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He guides me to where he was sitting and takes a seat. We're side by side, our knees almost touching. My dress rises up a little. It's just enough to entice, which he seems to like. Outside if this escort life, I do love the attention of men, and I do like seeing desire in a man's eyes, so seeing his lust helps a little. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
His heated gaze travels the length of my legs, and then lingers. I may have only just started doing Pilates, but I’ve always thought I have nice legs, and the four-inch heels just add to the appeal.
"Would you like a drink?" he asks.
"Sprite and tequila, please."
He places our order, getting a scotch for himself.
"Have you ever been here before?" he asks.
I glance around the swanky outdoor lounge. "Can't say I have. I didn't expect it to be so relaxed or inviting. Do you come here often?" I realize my question makes it sound like I asked if he brings escorts here often. I quickly rephrase my words. "It's a perfect place to unwind after work."
Jesus Christ! I'm dying inside with nerves. Where's my fucking drink?
He tilts his head to the side. "It's actually the only place I enjoy coming to after work. Tell me, what do you do?"
A test question. I eye him and go with the first thing that pops into my head.
"I'm a preschool teacher."
His eyes lower and I swear I hear him growl. I decide from here on out that's my job…well, my job within a job. The last thing I ever want to be is a teacher, so it works perfectly.
His weathered eyes flicker again, this time with hunger, and I have him pegged. He likes his girls looking innocent and young. Perfect.
Our drinks are finally brought over and I just want to suck mine down, but I wait for him to take the first sip before even touching my glass. I have to take it slow anyway since I already had two shots.
"You love children?"
I shake my head. "Not really," I joke, and he laughs.
That makes me feel good. I shift to look around, wondering if anyone knows what I’m doing here, but he stops me.
"No."
My eyes snap to his.
"Your eyes stay on me," he says in a harsh, low voice, and for a second everything inside of me freezes. "Do not look at anyone else. You're here with me."
I lick my red lips, and his gaze falls, following the motion. "You're all I see," I say. It's not my best line, but short and simple seems to work.
We make useless conversation until we finish our drinks, and the next thing I know, he takes my hand in his as we walk to retrieve our coats from the doorman and head straight to the elevator.
He's on me before the elevator doors even close and it freaks me the fuck out. We fall into the corner and I hit my head against the wall. He doesn't seem to notice as he grabs my breasts and gives them a painful pinch. I whimper, taking it. My breathing labors and my clenched hands find his shoulders. I'm stiff but trying to go with it like a virgin on prom night. He sinks his teeth into the curve of my neck and I tense up again, while his other hand brazenly reaches under my dress and cups my pussy to the point of pain. I almost grunt. Instead, I grit my teeth and wonder how we're going to have sex when I'm as dry as sandpaper and quivering inside.
"Fucking wet, just like a real whore should be." His tone is filled with malevolence and he’s not at all the pleasant guy I was having a drink with outside seconds ago.
I frown at his statement, then remember Natalie had me use coconut oil as a lubricant before I left, and some of my anxiety eases.
Treat him as a one-night stand.
He's all over me, putting his full, suffocating weight on me. The elevator doors open and then we're power walking to his hotel room. Thank God I know how to walk in heels and I'm not tripping over my feet. The closer we get to the door, the more anxiety grows in my stomach. I push it down and tell myself this will all be over soon. This has to be a part of the process. Right? I can’t imagine anyone selling their body for money is comfortable with it the first time…or first few times.
Eight thousand dollars. You’re going to make eight thousand dollars.
We're in his room faster than I can blink, and before the door can even shut, he shoves me against the wall. My head smacks it and I reach up to grab it. I'm going to end up with a fucking concussion before the night’s over. His mouth is on mine and all I taste is menthol cigarettes, which is funny because outside I could only smell the kerosene from the lanterns.
He's mauling me, and I can't seem to get a good handle on things as he takes control in a sloppy manner. He yanks the top of my dress down and my breasts spill out. Cool air breezes over them and something inside me wakes up when he roughly grabs my bare flesh. My stomach hardens. He twists my nipples past the point of pleasure and I smack his hands away. Taking a deep breath, I use force and push him off me, but I don't do it like I'm disgusted, even though I am. I do it as if I'm so sexually frustrated that I can't even bear foreplay. I act as if I need his cock inside of me right now, this second…
