by Cassia Leo
Drew took one look at me in my bra and panties and scurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him. “I’m so sorry, Miss Jacobs!” he shouted through the door. “I was just bringing your new Italian cell phone. I’m so sorry!”
I quickly slipped on my nightgown and opened the door. “It’s all right,” I said, as Drew stared at his feet. “It’s no big deal. I’m an actress, remember? I’m used to taking my clothes off in front of strangers in dressing rooms.”
He smiled, but he still refused to look at me as he held out a shiny silver iPhone. “Here you go, ma’am.”
I sighed as I took the phone from his hand. “Please call me Larissa. And please don’t let things get awkward. I’m already freaking out about all this as it is.”
He raised his head slowly and looked me in the eye. “Yes, m—I mean, Larissa. I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
I placed the phone on the nightstand before I tucked myself in under the silky sheets and tried to shut off my mind. But images kept flashing behind my eyelids, clips of my relationship with Chase. The satisfied smile on Chase’s face as he made me come on our first “date” then dropped me off at my apartment without allowing me to return the favor. The first time I tasted him. The day he brought a jeweler to my hotel room so I could pick out an engagement ring; then, of course, yesterday when he finally proposed. I wanted him here right now, inside me, putting his mouth on me.
I pulled up my nightgown and slipped my hand inside my panties. I writhed against the cool sheets as I imagined Chase’s tongue exploring me.
“Ah….” I flipped onto my belly as I massaged my clit slowly at first then rapidly, as I remembered my last encounter with Chase in my hotel room. “Oh, my god!” I screamed, and a knock at the door startled me. “Who is it?” I shouted, as I turned onto my back and pulled the covers up to my chin.
The thick doors muffled the soft plea in Drew’s voice. I leaped out of bed and raced to the door, my crotch still throbbing with my fantasies of Chase.
I opened the door and Drew stood there, eyebrows raised in concern. “Is everything all right? I heard you scream.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, as a maid walked past us toward the staircase.
“I’m sorry, but I was given strict orders to make sure you didn’t attempt to… leave. And it sounded like you were struggling with something in there.”
Yeah, struggling to stop thinking about Chase’s hands on me.
“You thought I was trying to escape? From where, the balcony?”
Drew took in my incredulous impression and smiled. “I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t take any chances.”
“Fine. You’re welcome to watch me from the chair if that will ease your paranoia. I’m going to sleep.”
I strode back to the bed and climbed inside as Drew took a seat on the chaise. “I’ll just sit over here,” he muttered awkwardly. “You just feel free… to go right to sleep.”
I pulled the fluffy down comforter up to my waist and leaned my head on my hand. “Do I make you nervous?”
He chuckled as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “A little, yeah. Your fiancé practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t take good care of you.”
“Chase? He threatened you? What did he say?”
“He said if I didn’t keep you safe or if I lost you, it would be more than just my job on the line.”
“Oh.”
“Not a big deal. I’m used to high stakes jobs. Go to sleep. Once you’re out, I’ll call Michael in here to watch over you so I can get some sleep, too.”
I turned over to face the window where the sun was just beginning to set. My first Italian sunset viewed from a cold bed with a Secret Service agent breathing down my neck. Not my idea of a romantic European getaway. I closed my eyes and tried not to obsess over the script running through my head. My eyeballs burned with exhaustion, but my mind refused to shut down. I nearly jumped for joy when my new Italian iPhone rang.
I snatched it off the nightstand and saw the call was coming in as “Unknown.” I glanced at Drew and he nodded.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Larissa.” Chase’s voice was rich and soothing like a warm cup of cocoa. “Have you arrived at the villa?”
I couldn’t hide my grin. “I just climbed into bed,” I replied, and Drew took this as his cue to slip out of the bedroom and into the corridor. “I miss you.”
“I can’t tell you how much I wish I was there with you right now, watching the sunset with you, holding you in my arms, making love to you. What are you wearing?”
“Nothing,” I said, as I turned on the speakerphone so I could tear off my nightgown.
“Good. Lay on your back and spread your legs.”
I squirmed and kicked my panties off then spread my legs.
“Don’t touch yourself yet,” he continued. “Right now, I just want you to use your imagination.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart racing as I resisted the urge.
“I’m kissing your ear in that sensitive spot that makes you crazy.”
“Mmm…”
“My hand is on your breast. I’m squeezing your nipple as I kiss your neck. Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Your nipple is in my mouth and it tastes so sweet. You’re making me so hard. I can’t get enough of your taste.”
I squirmed against the mattress. “I want you inside me. Please let me touch myself.”
“Not yet. Arch your back for me so I can kiss your belly, baby, that spot just below your belly button.” His voice sent shivers over my entire body. “Your skin is so warm and soft.”
“Oh, Chase.”
“My mouth is moving down… down… now my mouth is on you; your clit is hard, pink, and ready for me. Touch it.”
My fingers glided through my wetness as I stroked myself.
“I’m licking and gently sucking. You’re so wet. Mmm…you taste so fucking delicious.”
“Turn onto your back,” I said, pulling my hand away before I climaxed. “I want your cock in my mouth.”
“Okay, but I want your tight little rosebud in my face so I can eat it up.”
I turned onto my belly and pushed up onto my knees. “Your cock is so hard and so beautiful,” I breathed. “I’m licking the tip. Oh, you taste amazing. So slippery and sweet.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Take it all the way into your mouth, baby.”
I moaned as my body began to spasm. “Pound it into my throat, Chase. Faster!” I massaged my clit vigorously as I bucked against the mattress. “Come in my mouth.”
A deep groan vibrated the phone on the nightstand as my body quaked with an earth shattering orgasm. Chase’s breath was amplified through the speaker; and suddenly, I realized that Drew probably heard our whole conversation.
“That was so fucking good,” Chase said, as I touched the icon to take him off speakerphone.
“When are you coming?” I asked, as I pulled the comforter over me again.
“I believe I just came.”
“You know what I mean,” I replied. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay here with no one to talk to.”
“I’ll be there in no more than five days. The election is the day after tomorrow, then, if I win, I’ll need a couple of days for interviews and meetings before I can sneak out of here. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t mentioned it, but I suddenly felt as if the fate of our relationship hung on tomorrow’s interview. If I did well, Chase could win the election and I might see him in five days. If I didn’t do well, he could lose and I might get to see him sooner and, possibly, start planning our wedding.
“Larissa? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. Just going over my lines for tomorrow.”
“Honey, it’s okay to be nervous. You’re a great actress, but I don’t want you to approach this as you would an acting job. I want people to se
e the real you. That’s the Larissa they’ll believe.”
“You sound like my acting coach.”
“Guess who I saw today?”
I paused for a moment as I tried to think of someone. “Your wife?”
“Very funny. I saw your mother.”
“My mom? How did you see my mom?”
“Well, obviously, since the story broke yesterday there have been a thousand news vans parked outside your parents’ home. They interviewed her briefly on Fox News.”
“Great! Now she really hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, Larissa. She’s your mother. You should call her to let her know you’re okay.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to her about us.”
“You don’t have to tell her the details of our relationship to let her know you’re all right. Promise me you’ll give her a call.”
I could feel my face twisting into a sneer. “I’ll try… after the interview. I’m too exhausted right now.”
“Are you going to be okay tonight?”
“I’ll be fine, but… will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”
“Of course. Good night, princess.”
The softness in his voice made my heart rise into my throat. I put the phone next to my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. I tried not to think about my prospective conversation with my mother and whether Drew was outside, listening to every sound I had made in the last twenty minutes.
“The very thought of you.” Chase’s voice came softly through the speaker as he sang me to sleep. I smiled as I listened, catching just a few lines before I drifted off.
Chapter 2
Michael woke me at three in the morning to get ready for the interview, which would be recorded via Skype at five o’clock Italy time, or ten o’clock New York time. It would not be a live interview. This was the one stipulation Gideon refused to budge on when negotiating the terms. I didn’t know if I liked this. A lot of editing could be done after the fact to make me look like more of a harlot than I already appeared to be.
Sometimes I wished I had never taken my roommate’s offer to help me get a job at Black Tie Escorts. I might never have met Chase, but I also wouldn’t have millions of people thinking of me as the filthy whore who seduced Chase Underwood, Pretty Woman style; and I certainly wouldn’t be receiving death threats. No one cared, or probably even knew, that Chase was my first client at the escort service or that we didn’t even have sex on our first “date.”
Drew escorted me to the library where a laptop had been set up to record the interview. With so much on the line, you’d think they’d have sent a production crew out here to do my makeup and set up the lighting and professional cameras to make everything look perfect. Maybe they wanted me to look cheap?
I sat in an armchair next to an ornately carved desk as Michael pointed the laptop’s webcam at me. My skin looked a bit yellow in the glow of the lamplights, but I supposed it was better than looking washed out by the daylight. I glanced at Michael as he scooted between the desk and me so he could connect me to the production assistant in New York. Once the connection was made, he stepped aside and I found a bewildered guy with a pointed chin and absurdly long nostrils staring back at me through the screen.
“Miss Jacobs, can you hear and see me?” he said in a feminine voice.
“Yes, can you hear and see me?”
“I gotcha. I’m Daniel, by the way,” he said, as his eyes turned downward to look at something on the anchor desk, possibly Diane Sawyer’s notes. He looked up again, seeming even more bewildered. “Oh, shit. I don’t have Simon’s notes.”
“Who’s Simon?” I asked, as my stomach gurgled with hunger and anxiety. I hadn’t eaten since before yesterday’s flight.
“Simon is our field producer. Shit! Where are those notes?”
“Is this going to affect the interview?”
“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! This is definitely going to affect the interview. Shit, shit, shit! I am so fired.”
“Calm down, Daniel,” I said, as he scoured the surface of the anchor desk. “What kind of notes are you looking for?”
Please don’t find the notes. Please call off the interview.
“Oh! Here they are!” he shrieked, and the tiny laptop speakers crackled as he held up a thin manila envelope. “That was close.”
“Yeah… that was close,” I muttered, trying not to look too disappointed.
“Okay, so I already went over the specifics with Gideon, but I’ll go over them with you now.”
He rambled on for more than twenty minutes about Diane’s interview style and how I should try not to fidget and a billion other tidbits on how to make the interview more compelling and visually appealing. Some of this stuff I had already learned in the many camera classes I’d taken. Some of it was just ridiculous, like making me change my ivory silk blouse because it looked too similar to Diane’s.
“Are you ready?” Daniel asked, and I nodded, too annoyed with him to even respond. “Great. We start rolling in twelve minutes. Sit tight.”
I sat back in the chair then immediately sat up again as I remembered Daniel’s advice on slouching. Then I sat back again as I realized I didn’t have to worry about any of that stuff for another twelve minutes. My leg bounced uncontrollably, a subconscious attempt to rid myself of all this nervous energy.
Drew entered the library and noticed the panicked expression on my face. “Just checking to make sure Mike set everything up,” Drew said. I nodded and he chuckled. “You’ll do fine. I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
He was just being polite, just trying to ease the alarming anxiety building inside me, but I was slightly annoyed by his interruption. I turned back to the laptop as he closed the door. I had to focus on the script. Not that I would forget my lines, but there was no guarantee Diane would ask any of the questions I was prepared to answer.
“Standby, Larissa.” Daniel’s voice blasted through the speakers, but all I could see was the empty anchor desk.
Diane appeared from the left side of the screen and settled into her seat at the desk. My heart pounded as I watched her and Daniel leafing through the notes while a hair stylist smoothed every shiny strand of hair on her head. My leg began bouncing again and I quickly sat up and centered my face in front of the camera.
Daniel and the hair girl stepped away and Diane cleared her throat before she looked into the camera, straight at me. “Can someone please bring me some water?” she asked, as she sat up straight then leaned forward slightly.
“Roll tape,” said an off-camera voice.
A hushed pause followed then came Diane’s soothing voice.
“We spoke with Larissa Jacobs today to give her a chance to clear the air surrounding the shocking accusations of her affair with presidential candidate and California Senator Chase Underwood. Larissa’s version of the scandal that has torn the presidential debate wide open just two days before Election Day may come as a surprise to those who read the version printed in the Los Angeles Times yesterday. Today, Larissa has agreed to a candid interview with no restrictions in hopes that the nation can move swiftly past these allegations before the coming election.”
“Cut.”
The version printed in the Los Angeles Times? You mean, the truth? I tried not to shake my head in dismay at the lies I was about to tell on national television.
It took nearly thirty minutes to setup the new camera angle, which displayed both Diane and the TV screen to her left where my frightened face suddenly appeared. I took a deep breath as I tried to adjust my expression and my posture to appear more confident.
“Roll tape.”
Diane took a moment to collect herself before she looked directly at my face on the screen. “Larissa, you have been accused of destroying Senator Chase Underwood’s chances at what had been dubbed a near certain presidential victory and possibly his entire career. The senator’s supporters have called you a whore. Conspiracy theories have cropped up about your
being a saboteur working for the Republican Party in an attempt to discredit the senator. Supporters of Underwood’s opponent, Vice President Heller, have called you a godsend. Do you think you have destroyed Senator Underwood’s presidential career?”
I took a beat, as Daniel instructed me to, before I answered. “No, Diane, I don’t believe I’ve destroyed the prospects of Senator Underwood’s presidential bid. I believe that neither the facts nor I have been accurately portrayed and, once the country knows what truly happened, Senator Underwood will be elected president on Tuesday.”
“Would you care to tell us what truly happened?”
This is it. Make it good, Larissa.
“Well, this all began with a somewhat foolish and desperate decision I made in August, while I was still living in Los Angeles. It was the end of the month and the rent was coming due on the apartment I shared with my roommate.” I paused so I wouldn’t sound like I was rambling nervously. “I had just been let go from my job as a children’s party entertainer and my roommate offered to get me a position with the escort service where he had been employed for three years.”
“And you accepted your roommate’s offer?”
“Foolishly, yes. My first day on the job was August 29th and that was the day I met Senator Underwood.”
“Are you saying Senator Underwood was your first client?”
If I were telling the truth, yes, that’s what I would say.
“No, Teddy Holt was my first and only client. Senator Underwood merely booked me to accompany Teddy to a black tie gala.”
Diane pretended to look confused by my response. “Are you saying Senator Underwood purchased you as a date for his campaign manager Theodore Holt?”
“Well, yes, initially the gala was going to be the end of it, but Teddy and I never actually went to the gala. We skipped out on the event and had the most amazing night on the cliffs of Malibu, where we fell in love.”
“That sounds like quite the fairy tale ending. However, I’m sure everyone would like to know… at any time, did you accept payment for sexual favors from either Senator Underwood or Teddy Holt?”