by L. L. Ash
I’d need to warn Serge about Ryan.
Trying to push all those things out of my mind, I turned to Serge, who was killing it on national TV. His greyish-periwinkle blue blazer with sleeves pushed up and matching trousers showed well on the camera, and the white t-shirt he wore underneath that blazer popped against his skin. Of course, he looked like some sexy, businessman god. He usually did.
Where did the guy learn to dress?
For more than half an hour he played host on the stage, smiling. Complimenting the guest host and all the models while at the same time he urged our audiences at home that the clothes we were selling at the moment would make them look like sexy goddesses.
Paraphrasing, of course.
“Our sales are off the charts,” Hailey whispered into my ear after sidling up to me. “Who is he? We need to keep him.”
“He’s...my boyfriend,” I choked. “We can’t keep him. He has another job.”
Oh God… I was making this so much worse.
“Boyfriend?” she looked at me wide-eyed, then looked at Serge who was very obviously younger than me. “You little cougar! That boy is sexy!”
Boy. That’s right. He was just a boy.
“Shut up!” I whispered harshly back as Ryan came back to the set with Linda.
“Aw!” I heard Serge say to the other host. “Looks like my time is up, but I’ve had so much fun with you, Karen! And all these beautiful models!”
There was a unanimous chuckle around the stage as our guest host laughed and the models blushed behind them.
“Tell you what. If you ever make a mens line, I’ll be back on this stage and I’ll present it with you. We got a deal?”
Of course she nodded just as Ryan held up his hand to count them down again from the main station.
“We have to take a short break, but thank you for joining me, and I’ll leave you and our viewers in Linda’s capable hands.”
Just like that the red light above the camera flicked off as the tech people bounced from live TV to a pre-recorded commercial.
Serge hopped off the stage and accepted congratulations from all the ladies in the room, which earned him a scowl from Ryan.
“I want this fucking makeup off my face,” Serge said when he approached me, wiping at the little droplets of sweat that had gathered at his hairline under the hot lights of the stage.
“I’ll give you a wipe in my office,” I told him. “But I suppose our lunch died in the corner where you left it when you arrived.”
“Shit...” he mumbled, pulling off his jacket so he was standing there in just his sexy, clinging trousers and a white t-shirt that was maybe half a size too small because it molded to every muscle in his chest.
Little transparent spots on the chest of his shirt gave away that he’d been sweating under that coat, and it made the sex-factor increase tenfold.
“I already had one of the assistants go get something else,” I told him, motioning him toward the small office I kept at the studio.
“Remind me to never do this again,” he laughed humorlessly as he followed me down a hallway.
“Why’s that?”
“My cheeks hurt from smiling,” he rubbed at his face. “Russians don’t smile, didn't you say that before? It’s not natural, you know.”
“Oh, stop being a baby,” I rolled my eyes at him, finding his complaints adorable.
“Sure. But if the smiling wasn’t bad enough, the heat. The fucking heat was ridiculous.”
“Welcome to show biz,” I winked at him just like he tended to do to me.
He smirked at that.
“Now, why exactly did you want to come here, anyway?” I asked him when I closed us into my office. “I could have met you tonight.”
“Because if you want to get to know me. I figured it’d be easier on my dick to meet you in the daytime. Night suits you and that doesn’t help my little problem.”
My cheeks flushed as I busied myself with getting him a makeup removing wipe.
“What little problem is that?” I asked, handing it to him.
He took it and began scrubbing at his face for a moment before answering.
“The problem where I go home hard every night and have to take care of things myself. It’s not a thing I enjoy, you know?”
“Are you telling me you only want me for the sex, Serge?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow.
He stared, then burst into a loud, boisterous laugh that I’d never heard from him before.
It sent tingles up my back at the sound.
I loved it immediately.
“That’s right,” he said once he settled down a little. “The prostitute only wants you for the sex, babe.”
It hit me right in the gut to hear him refer to himself as a prostitute.
“Don’t. You’re an escort. It’s different.”
“No, it’s not, malishka,” he shook his head. “But I don’t mind. It’s what I am. I’m not ashamed of it.”
I sighed and fell back in my chair.
“I don’t like that word.”
“Then use one of the other half dozen names there are for people in my business, Adele.”
“You can say what you want, but to me, you’re just a guy I’m dating.”
He shrugged and sat back in his own chair, tossing the used makeup wipe in the trash.
A sharp knock sounded on the door before Rachel walked in, a grin on her face and a white paper bag in her hand that smelled amazing.
“I heard that Adele’s boyfriend was here, so I had to check the guy out!”
Serge grinned, slipping into some new version of himself that I'd never seen before.
“Rachel, darling, how long has it been?”
“Too long,” she told him and kissed him right on the lips.
In front of me.
“And why haven’t I seen you?” he almost chastised her in this strange, smooth voice.
“Because I don’t make the big bucks. I can’t afford you very often. Not like Adele, here.”
“Hmm, for shame,” he sighed and withdrew from her, turning his eyes back to me.
Oh my God… Was he working for business right in front of me? While we were on a date?
“Thanks for bringing in lunch,” I said harshly at Rachel, shooing her out.
She blew a kiss at Serge as I pushed her out the door, then turned my fury to him.
“Are you fucking vying for business while you’re here with me?” I grated out, leaning against the door so he couldn’t run away from me in fear of my scorn.
“I’m always vying for business, malishka. It’s literally my job.”
“While you’re with me? Seriously? You don’t even respect me enough to just be here with me?”
He tilted his head in this ‘come on, give me a break’ sort of expression.
“When I’m with you, Adele, you get a lot more than Rachel ever did. Besides, I thought you weren’t technically my client yet? I thought we were just dating?”
I growled and slammed the bag down on my desk, grinding my teeth.
Digging out the sandwiches one of our interns brought from the great deli next door, I started arranging them on the desk as Serge got up and came slowly around until he was standing behind me.
His hands wrapped around mine, pulling them to my chest instead of squishing the hell out of the bread between them.
“I like it when you’re jealous,” he whispered in my ear, slowly turning me until I was facing him. “Maybe I should call you koshka instead. My fierce little kitty. Jealous, burning, wanting so fucking much but never taking.”
His lips touched mine gently at first, then demanding as he pressed me back against the desk.
There was something different about this kiss. He wasn’t trying to claim me like the first kiss, or show off like the other kisses in the studio… In this kiss, he already knew he owned me and he was using me to make us both feel good.
“Sit down, koshka,” he breathed against my lips, grabbing han
dfuls of my skirt at the hip and pulling it up until it bunched just at my hips.
“I-I” I began to stammer, but he bit my lip to stop me.
“I won’t give you your first real fuck on a desk. Promise. Now do as I say.”
Shaking, I sat on the chair with a plop.
His hands had managed to grab my panties in the process and they slid down to my knees, hooked into his fingers.
A small, devilish smile appeared on his lips as he looked down at the plain, cotton things.
“I’m keeping these,” he growled, bringing them down to my ankles before releasing them from my high heeled feet.
He slipped them into his trouser pocket before dropping down to his knees.
Oh...Oh… Finally I understood what he was doing.
“Scoot forward my malishka. I can see it in your eyes. You know what I want.”
My fingers started to shake as I scooted my butt to the edge of the chair, eyes being held by his ethereal ones.
“I told you I want to know what you taste like, Adele. You’re not going to stop me now, are you?”
His fingers pressed into my knees, widening them until I was half hanging off the seat, legs completely open and flashing my typical bikini wax at him.
Holding my eyes for only a moment longer, his dropped down and I gasped in a breath.
A moan rolled out of his chest as he bent forward to kiss the inside of my thigh.
“I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me for so long, malishka. That’s not very nice, you know. A man could starve that way.”
His kisses got sloppier and wetter the closer he got to my core, but I was already on fire and I didn’t care one bit about messy kisses while I burned for him and his touch. I wanted his mouth on me more than anything else in the world at that moment.
“I need you to tell me you want this, malishka,” he mumbled against my thigh. “I’m not going to be able to stop once I taste you, so tell me now if you don’t want this.”
His voice was a low growl, primal and needy as his tongue lashed out against my skin.
“Ok,” I gasped at him, my hands finding residence in his hair.
So soft and-OH MY GOD!
Immediately his mouth was on me and I was holding back a scream. Fingers biting into my thighs as he pried them apart as far as they'd go, mouth not stopping or stilling from its exploration of every fold, fluttering only for moments around my clit as he went.
“Oh, malishka, this isn’t fair,” he panted against me. “I’ll never be able to stop now… Why do you taste so good?”
Flutters flew through every muscle as he sucked and licked, mouth demanding everything and absolutely nothing from me as I pull his hair, unable to do anything else while he was savoring my skin.
“Not fair,” he murmured again just as fingers joined his lips, pressing just the tips of them into my slit, stretching and working me until I began to shiver under his ministrations.
Finally those fingers entered. Slowly slipping in and out as he massaged me, his tongue and lips dancing to a different tempo than his hands.
Just drawing each breath was a labor as my chest heaved, begging for more.
Desperate.
He must have known because his fingers flipped and stopped playing around. He curled them inside me, brushing against that all-elusive g-spot as his mouth finally started focusing on the only thing in the world I wanted more than his fingers inside me.
Flicking and sucking, his tongue worked me until I started jerking off my chair, crying out as the come-hither movements of his hand combined with the brutal attack on my clit had me hurling off the edge of sanity and into satiety.
Gasping and groaning, I rode out the prolonged orgasm as he gently licked me through it.
“Oh God…” I groan eventually as the most intense seconds passed and I sank into warm waves.
My butt finally collapsed out of the chair, causing it to roll away as I fell into his lap.
He didn’t say anything, just watched me with those eyes before leaning over me and dropping his head to kiss my lips again.
I could taste myself on him, his cheeks with a hint of a scratch that I felt between my thighs, smelling like me and tasting like me. It was incredible.
“This satisfaction is temporary and short lived, malishka. This is just a taste.”
A taste of his skills, he meant.
The thought was like a wet blanket being tossed over my fog-laden mind.
Because this was what he did for a living. He was good at it because he did it…a lot.
“Thanks,” I told him quietly as I tried to scramble out of his lap.
“Where are you going, Adele? You shut off just now. What happened?”
“Nothing. I just...this shouldn't happen in my office. People will find out.”
“So what? You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”
“I guess that’s what we told them,” I agreed.
“You didn’t enjoy it?” he asked, confused.
“No. It was good. Really good. You’re very good at what you do, Serge.”
He huffed out a breath and let go of me, letting me finally stand so I could pull my skirt down again.
“I need my underwear back.”
“No,” he clipped, getting back to his feet too before going around the desk and plopping back into his seat.
He knew something was up, and he didn’t like it.
“You won’t give it back to me?”
I'd thought the whole taking it thing was part of his show.
“No. It’s mine now.”
Just like that, he denied me and moved to grab a sandwich.
Not wanting to argue with him after he just gave me...that...I let it go.
His sandwich sat untouched in front of him as I picked at the bread in mine, his lip being chewed to death between his beautiful teeth.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” I asked him finally.
His striking eyes flicked up to me as he said shortly, “I don’t want to lose the flavor in my mouth.”
Those eyes flicking away again, he just continued to stare at the sandwich.
“Serge, that’s ridiculous,” I laugh a little, but his face looked stern.
Humorless.
“I don’t know when I’ll get it back. I’m not eating yet.”
So strange…
“Ryan knows who you are,” I finally blurted, not sure what else to say.
His eyes move back to mine.
“He said you went to school together.”
Considering my words, he raised an eyebrow.
“Last name?”
“Momova,” I told him and he slowly nodded.
Chapter Nine
Serge
“I fucked his mom,” I told her after a few moments of silence.
She choked on the one, tiny bite of bread she’d managed to eat.
I wasn’t joking. She tasted like fucking honey and the sea, and I didn’t want to lose that flavor for a deli sandwich.
“What do you mean you…?”
She couldn’t even say it.
“I fucked a lot of people in high school. For free, and for money. I was a favorite of his moms. He hated me back then, I think.”
Her eyes looked haunted and shocked.
“You did this in high school?” she practically gasped.
Poor innocent mind.
“It was that or drugs. This was safer. And easier.”
She started shaking her head in disbelief.
“Can he hurt you?” She barely whispered the words.
“He can do whatever he wants to do.” I shrugged. “He can’t prove I did anything then or that I do anything now. He’s just jealous.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the guy has the hots for you. It’s fucking obvious.”
Now her shock was all over her body instead of just in her eyes.
“No! We’re just co-workers. He’s actually my employee...”
&nb
sp; “Doesn’t matter. He wants to do you and you should let him.”
She jerked back at that.
“It’s obvious that this disturbs you, Adele. You can’t see past what I am to what I can do for you, and that’s ok.”
No. It was not.
“What are you saying?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, her defensive gesture.
“There’s a dude out there that wants you. And if he’s still like he was in high school, the dude is a dick to people he doesn’t like, but he’ll treat you good. If anything, he’ll get you fucked and you won’t have to pay for it.”
“Serge I-”
“The moment we were done, you withdrew, Adele. You may not know what that means, but I do. Don’t torture yourself over not wanting a prostitute. I’m not everyone’s taste.”
Just like that I stood.
“But I want you to know I’ve really enjoyed our dates together. It’s been fun to get to know you.”
She was still stuttering when I went to the door and let myself out, grabbing my jacket at the last second before letting the door close behind me.
“Going so soon?” Rachel asked as I started heading down the hall again.
Was she just standing there listening?
Creepy.
“Gotta go, actually. I stayed longer than I meant.”
“Hmm, another client?”
“Yep,” I lied. “So if you’ll excuse me...”
“Sure,” she waved with one hand and stopped walking with me.
In the studio, lots of people said goodbye as I headed out the door, meeting Ryan’s eyes with a death glare before stopping to bask in the cold air of an early New York winter.
Thanksgiving was soon, which meant Christmas was just over a month away.
I should probably go shopping for my clients, and find something perfect for my grandma. She loved nice things.
With a distraction in mind, I hailed a cab and had them take me to my favorite jeweler.
When I walked in, the owner just smiled at me.
I was probably one of his best customers, getting a lot of the same things for my long term and frequent customers.
“Ready to design your Christmas presents?” he asked me with a raised eyebrow.
I wasn’t sure what the guy thought of me, but he knew I had bank. Probably just thought I had a shitton of girlfriends. Which was more or less true.
