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“Think about it. Think about how much fucking work dating is.” She set her glass on the coffee table, raising her hands, palmsup. “I mean, look at us, this is fucking work—wouldn’t you just rather pay for it, have me on your arm, hanging on your every word, agreeing with you…” She laughed. “…Definitely would have to pay me a lot for that.”
A snort escaped his mouth. She was such a sassy girl, and he loved that. “Really, really? It’d cost me a lot for you to just hang on my arm… to be amicable for an evening and act like I’m pretty great, interesting, smart? Huh?” He leaned forward in his chair, balancing his elbows on his knees, challenging her.
“A hell of a lot.” She threw her head back, laughing, and all he wanted to do was jump out of his chair, pin her to the couch, and rip her clothes off with his teeth, nibbling and kissing every inch of her before he buried his cock inside her.
“Seriously, these men don’t have time, or let me say…don’t want to take the time to…”
“Okay, but what about the sex part? If a lot of escorts are just, as you call it, arm accessories, how does the rest work?” He was thinking about all the times he put up with a date’s bad attitude just to get laid.
He saw her stiffen again. “Well, a lot of them have someone for that, too. I have left many events with clients where they put me in a limo home while they jumped into another limo with a sex escort or two.”
“Jesus, so pay one to look pretty and the other to fuck. God, that must get expensive,” he said flatly.
“It does, but if you are taking the pretty one to high society or diplomatic events, they need to be smart, too. They have to come across as cultured. I’ve actually taken classes on how to conduct myself with royalty.”
“I can see that.” He smiled. “Those classes are really paying off here in Texas, huh?”
“Absolutely,” she laughed. “Actually, it’s good training in business.”
He got up, grabbed the bottle from the refrigerator, and poured more wine into their glasses.
Sitting, he said, “So the jump for you, I mean, when did you…?”
Sucking in the air around her, lowering her eyes to her glass, willing herself to calm, she slowly began, “Several months into it, shortly before I turned nineteen, I was made an offer…well, it was something I couldn’t turn down…financially. I, well I…they wanted a virgin.” She stopped herself, wishing she could erase the last part of that sentence. She fixed her gaze on the liquid in her glass.
His eyes popped open widely, noticing the way her body was retreating into itself.For God’s sake, she sold her virginity? Is that what she just said?Jesus, his head was spinning. His thoughts splintered into incongruent pieces, protecting her, disgusted, confused.
A weighted silence settled around them.
“Maybe we should be done with this,” she muttered into her glass.
“No, please, I was just processing what you said.” He siphoned all the judgment out of his tone before the words left his mouth. “I’m sure that was tough,” he offered as a substitute for the actual thoughts banging in his brain,You sold your virginity? How much does a dude pay for virginity?He kept those thoughts in his ‘think bubble.’
“I mean, Jesus, look at you; it’s a good thing I didn’t meet you back then.” He smiled, waiting for her to look up.
Meeting his eyes, her mouth twisted. “Oh, so you would have paid half a million for it?”
“Seriously? Really?” His eyebrows shot up theatrically.
“Uh-huh. Like I said, I couldn’t pass it up.” She stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking. She’d only told Matt this. “Then even more on top of that to be his girlfriend for ayear,” she added, not knowing why she was telling him this.We only had sex one time, and that was riddled with humiliation, owned more by him than her.
“Seriously, okay, these guys are way out of my pay grade and…I’m obviously in the wrong business,” he stated, shaking his head and taking another sip of wine, vacillating between wanting to ask more questions and ending it so he didn’t have to hear any more. She had definitely been part of a realm he couldn’t even imagine.
“It’s a different world, Jake, just like being an NFL player is. I mean, the fact that you can just go to a bar and introduce yourself to some girl as ‘Jake Skyler, NFL quarterback’ and she willingly takes her clothes off for you—that’s worlds beyond most people’s comprehension. The majority of men do not have that kind of experience−ever.” She heard the strain in her voice.
He grimaced. “It doesn’t quite work like that. I still have to do the dating thing. Unlike those guys, I still have to put up with a pain in the ass girl who doesn’t listen to me.” His chin nodded her way.
“Oh really?” She met his steady gaze.
“Really.” He smiled.
“Jake, most of the time, I really was just a date. Some of the guys that hire escorts are gay or, honestly, just too busy to have a girlfriend. The sex part isn’t as prevalent as you may be thinking,” she explained, desperately struggling to assuage him.
“So can I ask about something, something that I can’t get out of my head?” His smile flattened.
“Yes.” She shrank into herself, well aware of his pictures from Miami.
“So Miami?” he started.
