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It’s five fifty now, so I ask Cara, “When does he want me to be there?”
“Eight. When you get there, you can discuss what you want to do and how long he wants you. He’s already paid the flat rate for the night. And for you, I’ll only take five percent.”
“Nope. You’ll take the fifteen and you’ll fuck off with your charity. I’m working for it. Don’t give me special treatment because I got fired, Cara.”
She groans. “You’re a pain in my ass. Fine, fifteen percent. And as usual, any tip he leaves is yours.”
“Yes, ma’am. Any special requests from this handsome Daddy?”
“Not that he added yet. If there are, I’ll contact you before you head out. Have fun and be safe, babe. If you feel weird about anything going on—”
“I know, call Brad. Got it.” Brad is one of the bodyguards Cara has on staff for her models. He, along with two other guys—Keith and Jax—usually go with the newbies for their first few jobs to make sure they’re comfortable. There is also at least one of them on call, so to speak, in case they’re needed. They’re good guys that take their jobs seriously. I like them. They’re also Cara’s lovers, so they’re extra invested in making sure her business runs smoothly.
We bid each other goodbye, and I hurry to my room to get ready for my date.
When I’m washed, shaved and fed, I pack my bag. My phone pings just as I tuck my last item inside. I see it’s an incoming text from Cara.
Cara: Wear pretty panties. :)
I laugh, thankful that I have what I need in my bag. When I take a job, I always go in street clothes and dress for the client in their room. It builds suspense and excitement. Also, so I won’t get shitty looks from hotel guests and give away I’m a hired companion.
I text her back a thumbs up and she sends me the address to the hotel. Well fuck, it’s one of the most expensive hotels in the city. I’ve only been once, and that was to take my grandfather to brunch for his birthday when I saved a few paychecks to splurge on us. So this guy has money. Hopefully, he leaves me with a generous tip.
At eight on the dot, I’m knocking on the hotel room door, the jitters almost getting the best of me. I stopped smoking and drinking when my hours got cut and I couldn’t afford it anymore, so I have nothing to take the edge off. This will be my first job where I’m one hundred percent sober and I’m nervous as fuck.
The door opens and I forget how to breathe when I see the fine ass man standing across from me. His photo did not do him justice. Along with his kind eyes, he has a lovely smile that’s aimed at me. His locs are pulled back from his face, giving me a clear shot of his chiseled jaw and slightly crooked nose that looks like it may have been broken a time or two. I’m a sucker for a man with a nice nose. He has on a pair of dress pants that hug his thighs and his dress shirt is unbuttoned to show the top of his pecs and ribbed undershirt. I have to wipe my mouth to make sure I’m not drooling.
He steps back and I walk in, turning to him when he shuts us in. “Hey. I’m Malcom. If you want to get changed, the bathroom is through there.” He points to a room and I nod my thanks and hustle inside, shutting myself in. My back against the door, I take a few steadying breaths before I reach into my bag.
Chapter Two
Quin
LooksliketheserviceI hired knows what they’re doing. The man they sent over is fucking stunning. Not small like the men I usually go for or as thin, but I feel the immediate attraction. He’s probably five ten—tall, but still short compared to my six three. Taller than what I’m used to. My date’s slender, but muscular frame is also a revelation. His shoulders are wide and what little of his arms shows veins snaking through his toned arms. His big, green eyes are enchanting, so innocent but sultry at the same time. The blond waves of his hair are pushed back from his face, but not with gel or product—like he ran his hand through it over and over. His pouty pink lips are quirked up into an open but flirty grin, drawing my eyes to them immediately.
After noticing he had on street clothes and a bag slung over his shoulder, I figured he’d want to get changed into … whatever it is he wears to these kind of dates. Chuckling to myself, I walk over to the bar and fix us a drink.Date.That’s a pleasant way to put it, even though we both know what it is. I wouldn’t mind taking him on anactualdate, getting to know him before we come back here and I spank his ass red. It’s been years since I’ve been on one.
When I booked with this escort service, I asked for a boy, letting the madam know I would be aware if he wasn’t, but I wouldn’t have faulted her if she couldn’t find anyone. It’s not like boys line up to work for an escort service, hoping to run into a Daddy. We’ll see how this man works out.
Taking my drink to the couch, I have a seat and wait for my boy for the evening to come out and join me before we get started. I dim the lights with the remote from the table, sit back and sip my drink, eager to see what he changed into.
Shortly after I put my drink back on the table, the door opens and I see him framing the door, wearing a sexy corset and pretty ruffle panties. My mouth goes dry and I sit up a bit straighter. He looks fucking amazing. The tone and definition of his strong arms and legs that are dusted with dark blond hair isn’t something I’m used to—I tend to go for boys that are dainty and groom themselves within an inch of their lives—but I can’t look away from him.
Head down in a demure way, he makes his way over to me, a faint blush on his cheeks. He licks his plump lips nervously, then meets my eyes when he sits on the table in front of me, sliding my drink out of the way. “Long day, Daddy?”
Just those few words has my dick growing in my pants. Yes, this boy definitely has experience. The worried expression, the soft question, the wide eyes that say he really wants to know the answer so he can help me is enough to make me want to rip those pretty panties off and bury my face between his cheeks.
Smirking, I undo the buttons on my cuffs and roll my sleeves up to my elbows. “No, not really. Thanks for asking, boy. What’s your name?” I ask, loving how he meets my eyes with shy vulnerability.
He stands and I watch him make his way over to the bar, grabbing his drink. The way his ass hangs from the bottom of those panties has me groaning to myself, wanting to see those cheeks red and his ass bouncing on my dick. “Red,” he answers, then takes a sip of his drink without facing me.
“That your real name?” I walk over to him, standing just behind him but not touching him just yet.
“No, Daddy. But I’d rather keep that to myself.” That makes two of us. I would love to tell him my real name is Quin, but that wouldn’t do either of us any good. Besides, I won’t see him again after tonight.
Chuckling, I press against him, feeling his warmth through my clothes. “I don’t like secrets. Boys that keep secrets gets spankings.”
Red lets out a breathy laugh, downs his drink, then turns around to face me. Pressing his body to mine, he kicks up his chin and says, “My last Daddy called me Red because of how fast my ass would turn red when he spanked me.” He places one hand on my chest and the other travels down to my hard dick. In a low voice, he adds, “And my last Daddy always had to spank me.”
