Double Dipped: The Lunchtime Chronicles

by Brooklyn Knight

Candy’s body is teetering on the brink of release. I’m still a few good pumps away from my own, but for some reason, it’s the last thing I’m worrying about.

  “Oh Trigg,” she wails, nails digging in my back.

  Fuck it hurts, just the way I like for it to.

  “Come hard, Sweetness,” I coax her. “Come all over this fucking cock.”

  Like a good girl, she does; and then she falls back into a sound sleep.

  Candy

  Shit.

  The sound of my phone alarm buzzing is what wakes me up, which means it’s time for me to be on my way. I don’t do this often – only with one or two regulars, and only with them because I know them. I trust them. This cowboy is new, but with the way he fucked me sore, he might end up replacing one of the guys I normally deal with, especially if he’s gonna’ be throwing money at me the way he did tonight. I need the money…

  But I’m lying to myself if I act like that’s the only reason I jumped into the sack with him. The minute I realized he was Rancher007, something went off in my head.

  And my heart.

  We’d developed a strong connection that had started weeks ago, online. I’d heard Madame Elektra talking about some college friend, named Mandy, and a website she’d started. Madame had been pissed because apparently, Mandy wanted to put up her profile. Well, she bitched about it for days on end, but with the way she was talking about it, it had only served to pique my curiosity.

  I’ve been through… a lot, and I’m trying to get away from the past. Anything that might serve as a distraction from my dismal reality, is welcome; so, I’d created a profile, hoping to get a ping.

  And Rancher007 – Trigger – responded.

  It started off relatively slow, but it wasn’t long before the frequency and intensity of our communication increased. Trigger would message me through the website chat feature during work to check on me, then at night, we’d message back and forth, sometimes until the sun was rising. He’d mentioned coming to see me in Atlanta but had never said a specific time.

  Now here he is… And damn, he’s all that and a few bags of chips. I had no idea he’d come to Golden Girlz looking for me. In fact, meeting up at Golden Girlz was the last place I would have wanted to see him. Now, he was a client and the fact that I’d fucked him in a car, in the parking lot – and then in a hotel room – pretty much put him in the category of any other Joe Blow I’d met.

  But he was so sensual and tender…

  Damn, I really fucked up on this one. It doesn’t matter though.

  The buzzing continues. I’d set the alarm for three o’clock. If I move quietly, I can call and Uber and be on my way before he wakes up. Maybe I’ll leave him a note, telling him I had a good time and I’m glad we got to meet. He’s a regular client now, but it wasn’t supposed to be that way. He deserves something special.

  The suite is in near-darkness as I search blindly for my phone, wherever the hell I put it when we fumbled our way into the room. When I finally grab it on the nightstand next to the bed, my mouth dries up. It’s not three o’clock: it’s five-thirty and the sun is inching its way into the sky, which would explain the ethereal glow seeping into the room, through the windows.

  I clasp my hand over my mouth to erase a shocked shriek and then still.

  The cowboy is still next to me. He’s naked and glorious. His long hair is splayed all over his face, cascading down to broad, muscular shoulders.

  Trigger draws in a sharp breath, like he’s sensed my motion, and the minute he settles, I take the opportunity to slip out of the bed. When my feet are on the ground, I start searching for my stilettos. Only God knew where they were. I’d been so eager to taste him, for him to taste me, there’d been little to no thought of neatly depositing articles of clothing upon our arrival.

  Finally, I spot the glisten of the silver heels across the room and pause for a second, before dashing in their direction. Then, just as quickly, I grip my dress and shove my head through the neck.

  “How much do I owe you?”

  Trigger’s groggy voice makes me freeze on the spot, but when I turn to look, he’s still lying down on the bed, eyes closed. His long lashes are forming into half-moons on his face.

  Clearly, he’s awake.

  Clearly, he doesn’t want me to leave.

  I moisten my lips and continue to dress. “Haven’t you spent enough tonight?” I ask, trying to joke my way through the anxiety tangling itself around my throat. “You have to have spent a thousand dollars on my services.”

  Now he sits up and I dare to look, mouth loose, as the covers slide off his body.

  Fucking chiseled like the Rock of Gibraltar.

  “You ain’t my accountant, Sweetness,” he informs me. “You don’t keep my damn books.” He was groggy but firm. “You’re leavin’, which means my balance is at zero.”

  I adjust the material over my heavy breasts. They want his mouth again.

  Before I can say anything, Trigger is out of the bed and striding over to where I’m standing like a horny deer in headlights, unable to move, even if I want to.

  When he reaches, he stares at me in the dim lighting, searching my face. His light brown eyes slice through mine. “How much? To get more of your time?”

  I square my shoulders. “How long you tryna’ hang out?”

  “For three days,” he answers promptly. “I gotta’ fly back to Bisbee by Wednesday to handle my… chores, but if I’m gonna’ stay here, I wanna’ be here with you. So…” he raises his hand to my face and drags his finger over my bottom lip. There’s nothing I can do to stop from sucking it onto my tongue.

  Trigger growls. “Fuck,” he mutters.

  “For what we’re doing, I charge two hundred dollars an hour,” I inform him, throat thick with lust. “Twenty-four hours at three days is – ”

  “Fourteen thousand, four hundred dollars,” he cuts me off in a rasp. “I’ll transfer it into your account before breakfast.”

  Oh!

  “So, like I said…” He doesn’t even finish the thought. His dick is raised to attention and he slides my dress up around my waist. Trigger lifts me and I wrap my legs around him, settling onto his masculine thickness. My legs tremble at the sudden feel of his hard length stretching my aching walls was like a panacea.

  God, he feels amazing!

  The man has me bouncing on his dick like I’m in a rodeo. In a matter of seconds, I’m cumming, and then he kisses my mouth with a passion that shocks me to the core.

  “Take these clothes off, darlin’,” he demands against my lips, when I regain control of my body. “Come back to bed.”

  My jaw tightens. Bossy, controlling men and I didn’t usually set – but Trigger…

  He eases me off his jutting cock and waits for me to undress. When I’m fully nude, he draws me closer to him and kisses me again. The passion, the desire is enough to incinerate me; then he carries me to the bed, settles me on the mattress and slides in next to me. We return to a strangely peaceful sleep.

  * * *

  When I wake up again, it’s not the buzzing of my alarm that’s done it. It’s the tray of delectables being carted through the door, emitting aromas that have my mouth watering like I haven’t eaten in years. I peel my eyes open and rub them, then I throw my arm to the side of the bed, not surprised to find the space empty.

  When I’m fully stirred, I sit up, shocked to find a butler setting up a table for two. I have no idea what time it is, so I’m unsure if it’s breakfast or lunch under those silver platters, but it smells delicious. I also wonder where Trigger is, but when I see steam snaking from under the bathroom door, I get a clue.

  “Good morning, Madame. Brunch for you and the gentleman.” The butler is entirely professional, even though he’s getting a good eyeful of my bare breasts. As if sensing something untoward, the bathroom door pushes open and Trigger saunters out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

  Good Lord. If milk doesn’t do a body good, I don’t know what does
. He’s a specimen in the dark but in broad daylight… His long hair is wet, hanging down his back. I’d never seriously considered dating a man with hair longer than mine, but I can’t wait to get my fingers into it.

  “You can leave those items right there,” he barks out glaring at the butler.

  “Of course, sir.” Immediately, he abandons the utensils and I don’t blame him. Trigger looks like his name, and the hell if he doesn’t deliver the most toe-curling death sentence.

  My nipples pebble.

  I watch the butler back out of the room, but not before assuring us that he’s at our beck and call. I turn my eyes to the cowboy standing in front of me. “You scared him,” I say, amused.

  “Good,” he drawls out. “He ain’t payin’ for your time, which means he don’t get to see your goodies.”

  I laugh. The sound seems to soften the rugged man as he flips his damp hair over his head and approaches me on the bed.

  I’m so ready for him. I reach up, he reaches down, and we meet in the middle with a sensual kiss. His hand finds my breast and he kneads it.

  I sigh into his mouth.

  The towel slides over his hips and his dick manifests through the part in the towel.

  “Good afternoon, Sweetness,” he whispers, dragging his mouth to my neck. My entire body arches. “You slept well, it seems.”

  “Good afternoon, Cowboy,” I respond. “Yes, I did – after you summoned me back between these sheets, I had no choice.” My eyes drop to his ready member. “You didn’t cum last night, did you?”

  “I didn’t,” he confirms, feathering a delicious range of hard and soft kisses down the length of my throat.

  I writhe under his tender touch. “Should I… service you now or later? Or both?” Eager, I reach down to stroke his body, but when he pulls away from me, my brows draw in. “You’re paying a lot of money for this,” I remind him, as if he doesn’t know. “I’m trying to make sure you get your money’s worth.”

  “You’re right about one thing. I don’t think I’ve ever doled out this much cash for the company of a woman at one time in my entire life,” he says with a smile, “but… maybe we jumped the gun.”

  Oh… so he’s reconsidering? Hmph. Maybe I should have clued him in to my refund-policy and that fact that there are no refunds. I pull away from him and grab the sheets to cover my nakedness, but Trigger pulls them out of my hand.

  “I didn’t mean like that, Sweetness,” he says, lowering his gaze, and then he pauses, like something is on his mind. “How ‘bout we just eat and enjoy one another’s company? I’ve ordered something special.”

  “Right,” I agree, “because three days will come and go in a flash and then it’s back to real life.”

  “Real life?”

  “Me at Golden Girlz and you doing whatever it is you do in Arizona.”

  He stiffens.

  “What do you do, anyway, Trigg?”

  Trigger’s face hardens and I can’t help but think we both have sore spots; but I’m a complete hypocrite because even though I don’t want him anywhere near my no-go zone, I’m curious about the nature of his.

  “I work for myself,” he answers. Something about the way he says it doesn’t settle with me.

  “You run a ranch?”

  “Cliché, but yeah,” he answers, scratching his jaw. “I got my own ranch, but I also manage one of the biggest in Bisbee with my boy, Colton Wright. It’s a monster task. We’re responsible for a lot of the meat, produce and dairy in our city and a few of the surrounding ones, too. Colt is the head honcho, but I’m his right-hand. We’ve got over sixty staff, and to say there’s a lot to do, would be trivializing it.”

  It sounds interesting.

  “You ever been to Arizona, Sweetness?”

  “I used to travel a lot, but now I try and keep a low profile,” I reply carefully.

  “Did… something happen?”

  I draw in a sharp breath. “No,” I say, then I toss my gaze to the trays. “What treats you got for me?”

  Trigger eyes me before heading for the food. The towel dips low about his waist, exposing long legs, which are riddled with ripples of muscle. His ass is taut, but it flexes with each of his movements. He reaches the dishes and removes the silver cover, then, he brings a tray with two plates to the bed. When he removes the plate cover, vibrant strawberries and fondue greet me. It’s nowhere near a balanced meal, and I doubt it’ll satisfy my physical hunger, but another hunger is rearing its head.

  Trigger takes one of the strawberries and rolls its tip in the thick chocolate. Then, he advances it towards my parted lips.

  “So, I’m supposed to survive off strawberries and chocolate for three days, huh?”

  He laughs. “There’s more than strawberries,” he assures me, “but I wanna’ start with dessert first.” He pauses. “I’mma take care of you,” he murmurs.

  His words hit me hard.

  I part my lips and allow him to put the fruit on my tongue. A burst of juice erupts in my mouth and I moan.

  “Hmm… So, I’m not the only one who can make that sound come out of you,” he comments, wiping the edge of my mouth with his thumb.

  “Well, now you see that you’re not,” I inform him. “Strawberries dipped in chocolate has a similar effect as a stiff dick.”

  He throws his head back and laughs. “I’m not sure how I feel about that,” he finally says. “I’m a jealous motherfucker. When I’m on stage, I like for the spotlight to be on me and me alone.”

  We fall into a sweet silence and then I push the plate to the side.

  The rest is history.

  And it continues like this for three entire days. I call Madame Elektra and let her know that I’ll be working out of the office for the next seventy-two hours. At first, she has a lot to say, but when I refer her to my bank account, where Trigg has already transferred a shit-ton of money, her protests dry up.

  A little.

  Trigg takes me shopping and dining. He treats me like I’m more than a stripper or some girl he met on a dating website. He’s treating me like a queen – like I’m the girl he’s been dreaming of his entire life. Daylight hours find us in the theater and high-end retail stores, but at night, we’re tangled in Ritz Carlton sheets and I’m moaning his name over and over. He assaults my body in the sweetest way, and the more time I spend in this cowboy’s presence, the more my trepidation withers away.

  The night before Day Three finds us both in a different space. Trigg is quiet and tense and I’m preparing my mind to return to reality.

  It’s three thirty in the morning. We’ve just finished two rounds of mind-blowing sex, and Trigger has his arm wound around my body, holding me close. He’s staring at the ceiling.

  There are a million things I want to say, but only one is appropriate in this situation. “I’ve had fun,” I whisper into the darkness.

  “Why you speakin’ the past tense?”

  “Because… it’s over,” I answer. “Tomorrow makes three days. I need to get back to Golden Girlz and you have to go back to Arizona.” My response makes sense. At least to me it does, but Trigger doesn’t seem to agree.

  He flips onto his side, peering at me in the dimness with his hazel eyes. “So, here’s the thing,” he starts to say. “I don’t want this to be the end of our time together. I got more money and I’m willin’ to pay for your time, but that’s not what I’m talkin’ about either.” He pauses and I wait for him to continue. “I didn’t walk up in Golden Girlz lookin’ for a stripper, Candy. I walked in there lookin’ for you – the gal I saw on the N2U dating website. The gal who engaged me through private chats for hours on end.”

  My eyes flutter. “You’re on some modern-day, Pretty Woman bullshit, then?”

  He laughs. “If that’s how you wanna’ think about it, so be it,” he asserts. “But it’s more than that too.” Trigger draws a breath. “I know who you are…”

  I stiffen under his embrace. “What do you mean, you know who I am?”

/>   “I… know what you did,” he explains, “or what they say you did.”

  His words force me out of his arms and the bed in one swift move. As if on cue, he reaches for me and grabs me, but I rip myself out of his hold.

  “Candy, wait. You gotta’ let me finish.”

  “Actually, I don’t,” I snap. I flick on the nightstand light and instantly start searching for my clothes. Everything I had on, he’d bought for me, right down to the lace boy shorts and bra – but I don’t want those. I want the shit that I brought with me.

  “You tricked me,” I mutter grabbing the dress I wore three days ago from the clean laundry. “You’re a liar and a manipulator. I have no idea what you think you know about me, but you’ve got me all kindsa’ wrong!”

  Trigger springs from the bed and takes my arm again. This time, his grip is tight and there’s no way I’m getting out of it.

  I snatch a nervous breath and try to be brave.

  His hair is disheveled and falling over his face, but it does nothing to reduce the burning glare of his eyes as he stares at me. “I’m none of the things you just accused me of bein’,” he whisper-shouts. “Now, you’re gonna’ listen to everything I have to say, or I promise you, you won’t be goin’ nowhere.”

  “Really?” I challenge him, lifting my chin. “Who’s gonna’ stop me from leaving?”

  Like a magician, he whips out a laminated card and holds it up in my face. When my eyes focus on the words, my throat almost closes up.

  “You’re… a cop?”

  “I’m not a cop. I’m a bounty hunter.”

  “A bounty…” I choke.

  “Let me explain, Sweetness,” he whispers as his expression softens.

  The way he calls me that, it weakens my every defense and makes me want to yield to him; but there’s no room for the warm and fuzzies right now. Trigger isn’t who he said he is and that’s unforgiveable.

  “Explain what?” I shriek. “That you’re here to arrest me? To take me to jail?” I summon strength from somewhere deep inside and jerk away from him. Now, I’m stepping into my dress and shoving my feet into my stilettos. It’s three forty-five in the morning, but I don’t give a damn. The last place I’m staying is in this fancy hotel room with this slick-tongued… thick-dicked… lying-ass cowboy, who’s just revealed that all he was ever here to do was seduce me into handcuffs; metal ones, not the ones with the fluff we used last night.