LOVER FOR PAY: The Escort & The Teacher (M/M)

by A. J. Blake

  “Damn,” London sounded disappointed, and Marbell felt himself drain. “I really wanted to be able to see you again since...well, isn’t your wife coming back tomorrow, too?”

  “Yeah...” Marbell pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’m so sorry.”

  London sighed through the receiver, “It’s okay,” he said, but Marbell knew it was a lie. None of this was supposed to be okay.

  “I’m sending my driver to pick you up. He’ll take you to the jet and make sure you take off. Just text me to let me know when you get there.”

  “I will and I hope to see you soon this week, Marbell. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, London. Goodbye.”

  When the line cut, Marbell locked his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. His entire world was spinning, and the only way to make it stop was to know Vivian and London wouldn’t run head-on into each other today. He was scared and angry at the same time, and a deep loathing for himself blanketed itself all around him. “Fuck...” he whispered.

  This could be it for him.

  It hadn’t taken long for London to pack since they hadn’t really unpacked in the first place. The only thing that seemed challenging at the time was finding out how he was going to lug all of Joyce’s new toys out of the apartment. After finding two big enough duffel bags in Marbell’s closet, he was sure the man wouldn’t mind him borrowing them for the time being. When they had everything of theirs, London took Joyce’s hand as Henry followed him out the door.

  “I’m going to miss this beautiful palace,” the teenager whined.

  London locked the door behind them, “Aren’t you excited to be going back to our childhood home, though?”

  Henry rolled his eyes, “You’re either joking or crazy. I’m going to go with joking just for the sake of your sanity.”

  Going down the elevator, London admitted he’d miss the place, too. Not that it was nice and far better than his home back in Anavrin had ever been, which it was, but he was going to miss going to bed with Marbell beside him each night, waking up to know he was coming back to him at the end of the day. Even though it’d just been two days, London had gotten used to having Marbell all to himself, and he knew traveling back home was going to ruin that.

  When they all stepped out of the elevator together, the small family nearly ran into a blonde woman trying to make her way into it. Without sharing a word, London couldn’t help but notice the perpetual irritation she carried into the atmosphere. “Do you mind?” she said with a huff, looking him up and down like he was the last person who belonged in a place like the expensive apartment building.

  Ignoring her discourtesy, London moved his family out of her way and they headed out, homeward bound, where everything would go back to the way they were before.

  XVI – Encounter

  Just striking five o’clock in the evening, Marbell was now boarding his private jet back to Texas, Vivian now tagging along with him since her early return to the states. After his long and tiresome day at the office, it hadn’t felt good to come back to an apartment absent London. Even with it having been those few days, Marbell had grown attached to the idea of having someone to come home to, someone who actually meant something to him anyway. But, instead, he’d walked back into a life with a woman who could scarcely stand him.

  Vivian hadn’t always been the angry woman she was today, and although Marbell never once loved her, she’d taken a roll as his friend once before. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she used to genuinely smile at him and laugh with him, and want so much for him. Before everything went spiraling downward, there was much more to Vivian Harrison than simply being a tyrant of a wife. There’d been times in their odd marriage when they laughed more together, and enjoyed being around one another for the company. Now, it was like a chore.

  Seated apart on the jet, Marbell checked his text messages after the pilot took off. There was a message from London at the top of his screen that read: Made it back safe. I miss you already. Love you to the ends of the universe and back.

  Marbell smiled at the message and tucked his phone away.

  Suddenly, then, Vivian plopped down in his lap and draped her arms around his neck. Marbell looked up at her, dumbfounded, and cleared his throat. “What are you doing?”

  The blonde woman smiled down at him, her breasts a little too close to his face for comfort. Running a soft hand down his face, Vivian said, “Am I not allowed to take place in my dearest husband’s lap? Surely you’ve missed your wife’s touch.” Making herself comfortable against him, she continued. “When exactly was the last time we had sex? I’ve always wanted to be part of the mile-high club.”

  Filled with discomfort, Marbell gently pushed Vivian from on top of him. “It’s been a year and you said we never had to do it again.”

  “Aw,” Vivian’s lip trembled with a fake frown, “But I’ve missed your amazing cock inside me.”

  Marbell gave her a disgusted look, “Stop talking like that.”

  “Why?” Vivian countered, her voice becoming much more serious now, “Is there something you’re dying to tell me?”

  “N – No,” Marbell stuttered, “It’s just, you said we would never have to have sex anymore. You promised.”

  Vivian rolled her eyes, sitting on the armrest of one of the seats across from Marbell. With her arms crossed, eyes dark and narrow, she said, “I also remember a promise you made to me when we first tied the knot, and I will quote you word for word. Listen closely, now, I wouldn’t want you missing a thing. The moment I became your lawfully wedded wife, you said to me, ‘I, Marbell Matthews, take you, Vivian Harrison, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do us part’. Written between the lines of those vows is a little something called faithfulness.”

  Then Vivian paused, as if giving Marbell a moment to let what she’d said sink in. “What are you getting at...?” he asked.

  Not saying anything more, Vivian pulled a piece of folded up paper from her purse on the floor of the jet and tossed it like a disc towards him. It landed in Marbell’s lap and he took it, unfolding it with caution. Written on the eight by eleven paper was an intimate note left behind by London, one Marbell was sure he’d been intended to find once he got back from the office that evening.

  He swallowed hard and looked up at Vivian. “Go ahead,” the woman snarled, “Read the damn thing.”

  Marbell,

  I can hardly express to you how much this trip meant to me. It was only a couple days, but the time spent with you this weekend felt like a century, one that I never wanted to see end. Having you around me and the kids gave me so much hope that one day you and I would take our relationship to another level. One day I want to be able to wake up beside you and call you mine, knowing you don’t belong to anyone else. For the life of me I can’t begin to explain how much I really do love and care about you, and to know you feel the same will help me get through this week since I’m sure we probably won’t be able to see each other. Just know I’m thinking of you, and if you find even the smallest timeframe in your schedule to contact me, please do, because I need you. That’s the only way I know how to say it. I need you, and I don’t want to live without you. Please, don’t abandon me now or ever.

  Yours Today, Yours Tomorrow

  London

  After reading the letter addressed to him, Marbell’s heart sunk, but not because he’d been caught by Vivian. His heart sunk because of the words written on this creased piece of paper. Never would he have guessed in the past that he’d meet someone who could love him as much as London did, and there was no question at all in the matter. London didn’t want a cent of Marbell’s money. The only thing he wanted was Marbell’s heart and devotion. And it was strange to think that someone who was so unfamiliar with love and the workings of it, always seemed to be able to come up with the most endearing things to s
ay. London had gone on about never knowing true affections, but his way with words was so practiced, developed, in a way.

  Vivian jumped up quickly and snatched the letter from Marbell, and without second thought tore it into little tiny pieces. “I find it laughable that you thought you could slip by me with a secret like this. An affair, Marbell, really?” She shook her head and sprinkled the pieces of paper on the floor. “And what kind of name is ‘London’, anyway? His mother must have been on crack.”

  “Vivian...” Marbell said, his tone like a warning.

  “What?” she barked back, “Are you in love with this guy, too? Trying to play house with some lowlife while I’m away?” Vivian faked a cry and rubbed her eyes as though tears were falling down her face. “I’m so hurt, Marbell. How could you do this to me? Oh, my god, my heart is shattering at this very moment.” Piercing him with her eyes, Vivian then crossed her arms. “You are so naïve if you are seriously falling for this bullshit. He’s using you, dumbass.”

  “Like you aren’t?” Marbell countered, “You’re the last person to be talking.”

  “Yeah, but-.”

  “But, what,” Marbell cut her off, “You have never cared about me. Ever since the day we met, I doubt you’ve wanted nothing more than to hold me back to mooch off of my success.”

  Vivian gasped, exasperated, and it couldn’t have sounded more sarcastic if she tried. “Without me, baby, you’d have lost that opportunity at helping your father run his company. If that man knew you took dick in the ass from some stranger behind your wife’s back, he’d keel over and curse you from his grave.”

  Marbell shot up from his seat and walked to the back of the jet. There was a minibar with small glasses and liquor. Pouring himself a cup of the toxin, he threw it back, and said, “Nothing you say will change the fact that I love him.”

  “I swear to god,” Vivian growled, chucking her purse at Marbell, “You will not humiliate me by divorcing me for a fucking guy!”

  Her purse struck him in the chest and knocked the wind out of him a little. Dropping his glass, it shattered upon impact with the carpet of the jet, and he lurched forward a bit.

  Suddenly, Vivian was in his face. She shoved two hard hands against his small framed chest, his back hitting the edge of the bar’s counter. “I will not waste a second to tell your father of your disgusting ways, and he will disown you, throw you away.” She shoved him again, “He will ruin you, and I am the only person who can protect you from that.”

  Marbell put a hand over his chest, a soreness rising from the power in Vivian’s force. “Maybe I don’t want your so called protection anymore.”

  Hearing that only made Vivian even more furious, and if she’d been trying to control her anger before, the attempt erupted when she raised a hand and struck Marbell across the face, the slap like a gunshot in the air. His bottom lip had burst as well, and a thin stream of blood trailed down to his chin.

  Covering his stinging mouth, Marbell immediately tasted the blood.

  Vivian stared up at her husband, and said, “I will end you if you ever leave. Do you hear me? And if you continue this fucking affair with that piece of shit, I will make his life a living hell, too.”

  Nearing ten o’clock at night, London sat up in the living room. It sucked being back in this hellhole he called home, but this was the only place he had. During the entire flight back, London had kept reminding himself that one day all of this would blow over, and soon he would have the happy ending he’d always dreamed of. The day he came up with the idea of having sex for money to provide for his family, was the day London had given up on living the life every human being deserved. He hadn’t seen anything remotely positive happening to him in his future. All he’d seen were strangers that only wanted his body for personal pleasures. And for a time, London had settled with that. If him living that prostitute-like lifestyle kept food in his sibling’s stomachs, and clothes on their backs, London was willing to sacrifice his everything for it: body, dignity, soul.

  But...to know there was someone out there that didn’t want him to resort to that anymore, someone out there who saw him as a man instead of a mere sex object, London could almost physically feel his self-worth rebuilding with each minute that went by.

  Anxious to hear from Marbell, London whipped out his cellphone and sent a straight forward message:I want to see you.

  Not long after, he received a reply:Pick a place and we’ll meet.

  London smiled and sent:Green Light bar on Fifth Street?

  See you there.

  London jumped up and turned off the television. Henry and Joyce were already asleep for the night, and if everything turned out well, he wanted to invite Marbell back to the house. If anything, London wanted a night of making love before they spent so much time apart.

  He changed into a pair of jeans, a white graphic tee, and tucked in the laces of his shoes. After checking on his brother and sister, he grabbed his keys, locked up the house, and was gone. Green Light was a bar London used to frequent with one of his old clients. They’d been the type of client that looked for company instead of sex, and London had taken a liking to the bar. It was charming and the total opposite of a hyper sports bar or somewhere like Wonderland. On the edge of the city, it was a small brown bricked building sat behind a movie theater. Given it was Sunday night, there weren’t many people around, but cars were still parked in the lot, including Marbell’s that was furthest from the entrance.

  London parked as well and slipped the keys into his pocket, making his way inside after checking his hair and teeth in the door’s mirror. After giving his fringe a messy rustle, he smiled at his reflection and went in.

  Upon stepping through the doors, London looked around. Green Light was a comfortable spot with a dim atmosphere, low classic rock music playing, and football memorabilia everywhere. Not able to spot Marbell right away, London moved toward a booth at the back of the room. There were two men sitting at the bar engrossed in a rerun of a golfing match that’d taken place over the weekend, a lonely elderly man sipping a cold beer at a table in the center, a black-haired woman sobbing into her many empty shot glasses, and another blond woman was sat at the bar.

  As he eyed the guests, London couldn’t help but notice the blond woman didn’t quite fit the profile of someone who would attend a low-key bar at the edge of the city this late at night. She was dressed in tight blue jeans, a black and yellow striped shirt, and a white blazer, hair styled up in a jeweled dragonfly clip. A second later she cocked her head in his direction and a curious look washed over his face. This woman, she was the same one he’d seen up in New York this afternoon. Either it was the same one, London thought, or he was seeing things...and he was pretty sure he wasn’t just imagining her.

  Whoever she was, she smiled at London like she’d just recognized an old friend from high school. Making her way over to him, London couldn’t help but get a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Hi,” she greeted with her hand out. “You’re my husband’s little boyfriend, no?”

  Holy fucking shit...

  London stared uncomfortably at the woman who continued to smile at him, and he didn’t take her outstretched hand. She looked far too okay with him for his liking. There was no way a woman would just be happy to find her husband’s partner in affair sitting directly in front of her.

  Thinking a quick moment, London swore in his head over and over. His text hadn’t been seen by Marbell at all. It was her who’d agreed to meet him, and he had happily made his way over like the desperate lover he was.

  Sliding into the booth across from London, Vivian folded her hands atop the table and leaned back into the seat. She seemed to study London and his appearance, taking in the sleeve clusters of tattoos decorating his arms, the one peeking out onto his neck from the low-lined collar of his shirt. To put it simple, someone like London had not been what she’d expected to find walking into the Green Light. Truthfully, she’d been looking forward to finding s
ome scrawny intern with a basic look to him, a young clean-cut guy dressed casually. But, she had to admit that London was the polar opposite of her expectations, he was a couple steps above it.

  “Well,” Vivian shrugged, “I’ll admit that my husband sure does know how to pick a looker, but that doesn’t’ change the fact that you’re encroaching my marriage, and I’m going to have to ask you to stop seeing him.”

  London said nothing.

  Vivian kept her tone professional, “You see, Mister London, my husband has this bizarre idea that he can never be held down for a long period of time. Meaning, you are not the first person he has tried to bring between our marriage. One of the last had been a sweet Japanese girl he pampered during his time in Asia a year ago, and just six months ago, it was another French male model he promised the world and a brighter career, and at the end of all these affairs, he’s always come running back to me.”

  With the words sinking in, London admitted that they tasted sour, but he wasn’t going to be fooled by this woman. With the things Marbell had shared about her, it was clear she had a knack for manipulation. “You’re lying,” he said nonchalantly.

  She sighed, “I always wonder what it is about my dearest husband that can so easily convince you and the ones before that he’s faithful enough to love you forever. My husband is an amiable man, but he can be quite the liar.”

  “If you feel that way,” London said, “Why the hell are you still with him?”

  Vivian clutched her hands together, like an impulse, and it did not go unnoticed. “Because I love him,” she said sweetly. “We met in college and-.”

  “I know the story already,” London cut her off, “I don’t need to hear a new one.”

  “Tell me, then,” Vivian’s lip twitched, “What story has my husband spun for you? The one before was rather nice. Apparently he was a very lonely man whose wife traveled far too much, and he was a despairing man looking for someone’s touch. The stories of how he got that scar on his chest are always my favorite, though. Was he in a house fire this time? Or maybe he ran into a burning building to save some children? It’s amazing the stories you can weave about a scar left behind by a cooking accident.”