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Authors: Claire Kent

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

Escorted (2 page)

BOOK: Escorted
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His mouth
twitched, so slightly she almost didn’t catch it. “Good. I just wanted to make
it clear that you pay for the entire evening, whether or not you use it. I
don’t hire myself out by the hour.”

So some reason,
his dry tone made her want to snicker again. She stifled it, in case he’d
mistake it for mockery. “Understood.”

“We can do
whatever you like for the evening. I can act as escort, play a part if you
want, provide general companionship. If you’re interested in anything sexual,
that will cost extra.”

Lori couldn’t
believe she was sitting here, in the middle of a park in downtown Seattle,
having this conversation. Her cheeks burned involuntarily, but she wasn’t as
mortified as she’d expected. Ander was so business-like and matter-of-fact
about the situation that it helped Lori feel that way too.

“I thought I
made my interests clear when we talked on the phone,” she said.

Ander nodded.
“Of course. The prices differ for oral on you, oral on me, and full
intercourse.”

A nagging
question that had been bugging her for a few days prompted her to ask, “Who
would pay you that much money for
you
to get the blow job?”

Again, that
slight twitch of his mouth. She wasn’t even sure it meant anything—his
expression was generally so calm as to be stoic. But she found that occasional little
quiver of his mouth the most appealing thing about him. “Women have different
desires when they make use of my services. Some find giving more thrilling than
receiving. Some simply want the practice.”

Lori thought
about that for a moment. It was something she’d never even considered before.

Ander cleared
his throat, bringing her attention back to him. “Perhaps you can give me a
little information about your goals for this engagement.”

She nodded. “Right.
Well, I sure as hell wouldn’t pay this much money for a date.” She took a
breath. Summoned all her fortitude and courage. “I want to have sex.”

“Yes, but what
are your goals for the sex? Are you looking for a particular mood or brand of
excitement? Do you just want to relieve tension? Get something you can’t get
from other partners? I’m not trying to pry into your personal motivations, but
I need a little direction if we’re to make this a successful engagement.”

“Right.” She
shifted on the bench. Told herself she would be paying this man a lot of money
a few days from now so she had nothing to be embarrassed about. And surely he’d
encountered a lot of stranger things in his line of work. “I want to have sex
because I haven’t had it before. Yet.”

To her infinite
relief, Ander didn’t even bat an eye. “I see. Did you have any specific details
you wanted to play out? A particular fantasy?”

“No fantasy. I
just want to get it over with.” When she realized how that must have sounded,
she shot him a rueful look. “That came out worse than I meant it. I’d like it
to be good, of course. As good as possible, I mean. I don’t have any
unrealistic expectations. No romanticizing or anything.”

He nodded, his
brows pulling together like he was reflecting. “Do you have oral experience?”

She shook her
head with a long sigh. She seemed to have gone past embarrassment now to a
weird state of restless resignation. “No. Nothing really. I’ve had some
make-out sessions, but they weren’t very good and I couldn’t really get into
them. I can’t even get myself off very well.” She slanted a sharp look over at
his face to check his expression, but he still showed no signs of surprise.

“In that case,
it might be a good idea to start with oral. There’s a better chance of your
reaching climax that way.”

Despite the
bizarre situation, Lori couldn’t help but give a little snort. “And I suppose
that doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that
that
service is more
expensive than intercourse?”

This time,
there was no mistaking the slight twitch of his lips. His eyes glinted briefly
with amusement. “Just a suggestion.”

“Why is it more
expensive?” she blurted out, her curiosity once more taking over.

“It’s more
intimate,” he murmured, for the first time glancing away. “On my part.”

Lori wrinkled
her brow as she mulled that one over. When she realized he was waiting for a
response to their previous discussion, she pulled herself back to the topic at
hand. “Well, you’re probably right about starting with oral.” She added glumly,
“I would like to have a good orgasm at least once in my life.” Money wasn’t an
issue for her. After four bestselling novels in three years, she had more than
enough of that.

“We’ll do the
best we can,” Ander said matter-of-factly. “Friday still works for you?”

“Yeah.”

“The evening
starts at seven o’clock and goes until midnight—unless other arrangements have
been made in advance. Did you want to do anything beforehand? Dinner perhaps?”

To Lori, that
sounded absurd. She wasn’t trying to trick herself into believing this was a
real date. She had no delusions about what she was about to do, and trying to
romanticize it would only make things more confusing. But because she was
starting to feel really nervous again, she quipped to break the tension, “I
suppose I’d have to pay for dinner too.”

Ander arched an
eyebrow.

She snickered.
“Right. I know. Sorry. That was on your handy list of prices and terms. I don’t
want to waste time doing anything beforehand anyway.”

“We can meet at
your place or at a hotel.”

“A hotel. I can
email you the details tomorrow after I’ve made a reservation.”

“Excellent.” Ander
stood up and smiled down on her—once more that urbane, sensual smile he’d
mastered perfectly. “If you have any other questions or concerns, feel free to
email or call me about them.”

Lori stood up
too. She had to look up in order to meet his eyes. “Yes. Good.”

He extended a
hand and she reached to shake it. Once again, his hand was startlingly warm. “I
will see you on Friday at seven.”

“Right. Good.
I’m looking forward to it.” As he started to walk away, she watched his lean,
straight back and tight butt in his well-tailored trousers.

She gulped. “I
think.”

 

Two

 

Lori checked into her room in an
upscale Seattle hotel at about six o’clock on Friday evening. She wanted to get
there early enough to relax and prepare before Ander arrived.

She’d started
to change her mind about this encounter about twenty times over the last three
days. But she’d never done things the conventional way, and she was determined
to go through with this. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t the traditional way—or
even a likely way—for a woman to lose her virginity.

It made sense
to
her
, given her situation. She was going to do it this way.

After putting
the appropriately counted wad of cash in an envelope on the table, she took a
half-hour bath in the jetted tub, making sure to shave carefully and ensure she
was presentable for sex. While she had no need to impress Ander or try to
attract him, she didn’t want to embarrass herself with excess hair. The bath
helped to relax her, as did the second glass of white wine she poured from the
bottle she ordered from room service. She’d turned off her cell phone when
she’d arrived, knowing that pestering calls from Sabrina would only make her
more nervous at this point in the process.

She wasn’t sure
what she should wear. She’d feel stupid in sexy lingerie. But her street
clothes hardly seemed appropriate. So she’d brought her favorite pajama set
with her—camisole and flowing pants in soft lavender cashmere. They were
comfortable and flattering, and it was the best she could come up with.

For the moment,
she covered them with a long, belted sweater so she wouldn’t feel so silly when
Ander arrived.

She put on some
melon-scented lotion. Combed out her hair. Brushed her teeth. Decided to go
without makeup.

Then she took
her half-drunk glass of wine and sat stiffly on a chair by the window.
Recounted the cash.

Hoped she
wasn’t going to be sick.

Before she
could work up any truly debilitating nerves, there was a knock on the door. Ander.
Five minutes early.

“Good evening,”
he said with that same urbane, sensual smile he’d showed her before. He wore
black and gray again—this evening a thin charcoal gray sweater with a sleek
black jacket over it.

“Hi. Good
evening. Thanks for coming. Come in.” She cringed at how stupid she’d sounded,
but made herself push through her discomfort. She was paying a lot for this
evening. It was a business transaction. She had no reason to worry about
whether she sounded stupid or whether Ander knew how nervous she was. This was
her deal, and she was in control of it.

All the same,
she hurried back to her glass of wine.

Ander glanced
around the room as he walked in, apparently making note of the king-sized bed
with white duvet, the clean lines of the sofa, and the large entertainment
center against the wall. When he turned back to her and saw her taking a long
sip, he asked, “How much of that have you had?”

It was an
unexpected way for him to begin this encounter, but it actually made Lori more
comfortable. She smiled dryly. “This is just my second glass. I didn’t want to
be schnockered, but I thought a very mild buzz might help.”

He nodded with
another smile, this one a little less practiced.

“Do you want a
glass?” she asked, sitting down on the edge of one of the chairs beside the
small round table.

“Thank you.” Ander
sat down in the other chair and put the black leather case he carried on the
floor at his feet.

Lori peered at
it curiously as she handed Ander a glass of wine.

Noticing her
look, he opened the case and pulled out a couple of DVDs. “Since you weren’t
interested in any particular fantasy or role play,” he explained, “I thought it
might be helpful to bring these.” He slid them over on the table so she could
see the covers. “They’re female-oriented erotic films. I don’t think you’ll
find them tacky or vulgar. And the more aroused you are, the better this
evening will go. Does this sort of thing work for you?”

“I don’t know.
All I’ve ever seen is porn with big bouncing boobs. I hope that’s not what this
is like.”

The corner of Ander’s
mouth did that appealing little twitch. “No big bouncing boobs. Why don’t we
try one of these, if you don’t have other ideas?”

Lori nodded,
ridiculously relieved that she wouldn’t immediately have to get naked and
spread her legs. She took her wine and went over to sit on the sofa while Ander
walked over to the DVD player.

“Do you prefer
business-types or manual laborers?” Ander asked, looking at her with cool
courtesy over his shoulder.

“Business-types.”
She curled up her legs to get herself comfortable and idly started to imagine
how she would describe this to Sabrina tomorrow morning. It was certainly
better than pretending to be out on a romantic date with Ander before having
sex. But still...watching porn with a male escort was definitely an atypical
experience.

Ander slid the
appropriate DVD into the player. “The film is just under two hours, so we can
watch the whole thing and still have plenty of time to move on from there. But
let me know if it’s not working. And if you decide you want to move on before
the film is over, just tell me that too.”

Lori nodded,
swallowing an overly large sip of wine. She couldn’t imagine herself so
overwhelmed with desire that she’d want to jump up and hit the bed in the
middle of an erotic film. While her body reacted the way it supposed to when
exposed to sexual stimuli—particularly the smutty parts of well-written romance
novels—she’d never felt particularly urgent about physical arousal.

She’d read
thousands of love scenes in books. Some hot and some laughable. After reading
one of the purple-prose variety in college, she’d vowed she could write a
better one, even without any real-life experience. So for fun she’d written a
sex scene. Then she’d written a novel to go with it. Not a very good novel.
She’d tried and failed to get it published. But it was a start. She wrote two
more unpublished novels in college. But it wasn’t until the year after she
graduated, working as a copyeditor at a local paper, that she actually made
progress toward publication. She’d met a literary agent who’d asked to look at
the fourth, and best, novel Lori had written. That novel ended up, by one of
the unpredictable flukes of the publishing industry, becoming a romance
bestseller. As did the three that followed.

Sometimes, when
Lori wrote her own love scenes, she became aroused. She was emotionally
invested in her characters, and she responded physically to the pleasure she
gave them.

One more irony
of her inexplicable life.

As the movie
started to run, Lori looked over at Ander, who’d taken off his jacket and then
taken his seat again next to the table. “Are you all right over there?” she
asked, “Did you need anything? You can sit on the sofa—it’s got to be more
comfortable than that chair.”

Ander said he
didn’t need anything, but he did move to sit on the other side of the sofa,
slouching down a little and stretching out his long legs.

“How many times
have you seen this movie?” Lori asked, giving him a sidelong glance.

“Don’t ask.”

She chuckled,
feeling more relaxed than she’d expected. She stiffened a little when the film
jumped right into a love scene, complete with naked, panting people. But it was
unlike any piece of porn she’d ever seen before. An actual storyline soon
developed, and the actors and director were good.

And the sex...the
sex was very sexy.

Less than a
half-hour into the movie, Lori was aroused. But by that time she was actually
kind of into the movie, and she figured the more aroused she was the better. At
one point, Ander looked over at her and asked if she was enjoying the movie or
whether they should try something else. She told him the movie was
good—although she was tempted to shush him for interrupting a particularly good
scene.

BOOK: Escorted
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