For the Night: Complete Box Set (43 page)

Logan

I watched the limo drive
off, feeling sick. I’d never been needy with a woman,
never,
but the
effect she had on me was unprecedented. This was going to be my fastest
evaluation after an appointment ever. I pulled out my phone and marked her
email as a VIP, joining the ranks of my best friend, Ian, James and my family.
It was a short list and no other woman had ever graced it.

I couldn’t believe she’d walked into my room and
seen the St Andrew’s cross and the bed. I’d never used either of them, they
were there ready for the person that one day I’d hoped to share my life with. I
already knew she was that woman, but that wasn’t the way I wanted her to find
out, she was too naïve and innocent to understand that I’d never hurt her
against her will, or without her begging me to inflict a little pain on her.
She may not trust me yet, but I excelled in everything I did. If she wanted to
just try being friends first and getting to know each other better, I was going
to be the best God damn friend she’d ever known. Having no sex until she truly
felt I was for real, was going to be a killer, but I’d warrant her sexual
desire for me would soon override this crazy plan of hers. I’d never had a
woman resist me yet, it was both infuriating and a seriously hot challenge.

I’d been stupid refusing to give up my clients,
I’d just risked her for pride and money, money I already had and didn’t need.
What
the fuck was wrong with me?
I was a stubborn, old fashioned guy, that was
what. I didn’t like having a woman tell me what to do and I’d retaliated the
only way I knew how, by digging in my heels. In my eyes Daron seeing her
breasts, touching her body and faking sex with her, was no different to what I
did, week in, week out. I was also kind of scared how fast my feelings for her
were developing, maybe it was a last ditch attempt at self-protection. Trying
to push her away, before she did the same to me. All I knew was that if she
wasn’t going to date me, I didn’t want anyone else. I’d only considered the
possibility of giving up the escorting for her last night, it had never been in
my master plan, not for some years anyway.

I flicked through my files, I was supposed to be
seeing Eve Myers on Saturday night, all the arrangements were already in place.
I was going to have to cancel, I was going to have to cancel all of my clients.
Even if we were just seeing each other as friends, I knew how I’d feel if
Summer even kissed another man, it would eat me up inside, I felt angry just at
the thought of it. She was right, I couldn’t expect her to refrain if I wasn’t
going to. I waited until the limo disappeared from view, then went in, closed
the door and poured myself a glass of water with a twist of lime. I needed to
go and work out, get some of this tension out of my body. She’d ring, of course
she’d ring, look at the state of her when she left. She hurt, as much as I did
saying goodbye. If I was a betting man I’d lay all of my money and worldly
possessions on the fact that I’d be answering her call, long before I crawled
into my bed tonight. A bed what would still have her scent all over it. I
grinned at the thought and rang my best friend, to tell him my good news.

I obliterated my punching bag and tore off my
gloves to look at my bruised and bleeding knuckles. I’d never felt rage like it.
It was nearly a week since James drove off with Summer, five fucking days and
I’d not had one call, text or email. I’d been like a bloody teenage girl with a
crush, checking my phone every few minutes for the first few days, never
venturing anywhere without it by my side, in case I missed her call. Who waited
that long to set up a date? Even if it was just a date as friends? My spirits
had diminished with each hour that passed that I didn’t get a call from her.
I’d come to the realisation that I’d put her on the spot on Sunday, and she’d
obviously felt pressured and now she’d changed her mind, yet she didn’t even
have the courtesy to send me a damn message to tell me thanks, but no? I’d told
her I’d be holding my breath, well she’d just sucked all the fucking oxygen out
of my lungs, as well as taking my damn heart at the same time. All I felt was
angry and empty inside. Nothing I did made me feel, not even the blood
trickling down my fingers. I was completely numb. I hadn’t even masturbated, I
refused to, as every time I gripped my cock, her face would fill my head. I
needed a serious distraction. I’d been so focussed on waiting to hear from her,
that I’d not got around to cancelling my appointments and it was a good job I
hadn’t. Here was me willing to give it all up for her, when she obviously
decided I wasn’t worthy of her time. I was too high risk. I’d known getting
involved in this profession could screw with my personal life, but I’d never
imagined it would be the death of it.

With a heavy heart I reluctantly turned my
attention to my booking tomorrow with Eve. If I couldn’t have Summer, I’d fuck
her well and truly out of my system, however many clients it took. So what if
my newly found and short lived personal life was screwed, it didn’t mean my
professional life had to be.

Eve Myers, a new client,
had always craved a bad boy in leathers fantasy, which I was in the perfect
position to fulfil. I had a vintage bike of my own, which I often rode to blow
off steam and clear my head. Given my last encounter, a night like that was
just what was needed, raw, rough and hard. Eve’s fantasy involved a workshop,
oil and sweat, then a long ride, in more ways than one, followed by some
outdoor night time action in the country. I had the feeling that this was going
to be one dirty job, but Logan Steele and dirty were seriously old friends.
Well buckle up Eve, because you’re about to have the ride of your life.

I flexed my knuckles with
a wince, I’d ripped them up pounding on the punch bag yesterday morning, trying
to get rid of some anger. It hadn’t worked at all. In five years I’d slept with
countless clients and I’d never got emotionally attached to a single one.
Except for her. My beautiful angel, Summer Beresford. Ten months ago she’d
booked me to take her virginity, to help build her confidence for her first
film role in the
Broken Promises Trilogy
, based on a series of
successful erotic romance novels. She’d wanted to tap into her sexuality. While
the appointment had some success for her, it had blown my mind and she’d become
all I could think about. I’d driven her home the next morning, another first,
then turned up on her street again, toying with the idea of asking her out. I’d
bottled it, until my green eyed monster raised his ugly head when rumours of an
affair with her co-star Daron Beck surfaced the week before her film premiere.
I’d turned up and surprised her in a limo, having arranged to accompany her
myself without her finding out. After some initial resistance on her part, we’d
spent another amazing night together, where both of us had admitted that we had
feelings for each other, that we wanted more.

Sadly things hadn’t gone so well the next morning,
when she discovered my real life sexual preference for BDSM and I stubbornly
refused to give up my escorting career until I knew if we could work out a
relationship. It had been left that I’d given her my private number, a number
that was rarer than a picture of Kim Kardashian without her backside in focus.
Summer had promised to call me, so we could go on a date as friends, get to
know each other, before making a decision how we were going to move forwards.
That had been a week ago. A whole damn week of me acting like a lovesick
teenager, checking my phone every few minutes waiting for her to contact me.
I’d made it clear that the ball was in her court, that I wouldn’t pursue her
again. I’d even written a heartfelt note on the slip of paper containing my
number, telling her I’d be holding my breath until she called. Well she’d
obviously decided she’d rather I asphyxiate, than take a risk and give me a
chance. Sure, I knew I was a gamble, I was a male escort for God’s sake, lying
was something I’d had to get used to pretty damn fast with some of the vain
self-centred women who paid me, but I’d never lied to
her
. I may be
evasive in my personal life, to cover up my career, but I never lied, only with
clients. When I’d told her she was beautiful, that our nights together had been
the best of my life, that I wanted her like I’d never wanted anybody, that had
been the truth. I’d even realised, after she left my place in tears on Sunday,
that I’d been a fool refusing to give up my escorting for her, I’d been prepared
to give it all up, for her.

For nothing.

I cricked my neck and blew out a heated breath, I
was getting angry again. I’d never put myself out as much as I had for her,
there was obviously nothing else I could do to convince her and I wasn’t going
to try. Not hearing from her had devastated me, women around the world desired
me, they fought over me, some even tried to blackmail me into becoming their
personal fuck toy. There was a reason I was the best, that my reputation
preceded me, virtually no one could resist me. Except the one damn woman I
actually wanted. The one I was now going to get out of my system by fucking as
many clients as was humanly possible, until the pain that saturated my very
bones was dulled by an overdose of sexual endorphins. I was resolved that I
wasn’t ever going to set eyes on Summer damn Beresford again. Right up until
the moment I emptied my letterbox to find her as the headline of my newspaper,
yet again. With Daron fucking Beck at her side, his arm around her waist, again.
I immediately ripped it to shreds with a growl and shoved the pieces in the
dustbin, before throwing myself down on the sofa.

How the hell was I supposed to forget her?
I’d known she was going to be a star from the moment I first saw her photo on
that booking request. Since her premiere everyone was going crazy for her,
saying she was the next Jennifer Lawrence. Rumours were, that her agent had
already secured her a ridiculous amount to star in the remaining two films of
the trilogy and he was fielding offers for up and coming projects that were set
to make her millions. I was happy for her, she worked hard and was so humble
and down to earth with it, but I hated the fact that I was never going to be
able to get away from her. She was on TV, the radio, in newspapers and
magazines. Before long she’d probably be doing international advertising
campaigns for designer brands. I tried to reassure myself that her feelings for
me were genuine, that she hadn’t called me because her agent had told her that
her career came first, I’d been stupid enough to think mine should, why
shouldn’t she?

I checked my watch, it was nearly time to leave.
Eve Myers was my client for tonight, wanting a bad boy biker fantasy. I’d toyed
with taking my own bike out, a Harley Davidson Rocker with twin cam engine. It
was tricked out in a sexy vivid black and immaculate chrome, just thinking
about it got me hard. In addition to the fact that I didn’t want to risk Eve
scratching it, I also realised that I couldn’t allow her to see the number
plates, or she could try to trace me. Very few people knew my real identity and
I wanted it to stay that way. I hadn’t even got around to telling Summer my
real name, so I’d be damned if I’d risk it for a thrill with a new client.
Instead, I’d hired a VRSC Night Rod Special, in pitch black with orange trim.
I’d accessorised my ripped denim jeans, black leather boots, and white t-shirt
with a fitted black leather jacket with an orange stripe, to match the bike, that
was currently sitting in a workshop in the East End of London, which I’d
secured for the night from my mechanic, Ray.

Eve wanted the real roughing it experience, her
explicit instructions were to push her to the limits, to bite her, spank her
and pound her until she begged me to stop. As long as I didn’t leave any
bruises, which was totally against my code anyway, rough sex was fine, not
abusive sex. Well she was going to get it rough for sure. There wasn’t going to
be any fancy hotel tonight, it was a mattress on a sleeping platform above Ray’s
demountable office in the corner of the workshop, where he sometimes stayed
over if he was working late. I still had my standards though, I’d purchased a
new mattress, pillows, duvet and linen for the occasion, towels too, which Ray
insisted was all the payment he needed if he got to keep them after. I checked
the overnight bag I’d prepared, with a change of clothes, my wash kit, the
usual stock of condoms and lubricant, not that wetness was usually an issue
with any of the women I bedded, the opposite in fact. Most of them creamed
their knickers before I even got naked and they set their eyes on my impressive
erection. I’d also purchased Eve’s favourite toiletries and some fresh
underwear for the morning, all thanks to my IT tech Ian Smith, who accessed all
my clients’ financial records and online accounts to discover what they used. I
doubted even the FBI would be able to keep him out if he wanted to hack them,
assuming he hadn’t already. I smiled as I checked my watch again when my
doorbell rang, good old James, punctual as ever. I flung the door open, eager
to get out and give myself something else, other than Summer, to focus on.

‘Good evening, Sir,’ nodded James.

‘Hello, James. Why the face?’ I asked, as I saw
him trying to contain a smile.

‘I’m sorry, I’m just used to you in suits, not
this … casual “wanna be bad boy” look,’ he replied, as he indicated with a
finger up and down my outfit.

‘I’ll have you know that I
am
a bad boy,
for real. I have a Harley in the basement, thank you very much.’

‘Then may I enquire why the hell I’m chauffeuring
you around at all hours of the day and night?’

‘Because I pay you exceeding well to,’ I retorted
rather more sharply than I’d intended. James quickly opened the back door of
the Mercedes for me and dipped his head as a way of apology, as I folded my
tall frame into the back seat. ‘I’m sorry,’ I sighed, as I looked up at him.
‘You didn’t deserve that. I’m not in the best of moods I’m afraid, but that’s
no excuse for me taking it out on you.’

‘Understood, Sir. Say no more,’ he replied, as he
closed the door. I rested my elbow on the door frame as I frowned out of the
window, I needed to get my head in the game. This was my career, a career it
seemed I’d be having for a long time. If I couldn’t tell Summer I was prepared
to quit, then I doubted anyone else would ever tempt me to consider giving it
up in the future. James and I remained unusually silent as we drove through
London, but a question that I’d been toying with kept rising to the forefront
of my mind.

‘James?’

‘Yes, Sir?’

‘Last Sunday, when you took Miss Beresford home, I
don’t suppose you found a handwritten note when you were giving the inside of
the car a clean, did you?’ I held my breath as I waited for his response, I
really hoped he had, that the only reason she hadn’t called me was simply that
she’d lost my number.

‘No, Sir and I always inspect the cars thoroughly
before cleaning them, after every booking.’

‘Right,’ I sighed and pinched the top of my nose
as I closed my eyes, he’d just blown my last shred of hope to smithereens. So
that was it, we were done, once and for all.

‘Please tell me if I’m speaking out of turn, Sir,
but you seem more out of sorts than normal. Has something happened with Miss
Beresford?’

‘Precisely nothing has happened with Miss Beresford,
which is the reason for my less than amiable mood.’

‘I’m very sorry to hear that, Sir. I really
thought that the two of you were well suited.’

‘So did I, James, so did I. Are we all set for
this evening?’

‘Of course we are. I gave David the outfit for
Miss Myers in the gift box from you, ready to deliver at precisely
seven-thirty, then he’ll go around to the servants entrance to pick her up at
eight o’clock, as planned.’

‘Are you sure he’s up to the task?’ I enquired.
Eve’s lineage meant that she rarely went anywhere without a bodyguard tailing
her. She’d asked me to ensure that my driver would be skilled enough to shake
him, James had personally recommended David.

‘Honestly, Sir, he’d give me a run for my money
behind the wheel.’

‘You’re not saying he’d actually drive at the
speed limit?’ I grinned, with a mock gasp.

‘I’m only being respectful of you in the back
seat,’ James responded, with the closest to a scowl I’d ever seen on him in the
mirrored reflection.

‘Sure, whatever you need to tell yourself,’ I
winked.

‘What are you doing a week on Tuesday?’

‘Talk about random,’ I laughed.

‘You’re casting aspersions on my driving ability.
I’m going to prove that you have no idea what I’m capable of. If you’re free
I’ll pick you up at eight a.m. Every other month I spend a day at a race track,
practicing on their formula one speed track, off roading, the skid pan and
rally course, keeping my skills up to date. I’d suggest you wear an adult
nappy, in case I make you ruin those fancy designer jeans you’re so fond of.’

‘An adult nappy?!’ I let out a loud guffaw of
laughter. James never failed to cheer me up.

‘So do we have a date, Sir? A very male platonic,
I’ll make you eat your words, date?’

‘We certainly do, James. We certainly do.’

‘Then be thankful I didn’t invite you to my Krav
Maga class, I’d wipe the floor with you and you’d need help to change that
soiled nappy, as your wrists would be in plaster casts.’

‘James,’ I chortled. Deadly and funny. He
was
a breath of fresh air, fresh air I’d been in desperate need of.

‘Do you have a change of clothes for when I
collect you in the morning? I don’t fancy spending my Sunday cleaning grease or
oil off the leather. Mrs. Smith and I have plans.’

‘I have a change of clothes, yes,’ I replied.
‘It’s not my first day on the job. What plans do you have?’

‘O I couldn’t possibly tell you that, Sir, or I’d
have to kill you,’ he winked in the mirror, making me smile again. It really
was a pretty shitty state of affairs, when my chauffeur was the only person
able to put a smile on my face in a whole damn week.