by Mel Teshco
Maisey’s voice cut straight to the chase. “You’ve had a cancellation.”
Her shock was less at Maisey’s faintly accusatory tone and a whole lot more by the fact that someone had cancelled. She was booked solid for months in advance and had never once had someone rescind on their “date.”
“Who?” she asked carefully, sounding normal in every way, if only she wasn’t shrinking inside until she was again that little girl no one loved.
“Smitherson.”
Mackenzie Smitherson. Her too-familiar feelings of inadequacy were quickly superseded by relief. A smile curled her lips. With any luck, her client had come to his senses in regards to Claire…Scarlet. Brandy’s smile faltered. Maybe that would be a bad thing? Escorts were paid sex workers. Relationships weren’t part of the package, and Scarlet stood to be hurt even more if things dragged out.
She cleared her throat. “He’s booked for tonight. Is he sick?”
Maisey huffed out a breath. “Sounded pissed as hell, but healthy as a horse.”
What the hell?
“Has he booked with one of the other girls?” she asked cautiously.
She had to be careful. Maisey was a bulldog when it came to privacy. The older woman was all too gifted at vocally flaying the girls if any one of them stepped out of line. But despite the cancellation, Maisey seemed relatively calm.
“No, you haven’t lost your regular. Not yet, anyway.”
She blew out a slow breath. Aside from Blaine, Mackenzie was fast becoming her best customer. A regular client who treated her well and paid even better. He was another powerful businessman and client who was quite the catch, as Scarlet had discovered to her detriment.
But Scarlet’s predicament was precisely the road Brandy was heading down with Blaine. A path she had to exit sooner rather than later.
She nodded absently. At least she’d be alone tonight to lick her wounds. And quietly yearn for Blaine.
“Never mind though,” Maisey added into the silence, her voice clearly appeased, “I’ve managed to rebook you with another regular.”
Her heart sank. “Actually, I’d prefer not to—”
Maisey’s voice turned cajoling. “It’s triple the going rate.”
She should have known. Blaine. It had to be. Odd the quickening of her pulse, the pull of her belly and the shortness of her breath that had zilch to do with her exercise regime and all to do with her pathetic needs. She cleared her throat once again, needing verification. “Who?”
“Waymann.” Maisey said his name meaningfully and Brandy heard something in the other woman’s tone that hinted she could do far worse.
Well, duh. If she wasn’t in the escort business, she would have slept with Blaine for free—not that she’d have met him anyway, unless she’d somehow managed to claw her way up into the high social echelons he kept.
Silence breached the conversation for a moment as Brandy sifted through her thoughts and temptation suckered her in. Tonight could be her final hurrah, the grand finale before she said goodbye to him one last time.
She took a deep breath. “Okay.”
“I knew you’d come to your senses. He’ll be expecting you. Six p.m. sharp,” Maisey said, voice brisk and business-like again. “I’ll send you the car. Oh, and one more thing. He said dress casual.”
As opposed to wearing a slutty outfit suited to a night of whoring in his bed?
As the connection abruptly cut, Kate clutched the cell as if it was a lifeline. It wasn’t. An odd sense of knowing came over her. Blaine had orchestrated the whole thing, had paid Mackenzie off, or more likely, called in a favor to have her all to himself.
A surge of irrational pleasure was thrust aside to make way for an unhealthy dose of resentment.
Fuck.
Her whole career could be at stake, thanks to Blaine’s obsessive nature.
It appeared he’d really meant it when he’d told her she’d pay.
She tossed her cell phone back into her bag before she lifted her chin and walked the ten minutes to her chic, inner-city apartment. If Blaine wanted her that badly tonight, then so be it.
But this would definitely be their last time together.
Chapter Four
‡
Blaine stood on the balcony of his townhouse, a brandy snifter in hand, while he gazed out over the darkening sky of the city. Twilight was settling over Sydney.
This time of day usually relaxed him. Even after hours in the office, he took the time to appreciate the changing of day to night. But this time he was restless, and all but blind to the picturesque sundown unfolding before his eyes.
Not even business matters could distract him from the woman who’d gotten under his skin and lodged deep in his heart. His every thought was consumed by her; even asleep, he dreamed about her.
He took a deep slug of his drink. Only a few nights ago, he’d dreamed that Kate—she’d always be Kate to him now, not Brandy—had walked toward him in a wedding gown. She’d looked radiant in a white lace creation and wispy veil, with her strawberry-blonde hair drifting over one shoulder and a bouquet of crimson roses in hand.
She might be far from being a virgin, but the virtuousness of the wedding dress had looked perfect on her. No doubt because she was as pure of heart as any woman he’d ever met, a beautiful seductress who glowed with inner goodness.
A man could all too easily lose himself to her. Hell, he’d lost himself to her from the very first moment he’d seen Brandy at a function with another client. Until that moment, he’d never believed in fairytales, or even true love. That she was a call girl hadn’t ever bothered him. He grimaced. Jesus, he’d be beyond hypocritical to use the services of an escort agency and then hold any of the girls in contempt.
Not that he needed an escort to get laid. Women had always come onto him, and he’d never felt the need to go slow in a relationship, until Kate. He might be paying for her services, but he’d been courting her in every way except in the bedroom.
He swallowed the last of his brandy, barely tasting the burn going down his throat.
Sex with her might be uninhibited, out-and-out pleasure, but he’d handled every other aspect of their relationship with kid gloves. He had to if he had any chance with her long term.
Though call girls, by virtue of their profession, said little about themselves, he recognized in Kate a fear of true intimacy and trust. He sighed. Her issues probably hadn’t been helped by their first tryst.
He only wished now he’d been more romantic, their date not just about the sex. But at the time, he’d been consumed by her, and totally thinking with the wrong head. He’d craved her like he was addicted and had been foolish enough to presume sating himself with her would get her out of his system.
He barked out a self-deprecating laugh, even as his mind drifted to that first fateful booking.
*
Blaine paced up and down the thick, gray carpet of the luxury penthouse he’d booked for the night. Damn it, he never paced! Then again, he’d never wanted another woman as badly as he did the blonde bombshell he’d paid top dollar for a night in his bed.
Not that the money mattered to him. He had more than enough to throw around. Hell, he’d have paid ten times that amount, from the moment he’d seen her at a charity function with a well-known senator who should have been more discreet.
But the senator seemed to thrive on a little scandal—it’d been said he had outstanding taste in women. Blaine had agreed wholeheartedly, until the man had married a dowdy woman with more money and social connections than sense.
Blaine stilled, his hands clenching. He could no more imagine the senator fucking his prim and uptight wife than he could the sexalicious Brandy. In fact, he didn’t even want to think about the senator touching the same gorgeous call girl he also waited impatiently to touch, to kiss and to fuck.
It was frankly alarming that a woman he’d yet to officially meet could ignite such irrational jealousy. It was an emotion unfamiliar to him, and one h
e wouldn’t endure any longer. But he was a man of control, just the same as he was a man of action. And it would be the latter he fed tonight, control be damned!
A knock sounded on the door. His cock jerked and his belly clenched into a knot of anticipation. His control already at the razor’s edge, he strode toward the thick, mahogany door and dragged it open.
His breath caught in his throat. For the first time since…forever, he was at a loss for words. If from a distance, Brandy had been gorgeous, then up close and personal she was stunning.
Unlike the handful of paid escorts he’d been with in the past, Brandy was a breath of fresh air. Beautiful, sexy and classy in a flowing white gown with a tight-fitted, red bodice that gave a startling splash of color.
His mouth dried. He had a feeling he’d always associate this gorgeous woman with red. With passion, daring and power.
Even in stilettos, she had to crane her neck a little to look up and meet his gaze. Her eyes widened at his undoubtedly ravenous stare, her pearly white teeth grappling with her bottom lip. Then she smiled, blinking long, dark lashes that framed bright emerald eyes. A siren’s stare. “You’re expecting me,” she said huskily.
The sound of her voice had his cock stretching to impossible dimensions, his balls heavy and aching for release. He didn’t bother with small talk, instead he nodded and held out his hand. She reached out slender fingers and he drew her inside and kicked the door shut.
Her eyes widened again, even before he pushed her up against the solid wood and plundered her sexy mouth, his fingers ransacking her upswept hair. Jesus, was kissing allowed? Was it against the agency’s code? But his thoughts no sooner formed before they dissolved, his whole being focused on nothing more than taking Brandy…possessing her.
Her clutch purse dropped to the carpet with a muffled thud, and then she was kissing him back with an urgent little moan. Holy shit, she really knew how to kiss. But he’d bet Brandy had spent many years perfecting the art of seduction; of how to please a man.
Lip contact clearly wasn’t against the VIP Agency’s rulebook.
His cock strained behind his pants, and he pushed his tongue between her lips before kicking his legs apart to grind his erection between her thighs. His hands tightened on her scalp. Was she happy being with men for money? Was it her decision or did she feel she had no choice? Or was being every man’s fantasy her true calling?
Why it mattered to him barely registered, all he knew was that it did. It mattered a lot. But there’d be plenty of time to find out everything about Brandy. Right now, he was enough of a bastard to forget everything and cede to his passion; to the woman whose legs wrapped around his hips as she moaned into his mouth. Right now, all of the hundred and one questions in his head were fast becoming background noise as lust surged to the fore.
His kiss deepened and he sucked in her honeyed breath. It didn’t mean he couldn’t show her what it was to be pleasured. He’d make sure that this time she too would be at the receiving end of glorious satisfaction.
He pulled back from her, his whole body vibrating with barely withheld lust as he said succinctly, “I’m going to take you right here, right now, against the door. And I’m not going to be gentle.”
Her eyes flared in shock, and then slowly turned slumberous with heat. She nodded and said huskily, “Condoms are in my purse.”
*
His cell rang, jerking him back to the present with a start. He squeezed his eyes shut, for a moment ignoring the jarring sound as he waited until the powerful memories slipped quietly into the back of his mind. Then, dragging the phone out of his pocket, he checked caller ID before he answered.
The real estate agent wasn’t someone he wanted to ignore right now. Not when he wanted to finalize all the last, nit-picky details on his latest and most important piece of real estate.
Then he could focus tonight on Kate.
He no sooner disconnected when his cell buzzed through with another call, demanding his attention. This time he couldn’t help but smile on seeing the caller ID. “Hello, Mother.”
“Blaine, I’m glad I finally managed to catch you.”
His smile widened. His mother liked to harp on about how little time he left himself for socializing, which included family phone calls. “I’m glad too.”
Her delicate sigh told him she was slightly appeased. “I just wanted to check you hadn’t up and disappeared out of the country again.”
His mouth almost hurt from the grin pulling at his lips. “Actually, being away from home no longer has any appeal. And before you ask, I am planning on visiting you very soon.”
“See that you do. Now…why the sudden desire to stay in Sydney?” Her tone pitched higher. “Wait. Is there a special someone I should know about?”
He wondered if his mother had heard through the grapevine about the woman he’d been seeing quite a lot lately. If she had, then she’d clearly yet to discover that the same certain someone special he’d been seeing was also seeing other men.
His heart twisted in his chest, his hand tightening on his cell. Kate’s chosen profession might not bother him in some ways, but knowing she was sleeping with other men was doing in his head. Sharing her was simply no longer an option.
He just had to convince Kate that he was all she’d ever need.
“So it is true!” his mother squawked with unfettered delight.
Damn. He’d asked for that. Being lost in thought and too slow to respond hadn’t worked in his favor.
He pulled in a steadying breath. In all honesty, he wanted to proclaim to the world about the woman he loved. But that didn’t mean Kate was of the same mindset, for obvious reasons. She was a call girl, being intensely private was par for the course.
“Well?” his mother demanded.
“There…is someone I like,” he conceded carefully. He had to play this safe. The last thing he or Kate needed was for his mother to go and pry into his personal life to dig up all the facts.
“Oh, wonderful news!” his mother said gaily into his ear. “When are you seeing her next?”
He braced himself for the inescapable invite even as he said slowly, “Actually, I’m taking her out to dinner tonight.” And then to bed. He was planning a night of multiple orgasms for them both.
Good thing his mother couldn’t read his mind.
“Then bring her here first. Please Blaine,” she cajoled, “you know I’m not getting any younger.”
If there was any woman who could manipulate him at all, it was his mother. Then again, few women could say they’d taken on a business single-handedly after their so called bread-winning husband had died.
Not only had his mother taken on the fabric printing company, she’d turned it into a success. A miracle, being that the company had been on the brink of bankruptcy and she’d had no prior knowledge or experience of how to run it.
She’d learned the whole process herself, had been thrown into the deep end without a life preserver in sight. All that, and she’d been a single mother raising a boy on the threshold of becoming a teen. A young man with unresolved anger issues, but a deep and abiding love for his mother.
In the end, he was only glad he’d taken after his mother and not his good-for-nothing father who’d died of a heart attack while boozing, snorting coke and womanizing with a trio of whores.
He absently scrubbed a hand along his brow. Evidently it was his dad’s side that Blaine took after when it came to paid sex.
He grimaced, and then said carefully into the phone, “You really make it hard to refuse.”
“You know I’ll love her.”
“I’m certain you will.”
Brandy’s occupation not so much.
Although his mother was a mix of modern and old school—she’d been raised by stout Catholics and yet was open-minded in many ways—he was certain the pain and humiliation left behind by a cheating husband hadn’t diminished.
“Wonderful! I’ll expect you both for a couple of pre-dinner drinks.”
He arched a brow at her glee, staring unseeingly at the lights blinking into the darkness as he ended the call with, “Sounds good. We’ll see you then.”
He disconnected the call, then pressed speed dial to connect him to the VIP Agency. He had another booking to make for tomorrow night with Brandy, and he’d pay whatever necessary to make it happen.
Chapter Five
‡
Brandy dragged her feigned interest away from the passing shadowy bush-land outside the passenger window of Blaine’s sedan. Ignoring the fluttering in her belly, she smoothed away an imaginary crease in her lacy crimson bustier and skirt, before turning to face her client.
She withheld a sigh at Blaine’s brooding silence. No other man made her feel so cherished and self-assured; yet left her so unsettled, as though her whole world irrevocably changed with every second spent in his company.
Knowing tonight would be over sooner rather than later left her even more out of kilter. She wanted this date to end even as she wanted to cherish their remaining time together. He might be obsessed with her, but what if she too was steering that same direction for him?
Not. Going. To. Happen.
She put a hand on his thigh, stroking up and down his jeans leg and causing his muscle to contract beneath.
Whatever her feelings, it was unprofessional not to give Blaine exactly what he’d paid her for. As a high-class escort, she was exceptionally good at her job, and she’d do well to remember it. A pity her interest in him seemed lately to be less about business and more personal.
But no matter her chaotic emotions, she had to focus on her client. She’d never seen him so quiet and restrained. “Blaine, is something wrong?”
It wasn’t often that a visit to his house resulted in going out for dinner first and sex later. And though he’d been his usual gallant self, something clearly weighed on his mind.
Was he pissed about coming home to an empty house on their last date? He should have been grateful. Sex with her was costing him a small fortune, but leaving her to sleep alone a whole night in his bed would be a luxury few men would consider. Not that Blaine seemed to care about the steep escort rates.
