The Escort Trilogy (Books 1-3) Page 7

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means that people might start asking why twenty-three men in my department have each paid me a hundred dollars," he said ominously. "Some of them more than once. If this goes too far, Allie, the police might get involved. We might both be looking at charges of solicitation."

  I stopped in my tracks, a feeling of dread falling over me like a dark cloud. "Oh, God."

  "Now, don't freak out—"

  "Easy for you to say!" I blurted. "You're not the one who's being used to fuck over a whole company!"

  "I don't think that's what he's doing," said Sean. "I think he's just providing a little...insurance."

  "To make sure I go through with it."

  "Yeah. Think so."

  "So what now?"

  "Now...I make the transfer, confirm that Troy can pay the amount—and he can, believe me—and then I give him your phone number. What happens then is up to you."

  I huffed, sitting on a wooden bench beneath a tree on the edge of campus. "You know, when he came in to see me, he seemed so nice, like...like—"

  "Yeah, I know. That's the way he is. Everyone calls him the 'Godfather' because he'll take you under his wing and he treats everyone like family. But piss him off and he sends out the hit squad."

  I gasped. "Oh, God!"

  "Calm down. I didn't mean that literally. You're not gonna get hurt if you back out."

  "But I will go to jail," I said in a shaking voice.

  "Look, chances are—"

  "Give him my number," I said.

  "...Are you sure?"

  "Just do it, Sean. Like you said, what happens now is up to me."

  * * *

  My phone buzzed a few times during the day, and every time I answered it, I feared—or anticipated—that it would be Troy. But it never was. Just friends calling to say hi, or someone from work wanting to switch shifts.

  I thought about Troy. The image I had from our one and only meeting was of a cool, confident older man, a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. I saw him as being direct, for the most part, and tactful. I had a hard time picturing the ruthless snake Sean painted him to be. But Sean knew Troy better than I did; at the least, he knew a hell of a lot more about Troy's business practices than I did.

  I was conflicted in my emotions. I wasn't sure if the Troy I met, with his confidence and sexy demeanor and gorgeous dark eyes was really Troy at all, or just a front he had put on for my benefit. After all, what kind of man would introduce his wife and daughter to the girl he intended to deflower?

  I had switched with another server that night, an older woman named Joan who wanted a night out with her new boyfriend. She had agreed to work my Thursday night shift in exchange. I was glad to work; it helped me take my mind off Troy.

  Or so I thought.

  "Hey, Allie, that cute older guy is here again," Brittany, the hostess, said to me as I was refilling sodas at the beverage station. "He's waiting up front."

  I stiffened a little and almost dropped the glass I was holding. I knew exactly who Brittany meant. And so did Lily, standing next to me.

  "'Cute older guy?'" she echoed with a sly grin.

  I blushed. "H-he's just a regular," I said, trying to play it off. "He came in with his wife and daughter one night—"

  "Yeah, I know," said Lily. "I was working that night, too. I also happened to notice you and Mr. Cute Older Guy sneak off to the bathroom for a few minutes. So what do you get from him, huh?"

  I felt shaky. "Wh-what do you mean?"

  Lily rolled her eyes. "Please," she said patronizingly. "You might think you're being slick, but I've heard about the 'blowjob girl.' My friend works at the DVD store. He says you go in there all the time to see Doug. You always walk out with a couple of movies and Doug's always got this big grin on his face."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," I said, setting my drinks on a tray.

  "No?" she asked with a little laugh. "Well, what about that guy at the bed and bath store? Or that black guy at the shoe store? I've seen you, Allie, and I'm not the only one."

  My face felt hot. "S-seen what?"

  Lily laughed and touched my shoulder, leaning close. I felt her breath in my ear. "Do you really swallow every time?" she asked.

  I shuddered, both from embarrassment and arousal. "Y-Lily—"

  "Hey, I'm not gonna tell no one," she said. "I think it's hot. I just wanna know: do you always swallow? Huh? Do you like swallowing cum, Allie?"

  I pushed away from the beverage station, giving Lily a furtive look. "I g-gotta...my tables need me." I took up my tray and headed back out to the dining room, my heart fluttering in my chest. I didn't need Lily's bullshit right now. I had other things to worry about.

  I dropped off the drink refills, checked on my other tables, then headed up front. Eight o'clock on a Monday, the lobby was empty except for Brittany, standing behind the host stand, talking and flirting openly with him.

  Damn...he looked even better than the first time I had seen him. He wore faded designer jeans that seemed molded to his muscular legs without being too tight, and a black blazer over a pale yellow button-down shirt. The manly aroma of his cologne seemed to snake out toward me, touching me in all my erogenous zones at once. His short silver hair was combed back, with a little Superman curl on his forehead.

  "Oh," said Brittany, looking disappointed as she saw me. "Here she is."

  Troy turned toward me, smiling in that suave, confident way of his. His dark eyes caught the light of the tiki-style lamps that flanked the front doors of the lobby. I couldn't help but be aroused in his presence, especially considering that he was soon to be my first real lover.

  "Hello again, Allie," he said, his eyes settling on my own. "I just happened to be in the area, and decided to stop in."

  I couldn't tear my eyes from his. "Brittany," I said, "I think one of the managers was looking for you."

  "Oh, really? Well, they usually just buzz me up here—"

  "Brittany."

  "Oh...rrright. Um, think I'll go see what they want," Brittany said, and stepped away. Troy gave me an amused look.

  "What do you want?" I asked him.

  His confidence didn't waver in the slightest. "I'd think that would be obvious, Allie," he said. "After all, I did have the winning bid."

  I blushed, jerking my head away and looking down at the floor. "T-tonight?" I asked, blinking profusely. "I-I'm not ready."

  Troy chuckled again and stepped closer. He slipped a finger under my chin, tilting my head back up. I was so docile before him. "No, not tonight," he said. "It's too late for all the preparations."

  I frowned, swallowing nervously. "What 'preparations?'" I asked.

  "Have you forgotten?" he asked, and reached into his jacket. He pulled out a slip of paper, unfolded it. It was an Internet printout from the bulletin board Sean had set up. "'One dozen fresh red roses, a bottle of champagne, limousine ride, semi-formal dinner, hotel suite, candles and soft music.' That's quite a list of stipulations, Allie."

  I was held captive by his eyes. "I just want it to be special," I said.

  He smiled warmly. "It will be," he said. "When is your next day off?"

  I breathed in, more than aware of the moistness between my legs. "Th-Thursday," I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

  Troy graced my chin again with his fingers. "Thursday it is, then," he said. "Be ready for me."

  I trembled with desire. "I am," I said, then blushed again. "I mean, I-I will."

  Troy bent, bringing his face closer, soft lips parting. I whimpered in anticipation of that first kiss. I moaned passionately into his mouth, sucking tenderly on his lips as he did the same. He didn't force his tongue into my mouth; it was more like a gentle probing, a tasting. My body shook and my pussy spasmed. I shuddered quietly as a soft orgasm rolled through me, rubbing my body against his. Troy held me close, kissing my neck and ears as my aftershocks faded.
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br />   "I'll see you Thursday," he said, stepping away and opening the door.

  "Yeah," I responded, heavy-eyed and breathless. I squirmed on my feet. My panties were heavy with wetness, sticking to my pussy and riding between the cheeks of my ass. I watched Troy leave, staring after him like a worshipper as the king departed the temple.

  "Damn."

  I turned around to see Lily leaning on the host stand, an impressed smile on her face.

  "I'm jealous," she said.

  I gritted my teeth, looking away.

  "No, I'm serious," Lily continued, pushing away from the host stand and approaching me. "He's hot. Even for an older guy. Bet he makes you scream, huh?"

  I started to walk past her, then stopped and smirked. I looked over my shoulder at her. "I'll find out Thursday," I said, then continued into the dining room.

  "I want details!" she called after me.

  11

  That Thursday afternoon, after coming home from school, I was nervous. I was more than nervous. I felt fear, anticipation, anxiety and excitement, all at once. I took a shower, wanting to be as clean as possible, but my libido wouldn't let me rest without release, so I masturbated in front of my vanity mirror, madly rubbing my clit until I spurted onto the sink. Then I took another shower.

  I tried on various outfits. I wanted to be classy but still a little slutty, and to that end, finally decided on a sheer black dress that hugged my curves and showed off my cleavage. I contemplated going without panties, but decided that would be too slutty. Going braless would be enough.

  I found a black silk thong to complement my dress, then rolled up some thigh-high stockings and slipped on my best black heels. God bless Marcus for his taste in shoes, I thought. I piled my hair up atop my head in a loose bun, securing it in place with chopsticks. Light makeup, red lipstick, soft lavender eyeshadow, and I was ready. The final touch was a little spritz of perfume on my neck, wrists, and the backs of my knees.

  I stared in the mirror, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out. Tonight, Allie, you're going to become a woman.

  The knock at the door startled me. I gathered my composure, wobbled on my four-inch heels to the door. I wasn't used to walking in the things. I checked my little black purse to make sure I had everything I needed: mints, cigarettes, lighter, perfume, compact, lipstick, wet wipes, keys...check.

  I opened the door, expecting Troy. Instead, it was Carlos.

  Carlos, from so many months before, the man whose cock was the first I had ever sucked. He wore a tuxedo and a black chauffeur's hat. His eyes bulged in recognition.

  I slowly smiled, feeling a strange sort of sexy confidence. "Hey, baby," I said. "Are you my ride?"

  Carlos blinked. "Um...u-uh, yeah," he stammered. His eyes dipped, taking in my thick legs. He dragged his gaze slowly up my body and smiled. "I'm your driver for the evening. Mr. Holloway sent me to pick you up."

  I smiled, meeting his gaze boldly. "Lead the way," I said.

  Carlos smirked and headed down the walk from my apartment, toward a long, black limo with dark-tinted windows. He opened the door for me, looking me over.

  "Don't get any ideas," I said warningly.

  Carlos forced his smile away. "I'd never think of it, ma'am."

  * * *

  The privacy window between the front and back lowered once the car started moving. I sat facing the front, and could see Carlos's eyes in the rear-view mirror. He kept checking out my legs, and I suspected he was trying to look up my short skirt. I was glad I had decided to wear panties.

  "I, uh, I was told this is a special occasion," Carlos said.

  I smiled. Oh, the irony! The first man I had ever tasted was now taking me to be with the man who would take my virginity. In a strange way, it was appropriate. If not for Carlos, after all, I would not be in the position I was now.

  "It's a very special occasion," I confirmed.

  Carlos nodded. "Um...anniversary? Birthday?"

  I smiled coyly. "Something like that."

  Carlos was quiet a moment, his eyes darting back to me now and then as he drove. Finally, he let out a nervous laugh. "Damn, baby, you are hot," he said at last. "I mean, smokin' hot!"

  "Keep your eyes on the road, Carlos," I said.

  He sighed, and drove in silence for a while.

  "Why did you pick me?" I asked at last.

  He looked to me in the mirror. "Huh?"

  "That day, in the mall," I said. "You and your friend were waiting for me. Why me?"

  Carlos looked uncomfortable. "Hey, we was just messing around," he said. "If you'da said no, we woulda let you go."

  "That wasn't the impression I got."

  We stopped at a light. Carlos turned in his seat and looked at me directly. "I ain't never raped no one," he said. "And I never will. Maybe you got that feeling, and if you did, then I apologize. But you gotta admit, once it came down to it, you liked it."

  I laughed softly. "Of course I liked it," I said. "Hell, I've been doing it ever since."

  Carlos's face registered surprise. He stared at me for a long moment, until a car horn blared behind us.

  "Light's green," I said.

  Carlos cursed, turned back around, and floored the accelerator. We were both silent for a while as he took the highway toward downtown.

  "What you mean by that?" he asked. "What you mean by 'I've been doing it ever since?'"

  I hesitated a moment, wondering if I should reveal just what, exactly, Carlos had opened my eyes to. I decided that, even if he never intended to influence me the way he did, he deserved to know.

  "Before I met you," I told him. "I had never even seen a man naked before, much less touched...or blown one."

  "You serious?"

  I nodded. "That day, when you dragged me in the men's room and shoved your dick in my mouth," I said, using the rudest words I could think of, "I hated you. You were a crude, selfish piece of shit."

  He frowned in the mirror. "Hey, hey—"

  "Shut up," I said firmly, and smiled again. But it was the smile of a woman with the upper hand. "I hated you, Carlos, and I always will. But you know what's funny?"

  "What's that?" he asked carefully.

  I grinned. "I love you for doing it."

  He frowned again. "Huh?"

  "You have no idea what you started, do you, when you took me into that stall, when you made me taste a dick—and cum—for the first time. You don't have the slightest fucking idea, do you?"

  "Bitch, you talkin' crazy—"

  I glared. "Call me a 'bitch' again and you'll be hobbling home on broken ankles," I said seriously. "Don't fuck with me, Carlos. My man knows a lot of people." I didn't know if that was true, of course, but Carlos did not have to know that.

  Carlos fell silent, glancing to me in the mirror, his eyes fierce and proud...but ultimately impotent. "Look...I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "Is that what you wanna hear?"

  I couldn't help but laugh. "I really don't wanna hear anything from you," I said. "I just want you to know that, what you did that day...it changed my life forever, and brought me to where I am now. I guess, in a way, I will always be grateful to you. Even if you are a rude piece of shit."

  Carlos said nothing, insulted and confused and dumbfounded by my words. He kept looking back to me, but his lips remained pursed until he pulled the limo up before one of the downtown hotels. Above the classic art deco awning was a red banner advertising the steakhouse in the lobby.

  "We're here," said Carlos simply, and he stepped out of the limo. I watched him through the dark tinted windows as he walked around to my door. He pulled it open and offered his hand, helping me to my feet. In my heels, I was just a little taller than him.

  "Thank you, Carlos," I said.

  He didn't look at me. "Ask for Mr. Holloway inside," he said. "The Maitre'D is expecting you."

  I touched his face. Despite everything, he was a handsome guy. "Thanks, Carlos," I said, then headed up towa
rd the doors of the restaurant.

  * * *

  I was nervous again as the doorman showed me inside and introduced me to the Maitre'D. The middle-aged man at the front counter gave me an approving look and smile and lead me through the dimly-lit restaurant toward the back. We passed a crackling fireplace which sent the sweet aroma of mesquite through the air.

  The other tables were occupied mainly with couples, the majority middle aged, and I felt eyes upon me as I walked. I was out of place, and it was obvious. A pretty young blonde girl in a JC Penny dress, surrounded by age, Armani and Gucci.

  But my heart flipped when I saw Troy sitting in the rounded booth, watching my approach. He looked the ultimate continental gentleman in his dark jacket, white shirt, and long white scarf, a snifter of brandy before him, a cigarette smoldering in a glass ashtray.

  "Mr. Holloway, Madame," the Maitre'D said, and retreated.

  I stared at Troy for a long moment, quivering on my feet. "Tell me this is only what I think it is," I said.

  Troy cocked his head, frowning. "What do you mean?"

  "This is only about us, right?" I asked. "This doesn't have anything to do with you wanting to take over Sean's company."

  Troy smiled, looking amused. "No, it doesn't have anything to do with that," he said. "Although, I do have to thank a couple of his employees for letting me in on this little secret."

  I looked down, feeling ashamed again, the wash of Catholic guilt surging over me. Once again, I was just a naughty little girl.

  "Have a seat, Allie," Troy said, patting the booth beside him. "Come sit next to me."

  Meekly, I did so, sliding across the cool seat, inching closer to him. I inhaled his manly scent once more. It sent little shocks through my body that gravitated quickly toward my clit. I was as aroused by Troy as I was intimidated.

  "Now, tell me," he said, "Why would such a beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself want to offer her virginity to the highest bidder?"