Read Ménage for the Night Online
Authors: C. J. Fallowfield,Karen J,Book Cover By Design
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Humorous, #Romantic Erotica
Ménage for the Night
Ménage
for the Night
C.J. Fallowfield
Kindle Edition
Version 1E
ASIN: B00PMDOG3M
Copyright © 2014 C. J.
Fallowfield
All Rights Reserved Worldwide
Any unauthorised reprint or use
of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or
transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system
without express written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
I am a British author and write in British
English.
Image Copyright © 2014
Edited by Karen J
Proof Reading by Fallowettes
Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by
Design
http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk
Foreword
Written
as standalone quick hot reads,
For the Night
novellas are told in
alternating points of view of Logan Steele, and his client, or clients. However,
in order to fully enjoy Logan’s development, they should be read in the sequence
that they are released:
Strangers
for the Night
Virgin
for the Night
Filthy
for the Night
Ménage
for the Night
Sophisticated for the Night
Biker for the Night
Dominant for the Night
Actor for the Night
For
more information on new and existing works, please see my social media links:
http://www.cjfallowfield.co.uk
https://www.facebook.com/cjfallowfield
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7807992.C_J_Fallowfield
Chapters
Logan
My name is Logan Steele. I’m
devilishly handsome, seriously ripped, well hung, charismatic and highly sexed.
Women just can’t resist me. So when I lost my job in the construction industry
and was struggling for cash, I decided to put my assets to good use.
By day I’m a private personal
fitness trainer. By night I’m a high class gigolo.
I don’t advertise my sexual services
anymore, I have a long client list that come to me through word of mouth. I’m
that good, I’m booked months in advance. Scores of women pay me extortionately
high fees to fulfil their fantasies. And for the most part I do. I have a
strict set of rules that I abide by, which are provided in the full contract
that you’ll receive along with the booking form, if accepted. I’ve bullet
pointed an abridged version below, just so you’re clear before you send me an
email request:
Rules my clients must comply with
are:
I must see a picture in advance.
I can decline the booking request without
explanation.
I can only be booked for the night.
All sexual acts must be consensual.
I will provide you with a report to
complete, then I will choose the setting for our meeting based on your
scenario.
I am flown first class or by private
jet if I am required to work abroad.
In the event of the above, I will
provide my dietary requirements in advance.
I will perform a full background
check.
I base my variable charge on the
scenario being requested.
“No” rules that I stipulate are:
No bareback.
No minors.
No physical violence.
Nothing illegal.
No form of emotional attachment
during or after the event. I am merely performing a sexual or companion
service.
No contact after the event, unless
it is for a new booking.
And my absolute number one rule,
without exception is:
Full payment up front, which is non-
refundable. There is no requirement for a refund clause, I never fail to
perform.
So, now you are aware of my rules
for the night and are about to contact me, all that remains to be asked is “Who
do you want me to be?”
I took a deep breath as I checked my
appearance in the mirror again and straightened my dark grey tie, before
shrugging on my light grey suit jacket. It was nearly time to leave for my next
appointment with one of my regulars, Ava Renshaw. I actually had a soft spot
for Ava. She wasn’t like some of my other clients, fake, self-centred and
spoilt. She was a damned attractive brunette, in her mid-forties, but she still
had a killer figure. She was married to money, David Renshaw was a very
successful international banker, but it seemed he was more turned on by his
money than his wife. Their sex life was non-existent, and while Ava didn’t want
to cheat, she was starved of attention and affection, often left at home while
he travelled overseas. She saw hiring me as less of a sin than getting
emotionally involved with another man, I was just providing her with sex where
she was lacking, nothing more nothing less.
It was clear that I didn’t understand men as well as I
should, being one myself. When you had a woman as attractive as that at home,
who was willing and eager and didn’t lack for skills in bed, why wouldn’t you
want her? It may seem a bit hypocritical of me to praise the virtues of marital
sex, given my main career choice, but that was because I was single. If I was
married to a woman with sex appeal like Ava, I’d be giving her my full
attention on a regular basis, multiple times daily. I buttoned up my jacket and
sighed. It had been nine months since I’d last given my full attention to a
woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had plenty of client appointments in the last
nine months, my calendar was always full such was my reputation for being the
best in the industry, but they were duties to be fulfilled. A job in exchange for
financial reward. They didn’t get my full attention, nor should they, or what
would I have left for my private life? I laughed again, what private life? I
didn’t have one. No, the last time I’d been fully in the moment with a woman,
was with my virgin for the night appointment with Summer Beresford.
Damn it. Nine months, nine
bloody
months and I still
couldn’t get that damn woman out of my head. Her booking hadn’t just been about
me performing a service for monetary reward, she’d got to me in ways no other
woman ever had, not even in my sorely lacking personal life outside of “the
job.” She’d made me feel, care, and want to protect. I could really fall for
her in real life. I shook my head with a wry smile. Who the fuck was I kidding?
I
had
really fallen for her, and the real kicker? She hadn’t had a damn
clue. She assumed all my words and actions were just Logan Steele, experienced hired
seductor of women doing what she’d paid him to do. I’d tried to forget about
her, even deleted her client file and blocked her email, just in case she tried
to book me again. Never get emotionally attached to a client was my main
mantra, one I’d seriously fucked up the day I accepted her booking. The trouble
was, her debut movie was having its premiere in Leicester Square next Saturday
night and everywhere I looked, there she was. Magazine covers, interviews on
the television, billboards, even on the damn radio. I couldn’t forget her even
if I wanted to. I’d even had a moment of weakness and had driven to where she
lived and parked up the street, sitting in my car for an hour while I argued
with myself as to whether to knock on her door, before mentally slapping myself
and roaring off. I was the guy she paid to fuck her, nothing more. No woman in
their right mind would want to date a guy with my background. I slipped my
phone into my trouser pocket as the intercom buzzed and headed out to meet my
driver James. It was time to put my game face on.
‘Evening, Sir. How are you?’
‘Excellent thank you, James. You?’
‘I can’t complain,’ he smiled as he held the back door open
for me and I slid inside. He started the engine and pulled out before speaking
again. ‘Are we picking up Mr. Douglas on the way, or is he meeting us there?’
‘Meeting us there,’ I nodded. ‘I didn’t think it would do my
reputation any good, if I was caught booking into a hotel suite with another
man.’ I flashed him a smile in the rear view mirror and he chuckled.
‘No, I suppose it wouldn’t. Unless of course you were
thinking of branching out?’
‘No I wasn’t,’ I retorted quickly. I’d booked Trey Douglas
for tonight, another up and coming male escort, nearly as well hung as I was.
He had that blond haired, blue eyed, baby face look going on, that a lot of
women seemed drawn too. He was only twenty one and eager to learn, so I’d taken
him under my wing and had been advising him, giving him some tips and
techniques, without giving away all of my of secrets of course. He was my go to
guy for a ménage scenario. I’d made it clear from the beginning that I was in charge,
I called the shots and if he tried to poach one of my clients, I’d blacklist
him. He’d also received fair warning that he’d receive a black eye, or worse,
if I felt a hand, tongue or any other appendage anywhere on my anatomy. He’d
looked mortified, he was as into women as I was and it made our sessions a
whole lot more relaxed that we knew we were both there to focus on the woman
and not on each other.
‘I left your overnight bag in your suite and the morning
after gift box you prepared for Mrs. Renshaw with her toiletries and fresh
lingerie, as usual.’
‘Excellent, thank you, James.’
‘I notice that you’ve not booked The Dalton Hotel for a
while, Sir,’ James observed.
‘No,’ I replied, as my lips curled into a smile. James might
be an ex-marine, trained to be sneaky and covert, on top of deadly, but he was
never subtle when it came to trying to push me in a certain direction.
‘May I ask the reason?’
‘I think that’s a rhetorical question, as you already know
the reason, James.’
‘Well of course I do, I just wondered if you did,’ he
smiled. I shook my head, between him and my best friend they seemed determined
to force me to deal with my inappropriate feelings for Summer. The Dalton Hotel
had always been my go to hotel in London for clients, unless their fantasy
didn’t involve a hotel bed, but since that night with Summer, I couldn’t bring
myself to take anyone else there. Like fucking someone else in the bed where
we’d first made love, where
I’d
first made love instead of just fucking,
would dilute those memories I had left of the best night of my damn life.
‘Then let’s just leave it that we both do then, shall we?’ I
replied.
‘Didn’t mean to overstep, Sir.’
‘Please, I thought you were taught better poker face skills
than that in the military,’ I laughed.
‘You don’t like her enough to pursue her?’
‘She doesn’t like me enough to be pursued.’
‘And how would you know if you haven’t tried? In order to
fail at something, one must first attempt to succeed.’
‘Watch out James, they’ll be building some Tibetan temple
and a bronze statue of you somewhere, for people to worship at, if you carry on
with pearls of wisdom like that.’
‘Are you calling me a fat Buddha, Sir?’
‘No one in their right mind would dare to, with your combat
training,’ I grinned. ‘Miss Beresford is too nice for the likes of me, James.
She’s pure and innocent and a man like me would only corrupt and taint her.’
‘I thought you’d already …
tainted
her, Sir,’ James
coughed. ‘Besides, wouldn’t it be better for her to be with a decent honourable
man like you, than someone else who may not place her welfare as their top
priority?’
‘And what makes you think I’m the sort of man to do that?’ I
enquired with a raised brow.
‘You wouldn’t be so busy in your evening profession if you
weren’t, Sir,’ he replied. ‘I also know that Mr. Davenport wouldn’t hold you in
such high esteem if you weren’t a good man. He’s a very good judge of
character, any man he calls a best friend, is an honest, decent man.’
I smiled, James was shrewd, he saw right through me. I
looked out of the window and frowned. Thinking about her with someone else
slayed me, but she did deserve better than me. She deserved someone without my
rather chequered past and present. A woman would never be able to trust me if
she knew my history. One day, when I was ready to quit this lifestyle and just
focus on my physical training clients, or even take up my best friend’s offer
of a management job in his own firm, then I could think about finding a girl to
go steady with. But my days as an escort were going to have to stay firmly
buried, if I stood a chance with anyone.