by Nikki Ash
Time to earn the money he gave my mom.
Bringing my mouth to his dick, I wrap my lips around the head and slowly take him all the way in. His shaft thickens as I wet his velvety flesh with my saliva. Using my hand to pump the part of his cock my mouth can’t reach, I simultaneously suck and stroke him. I can taste the saltiness of his precum. Knowing he’s close, I take his delicate balls into my hand and massage them gently. Killian lets out a guttural groan, telling me he’s close. But then his hand grabs mine—the one stroking his cock.
“Wait,” he says breathlessly. His grip is tight enough that it stops everything I’m doing. My eyes glance up at him, his dick still in my mouth, and his face is contorted in what looks like unbearable pain. “I can’t do this.” He shakes his head and pulls me into a standing position—his cock falling out of my mouth as I rise.
“You can,” I murmur. “Let me make you feel good.” My hand tries to grip his dick, but he stops me.
“I can’t,” he repeats. “You don’t understand.” He backs up and scrubs his face with his hands, trying to get himself together. He picks up the towel on the floor and wraps it around his waist. “When I found out Melanie had an abortion, I made a promise to myself.” He gives me a pleading look to understand. He thinks he’s going to hurt my feelings by rejecting me.
“The next woman I have sex with will be the woman I plan to spend my life with. I never want what happened to Melanie to happen again. If we’re in it for the long haul, she will know I’m serious and won’t run off and have an abortion.”
My heart drops into my stomach at what I was just trying to do. Seduce a man who isn’t sexually active because he lives in fear of letting down another woman. Jesus, if I’m not a fucking bitch.
Killian moves forward and I take a step back. He has no idea what my fucked up intentions were. He doesn’t have any idea what a horrible person I am. He’s good. And I’m not. I need to walk away. Leave him alone. He deserves better than anything I’m capable of giving him. I might be broken, but Killian…he’s not. He’s just a little bent.
“Have you ever thought about seeing where Melanie is now?” I ask. Killian gives me a quizzical look, so I elaborate. “You’ve been punishing yourself over something that happened over ten years ago. Yes, it’s true, you might not have handled it well, but you didn’t demand she have an abortion. She chose to run. She chose to have an abortion.”
Killian frowns but doesn’t say anything, so I continue, “You both were so young. Maybe it’s time you find her. See how she’s doing. Has she moved on? Is she married with kids? Apologize to her and hear her out as well.”
I walk past Killian to the front door. “You’re a good guy, Kill. Stop punishing yourself. Get closure and then find a sweet girl to love the hell out of.”
With a small smile, I open the door and walk out of his apartment. I barely make it halfway to the elevator when I hear his door open. “Giselle, wait,” he demands.
I stop in my place, but don’t turn around. I know what’s coming.
“Don’t leave, please. You’re right. I should go see her and get closure. I’m sorry for rejecting you. I just…well…I…” He can’t seem to word what he’s trying to say, and it would almost be comical if our situation wasn’t so fucked up. “Can you turn around and talk to me, please?” His voice is closer. His hand lands on my shoulder and he turns me around to face him. “Why did you come over? Did you see your mom today?”
“She wouldn’t let me see her, but I know what you did,” I tell him. “I came over here to seduce you. To get you to break your rules.”
He cocks his head to the side. For a guy who has had his guard up for so long, you’d think he would be able to spot a manipulative woman from a mile away.
“You paid for my mom’s medical expenses,” I hiss. “So I came over here to pay you back.”
His eyes widen in understanding. “You thought I would let you whore yourself out because I helped your mom?”
“Why not?” I throw my arms up in the air. “You gave my family thousands of dollars. It’s not like I can afford to pay you back. But I am a whore, so I can at least offer you my services.”
Killian flinches. “I told your mom I don’t want you guys to pay me back. I did it so she would get better. I did it so you could quit escorting. It’s the reason you keep pushing me away.”
When I don’t say anything, he adds, “You’re going to quit, right?”
“No, I’m not going to quit!” I yell in frustration. I know it’s not logical, but fuck! He took my options away. He can say I don’t owe him, but I do. My mom does. He shouldn’t have done what he did no matter how good his intentions were.
“Giselle,” he says my name slowly, “please don’t do this. I’m sorry for not talking to you first, but you wouldn’t have agreed.”
“Damn right, I wouldn’t have. I don’t want or need your help!” I turn on my heel, but Killian’s next words stop me in my place.
“If you walk away I’m going to tell Olivia. I’m not going to let you continue to sell your body when you have people in your life who are willing to help you. Stop being stubborn and accept our help…please.”
I press the button to the elevator, which thankfully opens right away. When I get inside, he’s still standing in the hallway, barefoot and in only a towel. His eyes are pleading, but I ignore them, glaring at him in a way that I hope conveys he better not say a word to my best friend.
After catching a cab, I head straight home. I’m walking in the door when my email pings. It’s from Bianca. I click on my schedule and almost drop my phone when I see what’s written: Killian Blake…every goddamned night this week.
“That motherfucker!” I shout, slamming the door behind me.
“Who?” Olivia asks, making me jump. Lost in myself, I didn’t realize she was home. And then I spot Reed sitting in his highchair, eating. And I just said the F word in front of him.
“Shit…I mean shoot! I didn’t mean to curse.” I walk over to Reed and give him a kiss on top of his forehead. “Hey handsome,” I coo, and he grins wide.
“Who were you cursing about?” Olivia asks again.
“It doesn’t even matter.” I wave her off. “I was just having a bad moment.” My phone dings again and I consider throwing it off our balcony. I glance at it and see it’s from Bianca confirming I received my schedule since I have a date tonight.
“I need to get going,” I tell Olivia. “I just came home to change.”
“Another date?” she asks.
“Yep,” I say as I head down the hall to my room. I quickly change out of my jeans and into a more professional outfit. I’m going to have to go speak to Bianca regarding Killian. There’s no way I’m going to spend every damn night with the man. And to top it off, if he’s on the schedule, he’s paying for my services! That only means he’s spending more money on me.
As I’m reapplying my deodorant, I hear a man’s voice and recognize it as Nick’s. I didn’t realize he was here.
“There’s something you need to know about Giselle,” he says, and my blood rushes downward. Motherfucker told Nick!
I hear Olivia say okay, and then Nick says, “Killian said he paid—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” I yell, cutting him off. Just as the words come out and Nick and Olivia look at me, the front door opens and in walks Killian—without fucking knocking. “This is none of your business,” I say to Nick. I give him a hard stare then turn my glare to the man who’s blowing my world apart.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on, please,” Olivia demands.
“Either you tell her or I will,” Killian says in a tone that tells me he will make good on his threat.
“I hate you!” I shout at him. And that’s when I realize tears are raining down my face at lightning speed.
“No, you don’t,” he says back, “but if you continue this, you’re going to hate yourself.”
“I already do,” I whisper before I run out
the door.
Seventeen
Killian
I knew telling Nick would upset Giselle, but she left me no other choice. I can’t just sit by while she continues to allow men to fuck her for a paycheck. I understand why she’s doing it. I really do. I once thought Giselle was dependent on Olivia. I thought she was living with her because it’s rent-free and she was taking advantage of her best friend. But I was wrong. Fuck, was I wrong.
When I went to the billing department at Serenity, where Giselle’s mom, Sarah, is staying at, they told me they couldn’t allow me to pay for anything without Giselle or her mom’s consent. The doctor confirmed her mom is sane enough to make decisions. She has a chemical imbalance of some sort that affects her moods—they obviously aren’t sure yet what exactly, hence her being there—but she’s able to make decisions for herself. While Giselle signed for her mom to be committed, her mom actually signed for herself to be treated.
The doctor wasn’t keen on me meeting with Sarah, but he gave her the choice, and thankfully she met with me. It was during our conversation I learned just how rough it’s been for their family over the years. Sarah’s depression affected her job, which ultimately led to her being fired and their family being dependent on Giselle’s dad’s income. It also affected her marriage as well as her relationship with her daughters. She wasn’t able to be the mom they deserved, and because of her absence, Giselle stepped into the role. Sarah also confirmed what Giselle mentioned the other night: because their father walked out on his family, Giselle is not only paying for her own student loans but is also paying for her sister’s college. And that’s on top of covering all of the household bills and her mother’s medical expenses.
The woman is working two full-time jobs and is still struggling to make ends meet. Something has to give. I didn’t tell Sarah about Giselle’s “career path,” but I did make it clear Giselle needs some relief, and I’m here to help. I could see it in Sarah’s eyes she didn’t want to accept my help. She’s been burnt by a man—her own husband—someone who promised for better or worse. But she agreed because she knew it was the right thing to do for her daughter.
“Killian, what’s going on?” Olivia asks. Reed screeches to be let out of his high chair, and Nick picks him up.
“Giselle…” Fuck, now that I’m standing here, I feel like such an asshole for telling Nick Giselle’s business. I just didn’t know what else to do. The woman is beyond stubborn. I thought if I told Nick and he told Olivia, she could talk to Giselle. I clearly didn’t think this through.
“Killian, tell me!” Olivia demands. “My best friend just ran out the door crying. Is she sick? What’s going on?”
Remembering Giselle left, I say, “I’ll let Nick tell you. I need to go find Giselle.”
I run out the door and take the elevator down. I have no clue where Giselle even went, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. When I exit the front entrance, I hear her voice. She’s sitting on a bench against the building and talking on the phone.
“I understand I need the money, but I have the right to pick who my clients are.” She must be talking to her boss, and my guess is that it isn’t the one at the design firm.
“Bianca, you don’t understand…” She pauses to listen to whatever she’s saying. “Okay, I understand. Goodbye.” She presses end on the phone call, shoves her phone into her back pocket, and lets her head hit the back of the wall with a loud sigh. I want to be mad at her stubbornness, but if I’m honest, it’s a damn turn on. Any other woman would’ve gladly taken my money. Not Giselle, though. She has a ton of baggage sitting on her shoulders and she’s hell-bent on holding it all up herself.
I sit on the bench next to her, and she glances over at me. She doesn’t even look mad anymore. She looks defeated. “So, does my best friend know I’m a whore?” Her voice is too calm, too even. She’s definitely reached her breaking point.
“You’re not a whore. You took a job to support your family, to pay for your baby sister’s school.”
“Maybe so, but it doesn’t change the fact that I spread my legs for money.” She looks down at her gloved hands, wringing them nervously. “Did you tell my mom when you spoke to her?” she whispers.
“No.” I wouldn’t do that to her. I want to help her, not humiliate her. Plus it would only hurt her mom to know what her daughter has resorted to, in order to pick up the slack in her absence. I only told Nick in hopes that Olivia would convince her to stop. I know Olivia wouldn’t judge her. She doesn’t have a judgmental bone in her body. Hell, she’s even become good friends with Nick’s ex-fiancée for God’s sake.
She nods once. “It’s not your job to take care of me and my family. That’s my job, and I don’t need or want your money, so you can stop wasting your money in an attempt to take care of me.”
I thought it was obvious I didn’t just hire her to take care of her, but I’m not going to assume anything. My assumptions are what caused me to take months to get to know the real Giselle.
“I didn’t hire you to take care of you. I hired you because I enjoy spending time with you.”
Her chest rises and falls with a soft laugh.
“I like you, Giselle, and I want to get to know you more. But I can’t do that if you’re being forced to be with other guys. You won’t quit, so I fixed the problem.”
“Apparently fixing problems is your thing,” she says dryly. I’m about to tell her it’s just money, but I stop myself. To someone like me, who earns millions of dollars a year, it’s just money, but to someone in Giselle’s position, there’s nothing just about it. It’s been ten years since I was picked up by the NFL, and it’s easy to forget where I came from.
Giselle wraps her coat around herself and shivers. It’s February in New York, and today, while it’s a bit warmer, it’s still in the high thirties. “So, what are we doing tonight?” she asks. “Whatever it is, can it be indoors?” She lifts the hood of her jacket up as small flecks of snow fall down around us, and I smile at how adorable she looks. Her cheeks and button nose are a beautiful shade of pink. She looks like one of those porcelain dolls my mom has from her childhood.
“You tell me.” I stand. “What would you like to do?”
“You’re the one paying.” She shrugs. “It’s your date.” She stands. “And to be honest, in all the years I’ve lived here, I’ve never really taken the time to experience New York. I was either taking care of my mom and sister or going to school. Then I moved to Paris for six years.” She smiles at her mention of Paris. “And since I’ve been back I’ve been working.”
I love that she just told me all that. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but even with her not thrilled with me, she’s still opening up to me.
“There has to be one thing you enjoy doing in this city,” I say.
“People watching.” She laughs. “Adrianna and I would go to Washington State Park and people watch for hours.” Her grin lights up her face.
“Then let’s go people watch.” I take her hand in mine.
“It’s too cold!” She laughs some more.
“I have an idea.” Still holding her hand, I pull her down the street to flag a cab. When I ran after her earlier, it was quicker to take a cab than my own car. Driving your own vehicle in New York is only done when necessary.
I pull up the place I’m going to take her to on my GPS and get the address, then I give it to the driver. About ten minutes later, we’re getting out in front of Seward Park. Across the street is one of my favorite coffee shops. We enter the shop and Giselle eyes me quizzically.
“Sit down and I’ll get us coffee.” I point toward the tables that are lined up along the big, open window, and Giselle smiles.
The coffee shop is small, but the entire front is made up of one giant window, where you can drink your coffee and, as Giselle said, people watch. I don’t sit in the coffee shop often, as I get recognized when I’m out, but I grab coffee from here a lot. Today, though, Giselle and I will people watch.
After I order two lattes and a couple pastries, I bring everything over to the table Giselle found. She’s staring out the window with her chin in her hand. The happy look on her face has me wanting to purchase this fucking coffee shop so she can stare out the window like this for the rest of her life. But something tells me if I want to stay on her good side, that’s not the way to do it.
I hand her a latte and a pastry, and she thanks me. When she takes a sip, her face lights up. “This is delicious.” We stare out the window for several minutes, drinking our coffees and eating our pastries. When she lets out a cute giggle, I look around to see what has her laughing.
“What are you looking at?” I ask when I don’t see anything out of the norm.
“I’m watching those kids over there.” She points to a bench directly across the street. It’s facing the park. There’s a guy and a girl sitting next to each other. It’s hard to tell how old they are, but from their side-profiles, they’re at least in their teens. The guy’s arm is resting on the back of the bench, but every few seconds he lifts it in an attempt to put his arm around her.
Giselle giggles again. “Guys act so tough, yet you place them in front of a pretty girl and they get scared and turn to mush.” She gives me a playful side-eye, and that’s when I notice that my arm is halfway over her chair. I laugh along with her. Then, gripping her shoulder, I pull her into my side.
