All He Desires: The Invitation (#1) (3 page)

I sat up and put on the best smile I could when he turned the corner. Windswept, his blond hair looked even worse than usual.
No doubt he rode his bike over here.
I rolled my eyes and hoped he hadn't noticed.

“Hello, kitty,” he said, leaning in to kiss me on the lips.

I tried not to groan when I tasted alcohol on his tongue. “Drinking again?”

He shrugged and took off his jacket, letting it fall in the middle of the room. “Just a few drinks with the boys.”

“And what about that job you're supposed to be doing, hmm?” I picked his coat up before transporting it over to the hanger near the door. “I don't need a call telling me you were drunk off your ass and fell off some scaffolding, you know?”

“Aww, I'm touched. And here I thought you didn't care.”

His mocking voice put my teeth on edge. “Oh, I don't. I just don't feel like handling the paperwork. And you know how much I hate talking to your folks over the phone.”

He offered me a partial shrug as he pulled his tattered t-shirt up and off. “Here.” He threw the garment to me, but I didn't catch it. “Fine, be that way.”

I sighed. How I put up with him for close to five years is anyone's guess. Love really must be blind.
Same old Dennis.
It's amazing how he was the one who broke it off. Seeing him now, I had no idea how I managed to deal with his constant mess and blatant disrespect.

It didn't help the fact that he'd found out about my services after he came across my ad on a site I thought for sure he'd never visit.
Nothing on the web is private.
He found out about me and my illegal business before I could find some way to cover myself. And now I was stuck meeting with him just about every day just to keep him quiet.

“Well, aren't you going to get undressed?” he asked, picking the cuffs up off the sofa. “I need to get back soon.”

And I need to get back to my sanity.
“Don't we all.” I closed my eyes. Looked at him again. “Damn, you're still here.”

“I guess I should be happy you don't charge by the minute.”

I glared at him. “Didn't you get my message?”

“No, why?”

“I canceled.”

“Then do you mind explaining these?” He nodded to the cuffs in his hand. “If you canceled, then why are these out? Confused much?”

“It was a last minute thing.”

“What? Canceling, or getting out the cuffs?”

“Canceling.”

“On your period?”

“Jesus, Dennis, no.”

“Then?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I honestly don't see the problem.”

You wouldn't.
I ground my teeth. “Whatever. Just hurry up.”

“Hurry up?” He laughed. “Well, this is new. So anxious to see me leave? Who is he?”

I glanced back at him. “What?”

“You've obviously got plans.”

“So what if I do?”

“I want to know who
he
is.”

“It's none of your concern.”

“Isn't it.” He closed the space between us and pulled back on my hair. “Does he know you like this? How about how much you love being tied to the bed? You haven't told him, have you?” A sly grin spread across his face. “Well then, I guess I should help you get ready for your date.”

I swallowed. I'd heard him use that voice before, and it took every ounce of reserve I had not to break down.
Just let him get it out of his system.
The sooner I did, the sooner he'd leave.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I gestured toward the bed.

Dennis pulled down on my hair. “No. I want you here.” He unbuttoned my jeans and drew them down to my knees along with my underwear. “Get down on the floor like the slut you are.”

He'd had more than a few drinks. I knew that now. Sure, he'd been rough with me in the past, but he knew just how far to go and what lines not to cross. Unfortunately, now wasn't one of those times.

I could've called the cops. I should've, but his threats of outing my business—empty threats or not—kept mine at bay. It was blackmail of the worst degree, and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.
I need this job.
I had nothing else.

“I don't have time to restrain you today,” he said, drawing me back to the present. The bitterness in his voice caught me off guard. “Get down.”

He pushed me down onto my hands and knees. I stared at the ground.
He isn't going to restrain you.
For once I was happy he had a job to get back to.
Probably some extra booze too.
That much I didn't doubt.

The sound of his zipper sent a ripple up my spine, and I clawed at the carpeting. I knew what was coming, and if I knew Dennis as well as I thought I did, his jealousy would have as much a part in this as his drunken haze did.

I tuned him out. All of it. I was vaguely aware of his hands on my hips. Of him thrusting into me. And then...nothing. As I slowly slipped into my subconscious, I pushed him from my mind. I considered thinking about my lover, but linking him to whatever Dennis was doing to me wouldn't help matters.

So there I waited. I could've fought back, but his frame overpowered my own. Years of working in construction had a lot to do with it. And if his strength wasn't enough, his continued threats of reporting me to the authorities for illegal prostitution most certainly were.

“Get up,” he snapped. “Are you even listening to me?”

I bobbed my head and stood up, fixing my clothes as I did. His back was turned to me, and I quickly dried my eyes.

“I need a drink,” he said, making his way toward the kitchen. “Kitty, where do you have it again?”

I grimaced at the nickname. “Crisper drawer. Same as always.”

Exhaling, I gingerly lowered myself onto the couch. My legs were shaking, and my hands weren't any better.
You really fucked me up this time, didn't you, Dennis?
I'd probably feel it come tomorrow morning, which meant canceling on my clients a second day in a row.
Guess it's a good thing you have that well paying job tonight.

Dennis walked back into the living room and leaned against the wall, drinking from a bottle that was already half empty. “Stuff tastes like piss.”

“Well, you can buy your own from now on because you know I don't drink,” I said.

“Such a shame. You'd be a lot more fun if you did. You're too Goddamned tense.”

Gee, I wonder why.
“If that's the case, I can always refer you to another escort. Costs more, but at least then she won't know what a jerk you are. Actually, the more I think about it, it would be a win-win, wouldn't you say?”

His lips thinned into a bleached line. “You're just mad because you want to get ready for that date of yours.”

He drained the rest of his beer, set the empty bottle on the TV stand and made his way for the door. I didn't get up. He was more than capable of walking himself out.

My throat tightened when he stopped. Turned back toward me.
Fuck. Here we go. What's it this time,
I had to wonder. Money. Girlfriends. My job? Or in his eyes, my lack of one?

 He cleared his throat. “How's business?”

“Seriously? You just had me on my knees and that's what you're going with?”

“What? Can't I take an interest?”

“No, you can't. Especially because I know where this is going. I already told you, I'm not interested. Not in hooking up or trying to save what's already lost. You broke up with me, remember?”

“And I was an idiot for it.”

“You said it, not me.”

“Look, I'm more than ready to forget and move on.”

“And if I'm not? Doesn't that count for something?”

“Of course, but...look at you.”

“I seem to be doing pretty well on my own, all things considered. Better than when we were together if I remember correctly.”

“And how are these other clients of yours any different?”

“They aren't you, which means we have no history. It's just business, and for now, that's about all I can handle. In fact, I should probably get ready for my next client.”

“I thought you said you canceled.”

“I tried to cancel on you. I didn't say anything about anyone else.” My cheeks burned. “Please, leave.”

He grabbed his jacket. “We aren't done talking about this.”

“You aren't. I don't honestly care either way, just so long as you leave. Now.”

“Don't want me to meet the trash you fuck?”

I clenched my jaw, steeling myself for whatever he decided to say next. “I'm looking right at him.”

“Tomorrow, Kira. We'll continue this tomorrow.”

I winced when the door slammed behind him. My nameless lover was right. I couldn't keep doing this. Thing is, my clients weren't the ones I was afraid of. It was my ex.

Now, I was relieved I'd canceled my other appointments. I thought for sure nothing could beat my plans for this evening. Turns out, I forgot how easy it was for my ex to go from zero to sixty in one second flat.

Just be glad he doesn't know you canceled your other clients.
He probably had his suspicions, but there's no way he could know for sure.

No, what I was even more thankful for was the fact that he hadn't checked his voicemail and realized I'd canceled—on everyone.

Chapter 4

Wear something comfortable usually translated to nothing at all when it came to Dennis, but seeing as Dennis hadn't been the one to suggest it, I settled for something a little less revealing. I sucked in a breath as I tried to work the threading of my corset.

“Jesus, when's the last time I wore this?” I grumbled, pulling the laces even tighter.

I wasn't even sure if it was my size anymore. Did it always take this long to lace the damned thing ?

“Wear something comfortable,” he'd said.

God, why do men have to be so vague.
Did he want me to dress up? What was this place anyway? The card told me we were meeting at
The Limelight
, but damn if I knew what it was. It could've been anything. A bar. A restaurant. A club. There were no other clues, just a name, an address and phone number.

I'd considered calling the number most of the afternoon, and finally, around seven o' clock, my curiosity got the best of me.

A young woman answered on the other end. “This is
The Limelight
, how may I help you?”

“Hi, yes.” I cleared my throat. “I'm supposed to be meeting someone there tonight, but he never told me what kind of dress code there is.”

“Oh, of course.” The woman laughed. “Nothing too formal. Casual or whatever's comfortable is just fine.”

“Thank you.”

After we'd both hung up, I scrapped the idea of going in a corset and skirt. If I could have it my way, I'd be going in a t-shirt and jeans.
Something in the middle maybe.
A blouse would do just fine. It was still comfortable, and by wearing jeans, no one would turn their nose if I wore sneakers along with them.

I decided to leave my hair down and made my way out to the car. The ride over wasn't as bad as I expected, even for Seattle.

“Turn left after two hundred feet,”
my GPS said, directing me into a very small parking lot that was already full.
“You have reached your destination.”

Great.
I hated parking in cities. Parallel parking wasn't one of my strong suits, and the little parking that was available was almost always taken. But, after driving around the block, I was able to find a spot just around the corner.

I turned off the ignition and put the keys in my pocket along with my cell. Card in hand, I made my way down the street to the building listed on the thick paper. Bright neon green lights hung above the entrance. The few windows I could see were tinted, and could've either belonged to
The Limelight
or one of the surrounding shops.  

Rolling my shoulders back, I mustered the most confident look I could before stepping through the double doors. The air in the lobby was cool compared to the humid September evening that waited for me back outside. It wasn't as bad as it had been back in August, but fall couldn't come soon enough.

A woman stood at a podium not too far in front of me, her eyes scanning over a piece of paper.
It's a restaurant,
I decided. She wasn't dressed like a hostess, not unless the hostess of a restaurant wore a business suit, but the noise just down the hall complete with what seemed to be clattering silverware assured me it was.

“Name?” the woman asked when I closed the distance between us, not looking up from her paper.

Geeze, no eye contact?
I shrugged it off. “Actually, this is going to sound strange, but he never gave it to me.”

Now she did look at me, her eyes softening. “No, sweetie, your name.”

Heat rushed into my cheeks. “Oh, sorry. It's Kira. Kira Thorn.