Strictly Research (Bad Boy MFM Romance)

by Terry Towers

  He laughed, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “No one is listening.”

  “You don’t know that,” I hissed, my voice lowered. “Isn’t there such a thing as professional confidentiality?”

  “I didn’t tell a soul.” He raised his hand up making the scouts sign. “Scout’s honor.”

  My eyes narrowed at him. “Were you really a scout?”

  “Nope.”

  We stared at each other for over a minute, him amused and me slowly warming until a smile spread across my lips as well.

  “I’m a little disappointed, if I can be honest with you,” he said, breaking the silence.

  “Disappointed in what?”

  “Welcome,” a waitress interrupted us, “I’m Gabby. Could I start you two with something to drink, wine maybe?” she asked, passing us both a single page lunch menu.

  Wine! Dear god yes, I could seriously use a glass. The single glass of beer at the brewery was hardly enough alcohol to be sitting in front of Mitch discussing the status and health of my cooch. “Yes! Please.” Cringing at the eagerness in my voice, I looked back down at the menu in my hand and then at the one that doubled as a placemat.

  “Just water for me, love.” I watched Mitch give her a smile which made her giggle and blush lightly, but I couldn’t help but notice that his smile wasn’t as wide or as genuine as it was when he smiled at me. Or maybe it was simply wishful thinking in combination with my imagination. “And tuna salad sandwich,” he handed the menu back to her.

  Shit, he already ordered, and now there were two sets of eyes on me as I scanned the menu in hand. A BLT sandwich caught my eye, and I promptly told the waitress, handing my menu back. The waitress thanked us, spun and walked off.

  Feeling his eyes on me, I slowly shifted my attention back to him. He was grinning again.

  “What? What’s so amusing?”

  “You’re adorable when you’re flustered and embarrassed.”

  “I am—”

  Reaching across the table, he took my hands in his, and damn his hands were soft for a man—soft, but firm, holding mine and the simple contact both helped to calm me, while exciting me at the same time. “I said it was cute. It was a compliment, Monica.”

  “Sorry. Thank you.” Letting out a sigh of relief, attempting to calm my stirring emotions.

  “And like I was saying, I was a little disappointed last night.”

  I hadn’t thought I could get any more embarrassed. I’d been wrong. I just catapulted beyond embarrassed and straight into being completely mortified. He was disappointed in our encounter? Who in the fuck says shit like that? Especially a professional! Maybe it hadn’t been my ex all along, maybe I sucked in the sack. My eyes widened at the realization. How many other men felt the same way? Did I leave a string of disappointed men in my wake?

  “Fuck no.” Reaching across the table, Mitchell took my hands in his. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “How do you know what I think you meant?”

  He laughed. “Because you look completely horrified right now.”

  “Because I am!”

  Shaking his head his laughter subsided. “I meant that I was disappointed that I had to share you.”

  I released the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding up until that point. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. What in the hell was I supposed to say to that? So I snapped my mouth shut and said nothing, deciding to focus on the petals of the fake plant sitting between us, rubbing the silky leaves between my fingertips.

  “I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable.” He reached across the table and touched my hand. A rush of excitement raced through me. Him. Me. Xander. Me sandwiched between the two male gods. Hell, it was getting hot in here. I tugged at the neck of my t-shirt. Was I having a hot flash? Shit no, I was way too young for hot flashes.

  “I, umm.” That was the best I had.

  “I’m such an ass sometimes. I open my mouth without thinking.” He began to stand. “Maybe I should just…”

  “No!” Quickly standing, knocking the chair out behind me, I grabbed at his forearm, finally finding my voice. “Don’t go. I mean…” I shrugged, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the trembling inside of me. “Please, stay, if you want to.”

  Our gazes locked again. His grey eyes seemed to pierce into me, penetrating deep, straight into my soul. Dammit, what was wrong with me? One night, and I was lusting like a teenager.

  “All right.” He slowly lowered himself back into his chair. “I just don’t want you feeling uncomfortable.”

  “I’m not.” I lied through my teeth, sitting back down as he resumed his spot across from me. But the only thing worse than being there remembering the previous night each time our knuckles brushed would be to see him walk out the restaurant door and out of my life. There was so much I wanted to know about the man sitting across from me. How did he get into the business? Was he some sort of sex addict, or was he maybe in dire financial straits? And Xander. What was his story? I needed to know. I needed to know almost as much as I needed my next breath.

  Chapter 5

  Mitch

  I work in a world where the ideal female body is more or less required, and beauty is just a stone’s throw away, I know how much women desire me. Not because they know me and want to further explore who I am, but because they like what they see, and they love how I make them feel when I fuck them. I know it sounds arrogant, but it’s not, it’s a simple truth. It’s a truth I’ve known about and used to my advantage since I was a teenager.

  Despite seeing naked women and being with different women nightly, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Monica. She had a wholesome beauty, if that makes any sense. Despite her occupation, she was the type of girl you proudly presented to your mother when things got serious, if you had a mother to show her off to, that is. There was no vanity in her, and there didn’t seem to be any insincerity. And despite the fact she wrote smut or erotic romance or whatever it was that women called it these days, she had an immense amount of naivety within her—that in itself was rare to find in someone doing what I do.

  It was refreshing. She was refreshing. Maybe I was jumping the gun and being presumptuous, thinking she’d want to spend her lunch with me. Though as we received our food and began eating, she slowly began to relax, and the conversation began to flow more freely, much like it had during the tail end of our flight and again the previous night at the club.

  As we finished up our lunch, I did know one thing—I wasn’t about to let her walk out of my life yet. Sure, nothing could ever come of our being together, but what was wrong with making a new friend? Yeah, I know it sounds as lame to me as I’m sure it does to you.

  “So what do you have planned next?” I asked, pushing my empty plate to the side and settling my gaze on her.

  She shrugged. “Not sure. Maybe go back to the hotel and work.”

  “Love.” She lightly flushed when I used the endearing term love, I liked seeing it, “You’re in Amsterdam. You just arrived yesterday. Your first trip to Europe and you’re going to spend it in a hotel room…working?”

  Monica laughed. Her laugh was like music to my ears, her smile lighting up her face and brightening her eyes. “I have to work.”

  “You can take a little time off for vacation, Monica, surely you can do that.”

  She gave me a little shrug. “Okay then, what would you suggest?”

  “Hmm.” Sitting back in the wooden chair, I scratched at the day old scruff on my chin in contemplation, I preferred a clean-shaven look, but chicks seemed favour the slightly rugged faces, so I attempted to maintain that appearance. There were so many tourist things to do in the city. Tons. I figured I’d be safe to presume that she hadn’t seen any of it as of yet, aside from the Heineken brewery.

  “You like wax museums?”

  “We have one in New York. Madame Tussaud’s.”

  “So you’ve been there?”

  “Nope. I try to avoid the tourist stuff in Ne
w York.” She cocked her head to the side and gave me a sheepish grin. “Isn’t it funny how people living in cities with tons of tourist things rarely do any of the fun tourist sights and activities the city offers.”

  “I’ve done and seen everything this city has to offer, and numerous others in Europe.”

  “Like?”

  “Paris, London, and Barcelona.”

  Her smile turned saucy, and she visibly relaxed, “I bet you have. Experienced a lot too, I assume.”

  I paused a moment not sure if I should play along with her or not. “Within reason. Even I have morals.”

  “So, can I ask you something?” she asked, chewing at her lip. I wondered if she kept pulling her lower lip between her teeth purposely to draw my attention to her mouth or was it a nervous habit.

  The waitress showed up before I could answer, taking our plates and asking if we wanted any dessert; we both declined. She placed our bills on the table, and I snatched up both before Monica could. Sure, this wasn’t a date, but I was still a gentleman, despite what people might say in regards to my choice of profession.

  “Mitch, you don’t have to—”

  “I want to.” Pulling my wallet from the back pocket of my jeans, I pulled out my Visa card and passed it along with the two bills to the waitress. Having lunch with her now was making me feel rather guilty for taking her money last night. But a job was a job. I didn’t know her then.

  Five minutes later, Monica and I were exiting the café and making our way towards the wax museum.

  “So, about that question…” Monica stated, not looking at me but scanning our surroundings, stopping periodically when something caught her interest. It was amusing, watching her.

  “What question?”

  “The one I was about to ask you before the waitress interrupted.”

  “All right. Hit me with it.”

  She looked over at me and grimaced. “It’s kinda personal.”

  “I’m an open book,” I winked at her attempting to lighten the mood, since it seemed whatever she had on her mind had some weight to it, “in all ways.”

  It worked, and she laughed and her face flushed an alluring rosy glow. “Okay. So. Are there really enough women looking for paid sex? How busy are you?”

  I cocked a brow up at her, a smile forming on my lips. “What? You writing a book?” I said it only halfway joking; I could picture our time together making its way into a novel of hers, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

  “Just curious.”

  “You came looking.” I was being difficult, I know this, but it was so much fun seeing her squirm, attempting to be diplomatic. Not to mention, I was rather uncomfortable with the full truth of what I did.

  “Yeah, but that was research.”

  “Uh-huh, yeah.”

  Her eyes widened as she shook her head. “No, I’m serious. Research. I really wanted to make sure what I was writing was accurate. You know, and maybe experiment with some stuff.”

  “So, you’re not done with me yet?” The idea really appealed to me. I wanted to see and feel her naked body again, loving the thought of seeing her flush as I made her come. “Or are you trading me in for someone new?”

  “Oh god! No, no.” Her face flushed. “Of course not, I just want you.”

  “Really?” I needed to end her torment. But dammit seeing her squirm was just too fucking much fun. I’m such an asshole. Not to mention it sidetracked her, so I didn’t have to dive deeper into my career. Some parts of my job I was less proud of than others.

  “Well, I mean.” She huffed and thrust a hand into her long, dark hair. “And Xander.”

  “Of course.” I can’t say I was overly pleased that she was interested in my sharing again, but that was what she’d come here for.

  “You never answered my question.”

  “Which was?”

  “Are there really enough women needing your services?”

  “This isn’t the type of job that you can pick and choose clients, Monica.”

  She stopped in mid-stride and turned to face me, her brow creasing. “Which means?”

  “I have both female and male clients.”

  “So, you’re bi?”

  “No.” Oh fuck, this was awkward. Not many people would understand how this worked. Normally, I wasn’t insecure about things, my occupation included, but for some reason, I found this very awkward, my smug and confident demeanor wavering.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “There wouldn’t be enough cash if we catered to only female clients, so we cater to men as well.”

  “So you’re not attracted to men?”

  “Fuck, no.”

  She began looking about as uncomfortable as I felt, shifting from foot to foot, and unfortunately it wasn’t enough to deter her from finding out what she wanted to know. “Then how can you… You know, if you’re not attracted to them.”

  “Viagra.”

  “Viagra?” She cocked a brow up at me.

  I had to laugh. The look of confusion on her face was priceless. “How else would I be able to get it up if I’m not attracted to men?”

  She chewed at her lip, drawing my eyes to her lush mouth that had just a hint of gloss on it. I would love to see her on her knees with those lips wrapped around my cock. The thought sent a surge through me that put my manhood on alert. No need for Viagra with her, not at all.

  “I suppose… So what do you do with men?”

  I shrugged and began walking again hoping she’d just drop it. It had taken a long time for me to be able to take on male clients. It had been a gradual thing, and I still wasn’t completely comfortable with it, but I faked it well. It was my least favourite part of the job.

  “So have you and Xander...?” she asked catching up to me. All of the reservation she seemed to have about asking me such personal questions seemed to have disappeared as her curiosity seemingly took over.

  With a sigh, I looked down at her, my stride not breaking. “Xander and I don’t fuck, unless we’re paid for it. Some male clients like to be fucked, some just like sucking our cock, and other men just like watching two good-looking men fuck each other. We’re full service. Whether we like it or not is irrelevant. The only thing I refuse to do is suck someone else’s dick, don’t ask me why, I just can’t get myself to overcome that aversion.”

  “So could a female pay to see you two…”

  I pasted a cocky grin on my face raising a brow at her. “You want to see me and Xander fucking and not be involved?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise of my question. Good, I was back in control. I relaxed a little bit. “N-n-no. I was just…”

  “Curious?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Some female clients like to see that, but it’s very rare.”

  “Oh.”

  “And we usually attempt to get the female involved so we don’t have to spend too much time dude on dude. It really isn’t my thing, and it’s not Xander’s either, though he seems to be able to accept doing it more than I have. I suck it up because I need the money, and it’s the fastest way for me to get the cash I need to start the life I want. I could grind it out until I’m too old to achieve what I want, or I can grit my teeth and do what I’m good at and get paid more in one night than I’d make in a several weeks—fuck, sometimes a month—at a regular job.”

  Madame Tussaud’s came into view.

  “How long have you been doing it?”

  I chuckled. “What? Fucking?”

  She rolled her eyes and gave me a jab in the shoulder. “Fucking for money.”

  “A couple years. I have about a year left.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then my real life begins, love.”

  She cocked a brow up at me. “Real life?”

  “Real life.”

  “And what are you considering real life?”

  I winked at her. “Can’t tell you all of my secrets straight away, can I?”

  She groaned out lou
d as she rolled her eyes at me.

  Chapter 6

  Monica