Escorting the Billionaire (The Escort Collection #1)

by Leigh James

  Probably, it was going to be a combination of all of these. But none of it would be enough to keep up with Tommy’s rent. I couldn’t even bear the thought. Before he’d moved in there, he’d lived with my mother. It was a bad situation. My mother was, at best, a drunk. At her worst, she was an irresponsible, abusive user. She’d almost set their apartment on fire three times over the last couple of years by passing out with a lit cigarette in her hand. It wasn’t safe for Tommy there. She never bought him the food he liked or took him to the library. And then there was the string of dirty men she brought home.

  I’d tried to move him in with me but I couldn’t do it and work. He needed someone to watch him, to take care of him. Once he’d wandered off and once he’d burned himself trying to make a grilled cheese. New Horizons was the right place for him; it was the happiest he’d ever been.

  I needed to help him, and now I couldn’t help him.

  I let the tears come then, hot and ugly. And then just as quickly as they’d come, they stopped. Winners never quit and quitters never win, I told myself, wiping my eyes roughly. I’d read that quote somewhere, and I often repeated it to myself, even though my definition of “winning” was probably wildly different from most people’s.

  I made myself sit up—I wasn’t any good to anyone if I was just sitting here and wallowing. I’d found a way to keep Tommy safe this long, I reasoned. I could still do it.

  I could do it because I had to do it.

  I got up and washed my face. I had the idea of going to the library; they had computers and Internet access. I could look for a job online. Part of me wondered whether I’d be able to google “escort services” or “exotic dancer positions” at the public library, but it was better than sitting here, cursing James Preston for firing me and sniffling into my T-shirt.

  The phone rang as I was getting dressed. It was Elena. I took a deep breath before I answered it, preparing for the worst. Maybe James had taken my clothes and thrown them all out. Maybe he’d told her that I’d stolen from her, and that he was going to press charges. He wouldn’t do that, part of me wailed, but that was the same part that had believed he’d cared for me.

  The common sense part of me bitch-slapped that part, hard, so she’d be quiet.

  “Dre,” she said.

  “Yes?” I asked, willing myself not to start crying all over again.

  “You’re back in my good graces, young lady. I just got off the phone with James Preston—he says he wants you back. He made it clear that he only wants you. He also very generously offered to triple the fee for our trouble. Half is now coming directly to you, per his very specific instructions.”

  I couldn’t breathe. I stood there, reeling for a bunch of different reasons. I wasn’t good at math, but this was pretty easy to figure out—three hundred thousand dollars. Holy fucking shit.

  “It appears you have nine lives, Dre. But only seven left.”

  “What?” I spluttered, finally finding enough breath to talk. “What did he say, exactly?”

  “Just what I told you. Oh—and one more thing,” Elena said.

  She waited a beat.

  “He said that this time, he wants to fuck you.”

  James

  In the Stratum's gym, I made myself run hard. Then I lifted weights. I did squats. Lunges. Pull-ups. An attractive young blonde nearby kept looking at me, smiling. She started following me on the weight circuit, that stupid friendly smile plastered on her face.

  Finally, I just turned and glared at her. “I’m not interested,” I said before she even had the chance to say hello. She just raised her eyebrows and, scowling, backed away.

  Smart girl.

  My phone rang, and for a second, my heart stopped. Audrey. But of course, I’d driven her away so cruelly that it wasn’t her. It wasn’t ever going to be her.

  Instead, it was Elena.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “Mr. Preston,” she said in an apologetic tone, “I just got off the phone with Dre. I am so sorry.”

  “What did she tell you?” I asked.

  “That you fired her. She wasn’t forthcoming with a reason, but I can only imagine,” she said. “The wedding is this weekend—please, let me make it up to you. Let me send another girl. You can tell your family that you’ve been dating her on the side, and that at the last moment, you decided to bring her as your guest instead.”

  “Elena,” I said, wiping my face roughly with a towel, “that’s a stupid fucking idea.”

  I heard her sigh. “What do you want me to say? We have to figure something out. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “You mean you don’t want to lose my business, and you don’t want me saying bad things about your service.”

  “That’s certainly true,” she said, “but I also don’t want to leave you stranded right before these big events. Please tell me what I can do to make this better.”

  I watched the blonde I’d scared off eyeing me warily from her spot on the treadmill. I thought of my perfect apartment upstairs, immaculate and barren.

  “Please tell Audrey I’d like her to come back. I’ll triple the fee for her troubles. You need to ensure me that half of that money will go directly to her. She’s the one earning it.”

  “Of course, Mr. Preston,” she said, and I heard barely concealed glee in her voice.

  I watched the blonde begin to run, her tits bouncing up and down. But I only thought of Audrey. How she’d arched beneath me last night, moaning. How she’d slept in my arms.

  “And Elena, please tell her that this time, I would like to enjoy the full range of her services.”

  * * *

  I had Kai take me to her right after I took a shower. I was worried that if I let more time pass, she would run away and hide.

  I called Elena again from the car. “I need her street number, please,” I said.

  “Mr. Preston, I don’t usually—”

  “I’m in her neighborhood right now. Give it to me,” I snapped.

  I repeated it to Kai, and he turned down the street into a sad-looking neighborhood. The yuppies had clearly not gotten to this part of town yet. The row houses were all triplexes, in various stages of sagging. Audrey’s was painted a bright turquoise; the paint was peeling in large, insidious-looking curls.

  I went up and rang her buzzer.

  “What,” she said flatly.

  “It’s me,” I said. “James. I’m here to pick you up.”

  There was nothing but dead silence for a moment, and I held my breath. I wasn’t sure what she was going to do. I buzzed again.

  “Audrey.”

  “What,” she said again.

  “Let me up.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said and buzzed me in.

  I went up the ramshackle, worn stairs to her apartment, located on the second floor. The building smelled foul, of odd spices and indoor cats. I knocked, and she opened the door, a neutral look plastered across her face.

  “I could have just come to you, you know,” she said, stepping aside so I could enter. “You don’t need to see this—it’s not exactly the penthouse condo at The Stratum.”

  I went past her into the apartment. It was neat and clean but otherwise in very sad shape. The sagging hardwood floors were worn thin. It was a studio, so the so-called kitchen opened onto the main living space. Her oven looked as if it were built for a doll. There was a forlorn purple futon in the middle of the room. Other than a boxy television set and a stunted-looking spider plant, that was pretty much it.

  “I thought you made decent money with Elena,” I said, looking around.

  “I do,” she said. “But I have other people to take care of.”

  “Your brother.”

  She nodded, her face impassive. I was pretty sure her brother was the only reason she’d agreed to come back to me.

  I stood there, clenching and unclenching my fists. Audrey said nothing. Her face looked puffy and red, as if she’d been crying.

  “Are you read
y to go?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said formally.

  I wasn’t sure how to handle her right now, or what to say. I just wanted her back. The dark mix of emotions behind that want, the pressing need I had to be with her—all of that got shoved to the back of my mind, where I could ignore it at my leisure.

  “Audrey…” I grabbed her arm and pulled her to me, but she was as stiff as a board against my embrace. I immediately let her go. I couldn’t stand to feel her like that, indifferent and limp against me. I remembered her face last night. She’d smiled at me at one point, when I was on top of her. And I’d known then what I knew right now.

  But I didn’t let myself think about it. Instead, I led my highly compensated prisoner out the door and pondered my next move.

  Audrey

  James had now seen my flea-trap apartment. He knew about my brother. He’d been inside me every which way, and he knew what I tasted like. He knew what I sounded like when I came…

  What I sounded like screaming his name.

  He had all of my ugly pieces laid before him, exposed.

  I didn’t want to be in this position—getting back into his car, Kai studiously not looking at me.

  I knew my face was puffy, and I knew James knew why.

  I hated him.

  But I needed him.

  Not him, I reminded myself—I needed his money. I had to keep Tommy at the home. If I could finish this job, I would make enough money to pay for his expenses for a long time. And I could try to earn as much as possible in the meantime, to finally get ahead for once in my life. Maybe I could even stop turning tricks. Go back to school. Get a day job.

  This could be a dream come true. It would be like a winning lottery ticket.

  But to get to that place, I had to be with James again.

  And all I wanted to do was run.

  I sighed, resigned, and slid into the seat. James closed the door behind us and stared out the window. He didn’t bother trying to touch me again after our awkward embrace upstairs. And yet, he’d told Elena that he now wanted me for sex.

  He was buying. I would give him what he wanted. Even though I wanted to run, I would make myself stay. I would go to the remaining events and the wedding, and then I would spend the following week on the beach with his family. I would pretend to be his adoring girlfriend. I would bend over backward for him, come when he called, and suck his cock so hard he would have an atomic orgasm. If that’s what he wanted.

  We drove over the bridge and back into the city. The early-morning traffic was just picking up. I looked up at the buildings in the Financial District, and I remembered how he’d wrapped his arms around me last night, the way he’d looked at me. I thought I’d seen something in his eyes, something that mirrored what I’d been feeling. My heart twisted. It was all a lie, and it was no one’s fault but my own. I’d lied to myself, and I could no longer pretend that there was something between us.

  Don’t think about it, I warned myself.

  If I’d ever felt like a whore, it was now.

  * * *

  James ignored me the rest of the way to the Stratum. He ignored me in the lobby and in the elevator, opting instead to send out texts furiously on his phone.

  That was fine by me.

  I’d only been gone from the apartment for a little while, but it didn’t seem the same when I came back. It seemed colder, less inviting. Exactly like James.

  “Where’s the dinner tonight?” I asked, willing my voice to stay neutral.

  “This afternoon is actually the photo shoot, followed by a cocktail hour,” he said. “Evie somehow wrangled New England Brides Magazine into featuring the wedding in an upcoming issue. They want to get pictures of the families and the wedding party ahead of time. Then we’re going for drinks somewhere in the Leather District. I’d like you to come, of course,” he said.

  “Of course,” I said. Anything he asked of me, I was going to do. I was here to perform.

  He put down his phone and looked at me. “You seem like you’re being… accommodating,” he said. There was an undercurrent to his voice that tugged at me.

  I shrugged. “I’m here to do whatever you want, James. I’m yours for the next nine nights.”

  “Is that all I have left?”

  “If I’m doing the math right,” I said.

  He walked over to me slowly. I noticed for the first time that he was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, not his customary suit, and that he hadn’t shaved. He looked a little rough around the edges. It was only a few hours ago that he’d held me in his arms, his skin on my skin. Heat pooled in my belly as he approached me, but an icy fear circled my heart. I didn’t want to want him. I didn’t want to look at his big stupid biceps and the shadow of a sexy beard forming on his face.

  He came close to me and then stopped. I froze in fear, worried he was going to touch me, worried that I was going to have to perform already, when I couldn’t even bear to be near him like this. “We have all day before the shoot. I have to make a few more calls, but then I’m free,” he said. “What would you like to do?”

  I looked at him and shivered. Was it really only a few days ago that we went to the Red Sox game, laughing and drinking beer? Was it really only last night that he’d made love to me and run his hands down my body reverently? Things between us had changed so quickly that I had emotional whiplash.

  “Whatever you’d like, James,” I said, hoping I sounded obedient.

  “I’ll see you in my bedroom in fifteen minutes, then,” he said. His face was impassive, and his voice gave nothing away.

  I wanted to run from the apartment, screaming. I didn’t want this. “Of course,” I said, squashing my feelings. I didn’t want this, but I needed it. Knowing the difference was what being an adult was all about.

  That’s why being an adult sucked so hard.

  I left and went to my room so that I could change. I chose some expensive lingerie that Elena had packed for me. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. If a whore was what he wanted, a whore was what he was going to get.

  * * *

  The one trick that Jenny had taught me was to think of it like a movie. If it was bad, she’d said, pretend you were watching it and that it was happening to someone else. If the movie took a turn for the worst and got really scary, just close your eyes, she said. Then it would be as if it never happened.

  I started pretending this was a movie right now. I needed this to be an out-of-body experience in the most desperate way. I put on a black lace thong, a garter, sheer black stockings, and a very sexy push-up bra. The outfit was over-the-top escort. I shook my hair out in loose waves around my shoulders. I picked out black spiked heels, and then I sprayed my mouth with breath spray about a thousand times. My heart was beating rapidly in my chest, but I ignored it, trying to get myself under control. I even tried yoga breathing, taking a breath in through one nostril and breathing it out through the other.

  It just made me have a coughing fit.

  Finally, I calmed down. James was not my first John, nor was he my first disappointment. I went down the hall to his bedroom, my heels clicking loudly. This is the part where the heroine shows the hero what she’s made of, I thought. But that was only in a regular movie. In a porno, this was where the heroine was about to get fucked six ways from Sunday.

  I hated myself for it, but I got a little wet at the thought.

  James was waiting for me in his room. He was sitting on the bed, still tapping things into his damn phone. He didn’t even look at me as I clicked past him to the other side and stood there, trying to feign confidence and indifference.

  Finally he looked up, and I thought I saw a flicker of surprise cross his face. He quashed it immediately. “Don’t move,” he commanded. “I just want to look at you.” It was a good thing I was twenty-two and had a smoking-hot body, because this was happening in the harsh light of day. I took a deep breath as James came toward me, his eyes drinking me in greedily. I felt so exposed right now, so
different from how I’d felt last night.

  “Well, you look awfully nice for what I have planned,” he said darkly.

  “Will I do?” I asked, playing his game.

  “Oh, yeah. You’ll do nicely.”

  He went back and sat down on the bed. He leaned back against the headboard and put his arms behind his head, just relaxing and enjoying the view while I stood on display. I could see his stupid bulging biceps. I hated myself for it, but the way he was inspecting me, coupled with those stupid bulging biceps, was getting me a little more wet. I didn’t know what he had planned. My heart was beating fast.

  “Please,” he said. “Sit.” He patted the bed beside him, and I tried to sit seductively. Unfortunately, the thong was giving me a major wedgie.

  My face betrayed nothing.

  “Can you pass me that?” James asked.

  “What?” I started looking around for a tube of lubricant, a whip, or some handcuffs.

  “The remote,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I handed it to him. So I guessed we were going to watch some porn.

  James turned on New England Sports News and sighed happily. “They’re on the road. Tampa Bay. The game’s on in half an hour,” James said.

  “Huh?” I asked, thoroughly confused.

  He turned to me with a shit-eating grin on his face. “I said the Red Sox game’s on in half an hour.”

  “You want to watch the game?”

  “Don’t you?” He asked innocently.

  Well, I thought, two can play this game. “Absofuckinglutely,” I said, turning back to the television. I decided to ignore both him and my wedgie.

  James

  The Red Sox weren’t playing well, but for once, I didn’t care. Audrey was back, and she was next to me. She was also wearing some very hot black lingerie, but I wasn’t going to address that. Not yet. There were hours before the photo shoot, hours I had to spend with just her.