendered and parted my lips, ready to welcome him in. Instead of tongues diving toward one another, Linc stilled and clamped his mouth shut. As I started to step away, he clenched my hips, holding me in place. He pressed his forehead to mine and slammed his eyes closed.

  Kiss me, please.

  “Serena,” he whispered against my mouth. The tip of his tongue sliding along my bottom lip in a sensual, taunting tease.

  So, so good, yet so darn bad.

  My hold on his neck tightened as I tried not to rub myself against him, but my body had a mind of its own.

  His hand drifted up my neck and through my hair; the other gripped the small of my back, melding us chest, hips, and thighs. He slipped his tongue in and circled mine, first clockwise then counterclockwise and back again, lingering and savoring for a long while.

  Mmm…peppermint. My new favorite flavor.

  Clasped in his tight embrace, I could feel our hearts beating in rhythm with one another. After what seemed like an eternity he took a languid step back, bringing my first kiss to an end. Biting the corner of my lip, I could taste his sweetness on me.

  He set his fingertips on my temple and skimmed downward, across my cheek and to my chin, as if memorizing a map. His tender, reverent touch had my heart and breath seizing. He slid a thumb in a tender swipe across my lower lip, following it with a flash of a crooked smile. The euphoria of the moment almost made me grin too, but I couldn’t move in my state of shock and awe.

  “Beautiful,” he breathed down on me, coating my body in a wave of foreign emotions. As quick as he made the pronouncement, he dashed away to a bar in the far corner. The brief encounter went from a hundred passionate degrees to frigid in a second.

  What just happened?

  Stuck in the spot he left me, my nerves launched to jumping jacks in the pit of my stomach. He fixed a drink and didn’t bother to look at me again. I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue seemed superglued, making it impossible to utter a word.

  “The apartments are one or two bedrooms. I have both available. Mylaynee can show you hers. That way you’ll know what to expect. They’re not furnished, get a mover or I’ll have my men do it. Since you’re exclusive, you’ll live here rent-free,” Linc recited in a calm and professional manner; our momentary kiss fest hadn’t seemed to have impacted him in the least.

  Unfazed by my wordless mouth, opening and closing multiple times, he continued. “You’re to be available every night from six till the next morning. Sunday is everybody’s day off. What you’re wearing won’t do. Go to Forté and tell Liza I sent you. She’ll bill my account. Take Mylaynee with you, she knows what you need.”

  His large hand extended to me from behind the bar. “Take this.”

  “I don’t drink.” My brain and mouth kicked into gear at his demanding tone.

  “A toast, to your new job.”

  I walked over and took the tumbler, examining the contents. “What is it?”

  He smiled wide, cocking his brow. “Fifty-year-old scotch,” he stated, clinking his glass with mine.

  I nodded and chugged it with a coughing after-effect.

  He chuckled, saluted me, and downed his too. “You’ll bartend starting tonight. Be in the lounge ready to prep by six. Doors open at seven. Your prior experience should help, but I’ll have someone train you anyway. When you’re able to handle it solo, let me know. I prefer two serving, but I’ll schedule three until you’re ready.”

  “Where’s the lounge?”

  He thumbed backward toward double mahogany doors.

  “You’ll be paid a thousand a week. Tips are generous, so add another thousand. You don’t report them to me, they’re yours.” Filling the glass to the brim, he took a fortifying gulp. The light blue in his eyes clouded over and a rumbling black swirl of cyclone proportions appeared. “I want to make something very clear, Serena…” He stretched across the bar, stopping an inch from my nose. “When you’re done each night, you come to me. My bed, no one else’s. Is that clear?”

  Oh my God.

  I couldn’t speak, even if I’d wanted to. My chin dropped down and when I scraped it back up off the floor, it snapped shut so fast, my tongue vibrated along every nerve.

  A knock at the door interrupted the silence.

  When he opened it, Mylaynee’s gaze darted to me and back to him. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”

  The doorway shrunk to miniature as his enormous physique and sensual energy consumed the opening, bridging the distance. “Giving her the lay of the land: lounge, apartment, shopping.”

  “I can help with that.”

  Full attention back on me, he said, “When you get back, come to the lounge and meet up with B.B. She’ll train you tonight.”

  “You ready to go?” Mylaynee urged, excitement bouncing from her to me.

  “Sure.” At the door, Linc’s stretched, fixed position had my chest brushing his. One of the crochet loops hooked onto his shirt button, snapping me back a step. My surprised breath caught a whiff of his intoxicating cologne, the taste stinging my tongue and reminding me of our passionate kiss. I pressed two fingers on my lips, trying to get the tingles to stop and numbness to go away.

  A warm palm cupped my cheek. Linc ducked down to my height, holding me in his gaze. The earlier storm dissolved before my eyes, replaced by a youthful luminance. A dimple appeared above the crease of his lip, like a glimmering star positioned northeast, guiding weary wanderers in a new direction.

  He used the pad of his thumb to outline my lips, tracing the ridge, into the dip, then back down, trailing across the bottom and stopping where my fingers had been.

  My face heated, and went from blushing to red hot as I ducked and scurried into the hallway, ending up next to a beaming Mylaynee.

  “Show her your place then take her to Forté.” He shot another glance my way, but didn’t say anything. Instead his prodding chin signaled, get going.

  Mylaynee guided me into an adjoining vacant room just like any other New York City high-end lounge. Around the perimeter, plush cushioned high back chairs situated at round mirror-top tables and a vintage bar with pearlescent inlays framing a mahogany base completed the furnishings. Behind it, three shelves lined the wall from one end to the other and were stocked full of a wide assortment of liquors, some in glass vaults with key locks. Wow, I’d never seen that before. At least thirty on the top shelf, it had to be very expensive to keep that secure.

  “You ready? We’re going that way.” She pointed toward an exit on the left, and I followed her like an imprinting duckling, tracking each step. I crossed my fingers, hoping she’d take me under her wing and help me find my way through unfamiliar territory.

  She turned around, linked her arm through mine, and offered an encouraging smile, making me believe she would.

  Mylaynee showed me around her place, an open space concept quadruple the size of my soon to be former apartment. The living areas had tons of natural light pouring in through wall-to-wall sliding glass doors. Out on the balcony, the stunning scenery included a beautiful bay with motorboats and fishing trawlers. I crossed my fingers once again, wishin
g for the same view.

  Back inside, she motioned me to a stool and entered a kitchen decked out with stainless steel appliances, granite counter tops, and cherry wood cabinets. She pulled a jug of tea from the fridge and shook it. “You want some?”

  “Sure.” I scanned the living and dining areas. The terra cotta walls and walnut wainscoting made the room warm and homey. Masks with various expressions in a rainbow of colors accented one spot. Two sofas in the living room and the dinette chairs had woven, geometric patterned upholstery. Tables constructed of holey driftwood with dark and light striations gave it a naturalistic vibe. A style Mother Earth would be proud of and might reveal a little about her ethnicity. Her darker complexion, high-angled cheeks, and slim oval eyes resembled Asian or Native American heritage. The overall combination and her classy clothes must drive men crazy.

  Before she turned around and gave me one of the full glasses, I realized I’d been staring. To play it off, I looked outside, appreciating the way the sunshine brightened the room. “You have a nice place.”

  “Thanks. If you need any help let me know. I love decorating.” She extended a glass to me, while taking a sip from hers. “The interview went well?”

  Not wanting to reveal too many personal details, I displayed my best poker face. “Linc said I’d be exclusive. Is that something he does with new escorts?”

  Her brows scrunched, and she set her drink on the counter. “Exclusive? H-he told you that?”

  Crap. Was it code for something illicit in this business? I gripped the counter, bracing for the worst and nodded.

  She dashed around the half wall and sat next to me with wide eyes. “Since I’ve been here that’s never happened.” She grabbed my arm and shook it. “Clients can arrange to be with one woman for a specified time, if she agrees.”

  I fell back in my seat. “I don’t understand. He said I’m to come to his bed and no one else’s.”

  She stared at me. “Hot damn, girl! That means you’re exclusive to him.” Her hand on my arm tightened, and she shook me again, this time almost knocking me off the stool.