Escorting The Billionaire #2 (The Escort Collection) (2 page)

J
ames 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.

J
ames 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.

T
he 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.

T
he 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.

I wasn’t good at apologies—I had no experience making them. But I did want to make this morning up to her, so I was doing it the only way I knew how. I was going to give her what she liked: baseball and food.

“You want something to eat?” I asked.

She looked at me suspiciously. She probably thought I meant my cock. “What’s on the menu?”

I grabbed my tablet and pulled up the menu from the Stratum’s restaurant. “Burgers, Caesar salads, steak tips…”

“I’ll have a burger,” she said and shrugged, trying to sound casual. “And a Caesar salad. And a beer.” She looked at me quickly. “If you’re having one.”

I picked up my cell phone and ordered two burgers, two Caesar salads, and extra onion rings. “They’re good,” I mouthed to Audrey while I was on the phone.

“What about the beer?”

“I have some.”

She got up in that outfit and went out the kitchen. I got to see her glorious ass, round and muscular, in a thong. She made her way out the door slowly, making sure I got a good, long look.
Holy shit.
My dick got instantly hard. One minute later, she clicked back in, carrying two IPAs. She placed one gently on my nightstand, leaning down so her tits were practically in my face. She looked over and saw the obvious bulge in my pants. Then she stood up and smiled, as if she’d won something. She strutted back to her side of the bed and showed me that ass one more time. Then she sat down, drinking her beer and ignoring me until my erection gave up and finally withered, dejected and alone.

The door buzzed, and Audrey looked down at herself. “I think you better get it,” she said. She eyed my pants. “You okay to do that?”

“I’m fine,” I said, grinning. “I’ve just seen your ass in a thong. I’m gonna die a happy man.”

W
e started
to eat on my bed. I got up and threw Audrey one of my old Wharton T-shirts.

“What’s that for?” she asked.

“You need to be comfortable while you eat. I hate to ruin the view, though.” She went into the bathroom for a second and came back out wearing the T-shirt and only the T-shirt, which made my cock stir again.

I knew what was under that shirt and I wanted it, bad.

She padded out barefoot to the kitchen and came back with two more beers. It was almost as if this morning had never happened, that I’d never fired her and she’d never left. We ate in silence, watching the game, sharing the onion rings.

I picked up the dishes when we’d finished. Audrey looked up at me, the bravado gone from her face just like the lingerie was gone from her body. “Thank you,” she said, and it was a loaded thanks, not just for clearing the dishes.

“I should be saying that to you. You were brave to come back here.”

I went out to the kitchen and threw everything in the sink. She was brave, and I was a coward. When she’d put her hand on me last night at the restaurant, I’d lost my mind. I’d lost all control. Her touch had scorched me, and without thinking, I’d let my instincts take over. My instincts wanted to fuck her, hard.

But that’s not all they wanted, and that was the larger part of the problem.

I went back to my room and sat down next to her, closer this time. I stroked her arm lightly and I felt her stiffen, as if she was bracing for the worst. I couldn’t blame her, not after the way I’d betrayed her this morning.

“Do you remember everything that we did last night?” I asked her, my fingers trailing up her arm.

She bit her lip and looked at me. I could see the traces of puffiness around her eyes still, the vulnerability in her face. “I wish I could forget it,” she said.

I continued to stroke her arm. “I have…issues, Audrey. I sort of told you about them. I have a hard time getting close to people.”

She was watching my face.

“Last night was pretty intense,” I said. “I didn’t know how to handle it in the morning. I was confused and feeling…” My voice trailed off as I struggled to articulate my thoughts.

“Feeling what?”

“Just
feeling
.” I watched my finger move up and down her arm. I didn’t look her in the face. “It made me uncomfortable. That’s why I fired you.”

“So why’d you hire me back? And also say you wanted sex, if it was the sex that caused the problem?”

One of the things I liked about her was that she was direct. But that could also be a challenge—especially when you were trying to obfuscate the truth from yourself. I sighed and rolled onto my back. “We don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to, Audrey.”

“I didn’t say that.” Her voice was defensive, but it also sounded hurt.

“I hired you back because you’re a nice girl, and we had a deal. I told Elena that I wanted sex to be included in our arrangement now because I enjoyed last night. If you came back, I wanted that to be out in the open. Part of our agreement.” I paused for a second. “Services requested and services rendered.”

It didn’t feel good coming out of my mouth, but I made myself say it anyway. Going forward, sex was going to be part of our contract. Last night had just been us, and it had been dangerous. I’d come so many times I’d barely been able to see straight, and the depth of my orgasms had shocked me. I knew Audrey had orgasmed, again and again, because I’d felt her body clench around mine.

I’d also heard her screaming my name.

“I’m fine with sex being part of the arrangement. I like things to be straightforward. It makes them easier to deal with,” she said.

“That’s exactly what I mean,” I said, relieved that we seemed to be on the same page. “So… will that be okay? You’re back, and we have the same arrangement as before. Except now sex is part of the deal.”

“Works for me,” Audrey said, business-like.

I smiled at her. “Let’s just enjoy each other. We have a whole week left.”

“Deal,” Audrey said. She sounded relieved, too.

She leaned back on the pillow and went back to watching the game. I lay beside her, stroking her arm again. She was so beautiful, even with no makeup and my old shirt on.
Especially
with no makeup and my old shirt on. After a while she turned to me, running her fingers along my face. I leaned over and kissed her then, tasting her sweet mouth, crushing my lips against hers.

I was going to have to fuck her. The need rose up in me, large and insatiable. There was no going back after last night. But I could relax this time. It was safer—she was mine for now. We had an agreement with parameters, a mutually beneficial one.

I eased my hand under her T-shirt and stroked her flat belly, my hand rising up to her luscious breasts. She sat up and took the shirt off, and I laid against her hot skin, playing with her nipples, alternately sucking and blowing on them. She arched her back, her nipples hardening and elongating beneath my touch. Then I slid my hand down and swirled my fingers against her clitoris, pinching and rolling it between my fingers until she was moaning and slick with wetness.

By that time, my cock was enormous and heavy against her. I was about to burst.

She turned to look at me, and for a moment, her eyes looked sad. I was going to fuck that sadness out of her, make her forget it—especially if I was the one who’d caused it. She pulled down my pants, and I eased out of my shirt. Then I swung my knee over her and put my cock against her slit. I rubbed myself against her slowly, lazily getting myself lubricated. She grabbed me and rubbed me against her, getting my hard length slick.

“Tell me you want me,” I said, my voice thick.

“I want you. I fucking want you, James,” she said.

I couldn’t wait any more. I entered her swiftly and without preamble. She was more than ready for me, slick with wetness. I slid all the way in, to the base of my shaft, and we both moaned as her body opened up to accommodate me. I fit tightly within her. “Fuck, oh fuck Audrey—that’s good.”

I drove long, hard thrusts into her. It felt so good. She dug her nails into my ass, driving me in even further. I could feel her clench, trying to squeeze everything out of me. Being inside her again was making me crazy. It was as if her sweet, tight body was made for mine.

I wrapped my arms around her and covered her body with mine, claiming her with each thrust. I wanted to own her and possess her.

“Tell me you want me. And only me,” I said, out of my mind.

I could tell she was close. Her body clenched around me, shaking. “I only want you. I only ever want you.” The way she said it, I believed her. That made me feverish, and I continued to drive into her ruthlessly, taking us both right to the edge. “James,” she cried. “James—”

My name on her lips was all I needed to hear. I felt so out of control. I came in her, hard, my hips still thrusting as she cried out and shook beneath me. I pumped into her over and over, until my orgasm had subsided and I was spent.

She’d come back.

She’d come back because I was paying her.

But still, she’d come back.

I crushed her to me, willing myself to stop thinking, not ever wanting to let her go.