by Sandi Lynn
The Millionaires of New York
Boxed Set 2
Sandi Lynn
Contents
The Millionaires of New York
Mission Statement
The Escort
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Epilogue
One Night In Paris
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Playing The Millionaire
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
The Negotiation
Mission Statement
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
The Donor
Prologue
Chapter 1
Books by Sandi Lynn
About the Author
The Millionaires of New York
Boxed Set 2
The Escort
One Night in Paris
Playing The Millionaire
The Negotiation
Mission Statement
Sandi Lynn Romance
Providing readers with romance novels that will whisk them away
to another world and from the daily grind of life – one book at a time.
The Escort
New York Times, USA Today & Wall Street Journal
Bestselling Author
Sandi Lynn
The Escort
Copyright © 2019 Sandi Lynn Romance, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by Shanoff Designs
Editing by BZ Hercules
Created with Vellum
Chapter 1
Brielle
I walked into the Warwick Hotel in my black stiletto heels and short black dress. My eyes were covered behind large round black sunglasses, which complemented my long dark wavy hair, and my lips, which were painted a cherry red. The lobby was quite busy this afternoon, and as I strolled up to the front desk, I was greeted pleasantly by Joseph, one of the clerks that had known me for the past five years.
“Good afternoon, Emmy.” He began typing away at his computer. “Should I just charge the card that’s on file?”
“Good afternoon, Joseph. Always.” I smiled.
“Your key, Madame.” He handed me the card. “Enjoy your stay.”
I gave him a small smile as I took the elevator up to the thirtieth floor, slid my key card, and opened the door to the room I considered my second home: room 3010. After throwing my purse on the bed, I set my bag down and went into the bathroom to check myself one last time before my client arrived. There was a light knock at the door, and when I opened it, a man who was in his mid-forties and stood approximately five foot eight with short black hair and a light mustache nervously stood there.
“Hi, I’m Emmy. You must be Lawrence.” I smiled.
“Nice to meet you, Emmy.”
“Come in and make yourself comfortable.” I gestured with my hand.
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nbsp; He stepped inside the room and looked around. His hands were fidgeting, and I could tell he was a nervous wreck.
“First time?” I asked to try and ease his nervousness.
“Yes.” He turned and looked at me.
“How about a drink?” I asked as I walked over to the mini-bar.
“Sure. Got any bourbon?”
“Of course.” I lightly smiled as I poured him a glass. “So, Lawrence, how do you like being a dentist?”
He answered my question and we made small talk. I always liked to have a conversation with my new clients first to ease into what was to come next. He sat on the edge of the bed while I slipped out of my dress. I could see the beads of sweat form on his forehead. I hoped to god this guy wasn’t going to have a heart attack on me. I knelt down between his legs and softly brushed my lips against his, testing the waters, so to speak. He paid extra for kissing, so I needed to be sure he really wanted it. His hands nervously roamed to my breasts, which were covered by a black lace push-up bra.
“You’re a very beautiful woman, Emmy.”
“And you’re a very sexy man, Lawrence,” I spoke as my fingers unbuckled his belt.
After undoing his pants, I slid my hand down the front of them and grabbed hold of his semi-hard cock, stroking it softly and feeling it harden in my hand. He let out a moan and then grabbed my hand and pushed it away.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can go through with this.”
I sighed as I stood up and then sat down next to him, placing my hand on his thigh.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on at home that drove you to contact me in the first place?”
“I love my wife. I really do. We’ve been married for fifteen years and haven’t had sex in over a year. She’s always tired, never feeling well, the kids drive her crazy, and we grew apart. I hate that it happened to us. We’re both so busy all the time between our jobs and the kids. Emmy, I’m starving for sex. A man can only take care of himself for so long. But despite all of our problems, I don’t think I can cheat on her. I thought I could come here, have a fun time with you, and go home. But the reality is, we haven’t done anything, and I already feel guilty.”
“Listen, Lawrence. I love that you love your wife, and you should. You have a beautiful family and so many wonderful memories. What you need to do is reignite your passion with her. Take her on a date. Get someone to watch the kids and go away for a long weekend. I can guarantee that if you make her a priority and forget everything else for a minute, the two of you will be having sex again. You two just need to rediscover what it’s like to be a couple in love. When was the last time you bought her flowers for absolutely no reason?”
“I don’t know. Years, I guess.”
“Then start there. When you leave here, stop at the florist, buy the prettiest flowers they have, take them home to her, and tell her how much you love her. Arrange for someone to watch the kids and take her to dinner. Don’t tell her about it. Just do it.”
He placed his hand on mine and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you, Emmy. I’m going to do just that. I’m sorry that I wasted your time.”
“You didn’t waste my time, Lawrence. Just remember that my fee is non-refundable.”
“I know.” He smiled as he stood up, reached into his wallet, and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. “I know I already paid, but here’s a little something extra for being so cool about all this.”
I took the money from his hand, stood up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you. You’re a good man, Lawrence, and your wife is very lucky to have you.”
After he left the hotel room, I changed into a pair of ripped jeans, a long-sleeved black shirt, and my black Converse. Grabbing my phone, I sent a text message to Ben.
“I’m leaving the hotel in about five minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting, Brielle.”
I grabbed my purse and my bag, put on my sunglasses, and walked out the door. Once I reached the lobby, I made my way to the front desk to check out.
“Let me guess, he couldn’t go through with it?” Joseph smirked.
“No. He couldn’t.” I smiled.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, Emmy.”
“You too, Joseph.”
I walked out the doors of the lobby and climbed into the back of the sedan.
“That was quick.” Ben smiled as he glanced back at me.
“He was feeling guilty. I sort of felt bad for the guy,” I said as I took off my wig and pulled my long blonde hair back in a ponytail and placed a black Nike cap on.
I removed my green-colored contacts and placed them in their case as well as my false eyelashes. Taking the makeup remover wipes from my bag, I cleansed my face.
“Where to? Home?” Ben asked.
“No. I want to go to the shooting range for a while.”
“You got it, boss.”
Ben Riley had been my driver and one of my best friends for the past four years. He was a handsome guy who stood six foot four, black hair that he kept in a buzz cut, and a full beard and mustache that he always kept neatly trimmed. We met in a coffee shop when our coffees got switched. He grabbed mine and I grabbed his. Luckily, neither one of us had left yet. We exchanged coffees and got to talking. It turned out he had just lost his job as a driver to an influential family in New York City and was on the hunt for one. It just so happened that I had been thinking about hiring someone to drive me to and from my jobs. It was a win/win for both of us. He was a part-time artist who loved to paint and sculpt things. Unfortunately, what he did wasn’t bringing in much money, so he depended on another part-time job to fill in the gap. It didn’t take too long for us to become friends. He was my confidant and I could talk to him about anything.
Ben pulled up to the curb of the shooting range and I climbed out of the car.
“I’ll only be about an hour,” I said.
“I’ll be waiting for you.” He smiled.
I walked inside and saw Jimmy standing behind the counter.
“Hey, Jimmy.”
“Hi, Brielle. Haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks.”
“Life, Jimmy. Life.” I smiled as he reached under the counter and handed me my box.
Taking my lane, I put on my protective glasses and my earmuffs. Ejecting the magazine from my 9mm Glock 43 Caliber, I loaded it with bullets, disengaged the safety lever, aligned my eye with the target, and began firing.
“Damn, Brielle,” Jimmy spoke. “God help anyone who pisses you off.”
I gave him a smile as I stared at the six bullet holes that were perfect shots. After practicing for about an hour with moving targets, I unloaded my gun, packed up, and headed home.
“Have a good day, Jimmy. I’ll see you next week.”
“Looking forward to it, Brielle.”
I’d been going to the shooting range to practice for the past five years. Being a twenty-seven-year-old woman alone in New York City and in my profession, I needed to protect myself. In case you haven’t already figured it out, I’m an escort. Not just any escort, but a self-employed high-end escort. The men who acquired my services were generally the wealthy ones. Doctors, lawyers, hedge fund managers, CEOs, dentists, etc. You get the picture. Ninety percent of my clients were married. The other ten percent were those who had no interest in dating a woman but needed sex.
Chapter 2
Brielle
When I was growing up, I never in a million years thought that I would become an escort. It wasn’t who I was. I was a bright and intelligent girl who got straight A’s throughout school, graduated as class valedictorian, scored the highest number on the SATs, and got a full ride scholarship to any college I wanted. I didn’t come from money. My mother was a single parent who worked two jobs, sometimes three, to try and make ends meet, and it still wasn’t enough. We lived in a tiny one-bedroom apartment where my mother slept on the couch.