What the Heart Desires

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What the Heart Desires Page 20

by Jaime Derelle


  She snuck a peek at her naked, curvy frame in the mirror but quickly looked away. After two years of taking her clothes off in front of strangers and eventually fucking them and she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with her naked body. There were times when she felt like she was still that chubby nerd with glasses and a shy, nervous smile that used to sit in the corner of the Cornview high school public library, munching various sorts of sugary treats with a novel spread on her waist. She had certainly come a long way since those afternoons that she spent reading and immersed in her own world, oblivious to the world around her. But she wondered just how much had really changed since those times. To do this job of escorting, she constantly had to pretend, to play make-believe and there was no question that it was beginning to take its toll on her.

  Chapter 6

  A few hours later Cara woke up in the sweat and cum stained bed. She could feel the wetness beneath her. Usually, that feeling would have crept her out and sent her leaping out of the bed and towards the bathroom. But at that moment, as she lay next to Bradley’s beautifully sculpted naked form, she had no desire to run. She would have preferred to stay in that bed yet she knew that wouldn’t be possible. Eventually, she would have to go back into the world alone. Bradley would soon go back to his maniacal schedule of working more than 100 hours a week when he probably could have lounged around in his pajamas all day and lived the rest of his life supported by his stock options, real estate investments, and a 100 million inheritance that he hadn’t yet touched. He was set for life, always had been, but for some reason, he had always had a restless spirit.

  Cara leaned over and kissed his hard, muscular shoulder several times. She had no desire to wake him up. She simply wanted to show her appreciation for his beautifully sculpted masculine form. His body was so much stronger and more powerful than Danny’s long, lanky frame. She was about to continue further comparing the two of them when her phone began ringing. At first, she froze and the sound seemed to ring out in the room. Instinctively, she shifted her eyes toward Bradley’s sleeping body. He was face down snoring lightly. She gently slid out of bed and tiptoed to her phone. With each step she took closer to the phone she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Her feet moved silently across the thick carpet but her body was wracked by nervousness and apprehension the whole time. Part of the deal had been that she would turn her phone off during he 72 hours that she spent with him. She was not supposed to be receiving any calls.

  She couldn't imagine being without her phone that long. When she looked at the name on the screen, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. It was him. It was Danny calling. She took a few deep breaths and hesitated before answering the phone.

  She finally picked it up.

  "How are you, Danny?" She said.

  "I'm great, baby," he said. "So fucking great. I can't wait to see you."

  Why did he have to come back into her life now? She was on the verge of finally gaining some freedom, quitting this dead end career and getting on with her life.

  “I'm up on 59 at Park Kaczynski's diner. You got to get down here and meet me ASAP,” Danny said.

  “Why tonight?” She asked, trying to fight back the tears.

  “I just got a Master Mechanic’s gig out in California. I start it two days. This is our chance to start over. We’ll get it right this time.”

  For the next 20 minutes, Danny whispered all the things in her ear that she wanted to hear, the things that she’d been waiting to hear from a man for so long. Her mind swirled with doubts.

  She hurried into the bathroom to shower and change. Twenty minutes later she walked out of the hotel room wearing black stilettoes, a pink mini skirt and a tight top that showed off her abundant cleavage. As she walked across 59th street, she could feel her legs wobbling beneath her. It was her jangled nerves, not the heels that made it hard for her to walk. He would be expecting a final decision from her. No, that wasn’t quite right she said to herself with a wry smile. There was only one thing that he was expecting and that was for her to dutifully obey whatever he told her to do. But for once she wasn’t willing to accept that demeaning arrangement.

  Cara walked into the diner and immediately saw Danny in a booth, sipping what appeared to be a cup of coffee. When she got within a few feet of Danny, she quickly picked up on the surprise in his eyes. Within seconds, that surprise slowly turned to anger.

  “Where the hell are your bags?” He said.

  Cara lowered her head and swallowed hard. There was so much that she wanted to say, so much that she’d been holding within her for far too long. After a few moments of tense silence, she finally raised her head and looked Danny directly in the eyes. His knitted brow and narrowed eyes made her quiver. But she quickly regained her composure. She was not going to back down to him. She’d already spent enough time doing that.

  Once again she could feel her legs trembling beneath her. She had no choice but to sit down in the booth across the table. She put her hands on the table. They were only a few inches away from Danny’s. Terrified, she hastily pulled them back and took them out of view.

  "Danny, I’m not going to be able to go with you," she just barely managed to say.

  Danny stared back across the table at her with a bewildered, shocked expression. He’d been so certain that all he would have to do was swing back into town, start whispering sweet somethings in her ear, and she would fall back into his arms, love drunk and hungry for more of what he had to offer like he she did all those many times before.

  "What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?"

  Cara looked around the diner, only two other tables in the spacious back alley burger and pastrami joint were occupied. That was a good thing because Danny had said those words loud and angry enough to attract the attention of diners if the place had been more crowded.

  She leaned across the table and stared at him with a pleading look in her eyes. She was in the middle of serving the best client she’d ever had in her career. And if everything worked out all right he would end up being her last client.

  “You really think that you’re going to do this shit forever?” He asked snickering with disdain. “How long until you think these guys are going to get sick of you? How long before the agency realizes that you’re just a washed-up whore?”

  Without thinking about what she was doing, Cara cocked her arm back and slapped Danny hard on the cheek.

  “AHHHH!” He screeched in pain.

  The few people in the diner looked at them, but particularly at her, with horror. But she didn’t turn away from their contemptuous stares.

  "You must be out of your fucking mind," Danny said.

  His face turned red and he glared at her. It wasn’t the first time that she’d seen that look. Not by a long shot. And that’s why she knew that she had to get the hell out of that diner before Danny tried to do something crazy. He’d once tried to kill a guy who’d sucker-punched him during a bar fight. He’d also given the dude’s girlfriend a pretty good ass whooping as well.

  His furious eyes scanned the diner. He slid out of the booth and rose to his feet. He swiveled his head around again and when he thought the coast was clear, he approached Cara. Her entire body trembled with fear. She wanted to scream but her tongue felt like it was stuck in her throat. She wanted to throw up but she couldn't even manage that.

  Danny towered over her with a sadistic grin. He cocked his arm back and prepared to strike her with all of his force. While she waited for the blows to begin raining down and pummeling her, Cara's only recourse was to cover her head and hope that Danny ran out of energy before he did any real damage to her.

  "What the fuck? Let go of me." It was Danny’s voice.

  Cara had no idea what was going on. She slowly opened her eyes. Her mouth gaped opened in shock. She couldn’t believe what she saw in front of her. Bradley was wrestling Danny to the ground. It wasn’t that much of a struggle, though. Bradley had a massive size and strength advantage and he was quickl
y able to subdue the would-be abuser.

  The restaurant manager, a pudgy slick haired Mexican, wobbled to the scene of the takedown with a cellphone pressed to his ear.

  "The police are on their way," he said.

  There was a look of fear in Danny’s eyes. He realized the trouble that he might have gotten himself into. He began to kick and squirm and curse, desperately trying to free himself but it was no use. Bradley had him firmly pinned to the ground. As she looked at the two of them, Cara couldn’t help experiencing a wild, contradicting, swirl of emotions. There was no telling what would happen if the police showed up and started question. With him, there was always a chance that he had a warrant out for him.

  “Please, Cara, baby. Don’t just stand there watching. Help me!”

  Cara took a hesitant step towards Danny’s pinned body. Bradley raised his head and flashed angry eyes at her. That stopped her cold. There was something so chilling and dominant in the way that he’d just looked at her. That intensity both scared and excited her. As she stood there staring at him, she could feel her face flush red and her pussy beginning to get wet. What an incredible feeling!

  "Cara, I can’t get arrested. I won't be able to make it back out to California if I end up in jail."

  "You know this bum?" Bradley asked.

  Contempt and disdain were etched firmly in his brow. He seemed to find it offensive that he had to come into contact with someone so far beneath his station in life.

  The sound of police sirens in the distance snapped Cara back to the present moment. A decision had to be made. There was no more time to waste.

  "Let him go,” she yelled.

  Bradley stared at her with a confused expression. There was no time for her to repeat herself. The sirens were coming closer and closer. She pushed Bradley off of Danny, who didn’t need any help quickly springing back to his feet. He grabbed his backpack from the floor and set off towards the exit. Before he made it to the door, he whipped his head around and stared directly at Cara. His lips quivered and he seemed to be fighting the urge to say something, desperately trying to keep his cool, not knowing where his anger would lead him. He eventually turned his back on Cara and Bradley and rushed out of the diner.

  "You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" Bradley asked.

  A half an hour later they were back in the hotel room. Cara couldn’t help checking the timer in the corner of the room that was counting down the 72 hours. Up until that point, she’d had little desire to check that clock. She’d been swept away in a maelstrom of emotions and she’d nearly forgotten what this whole weekend was about. With all the drama with Bradley, she’d forgotten about the 100K that she was to receive if she were able to withstand the full 72 hours with Bradley. So far so good. And there were only around 15 hours left and she would be free.

  Bradley popped open a bottle of champagne. Cara’s eyes fixed on the label. Before she came to New York City, she wouldn’t have been able to tell one champagne bottle from the next. When she really thought about it, she couldn’t remember ever seeing a champagne bottle before she began escorting with high-level clientele who were quick to lavish on her whatever they thought she desired.

  "Is that Arnaud de Brignac?" Cara asked.

  After he had finished pouring both glasses, Bradley looked up and smiled at her.

  "I’m impressed," he said. "I wouldn’t have guessed that you were such a connoisseur. Most of my friends and acquaintances have never heard of this vintage."

  Cara smiled seductively and let her tongue slowly slide across her lips. "I would never have guessed that you were an MMA style fighter," she said.

  He handed her the glass and cocked his head to the side. "Every now and then I have to come to the rescue of helpless women."

  "Helpless?" Cara said sharply. "Is that what you think I am?"

  "Things didn’t look so good for you in that diner. That guy, whoever he was, and I hope that you won’t make me wait much longer before you tell me, looked like he was about to hit you pretty hard."

  Champagne glass in hand, legs crossed seductively as she perched on the edge of the bed, Cara let her eyes rove up and down Bradley's gorgeous body. They stopped and lingered right in the area of his crotch. She remembered how big and hard and full his dick had felt hours before when she’d taken into her hungry mouth, licked up and down the shaft, tongue swirling around the mushroom head. Without thinking about it, she reached down and touched in between her legs. She knew that her panties were already soaking wet. She couldn’t wait to feel his cock pounding away inside her. She couldn’t wait to feel his firm hands gripping her ass as he thrust and grunted and pushed his cock deep, oh so deep inside of her.

  Cara could feel her mouth watering and her swollen pussy dampening. Every fiber of her body called out for him. The sexual tension was driving her wild. She wanted nothing more than for him to pick her up in his strong powerful arms and throw her down on the bed. She wanted to be ravished by his strength and power, his burning desire to possess her flesh. She needed that and she wasn’t going to be able to wait for it much longer.

  But out of nowhere a strange thought popped into her mind, something that she hadn’t even thought about until that moment.

  "Bradley, did you follow me to the diner?" She asked.

  Before answering, he threw his head back and took a long, slow sip. When he pulled the glass away from his mouth, he still had his eyes closed. The cool, crisp taste of the elite bottle of champagne warmed his entire body, distracting him momentarily from the question that Cara had just asked him. He didn’t quite know how to tell her that yes, he had in fact been following her. Twinges of guilt pricked at his heart but that didn’t mean that he wanted to admit to having done anything wrong.

  He raised his eyes and smirked at her.

  “I’m paying a lot of money to spend this entire weekend with you. I think that I have a right to know where you’re going.”

  "You’re paying me so you have a right to spy on me?" She asked.

  While she waited for an answer, she sauntered toward the champagne bottle. She picked it up and poured herself another glass. She leaned her head back and quickly downed it. She knew that wasn’t the way to drink expensive champagne but at that moment, she didn’t give a fuck.

  "Maybe you’re not the connoisseur that I took you for," Bradley said.

  Cara stared at him with fire in her eyes. She was through with talking. She was desperate to feel him inside her, piston pumping her dripping wet pussy. She wanted to feel her own juices spilling out of her and down her thighs--his huge cock stretching all of her walls and pushing deeper than any man ever had.

  There was no need for her to say anything. Bradley had no problem picking up the lusty heat that her body was emitting. He licked his lips and smiled—a big cat about to get the little pussy. He couldn’t wait to throw her on her back spread her legs, kiss up and down her thighs, leading up to that magical moment when his tongue would touch her swollen, aching labia and begin licking and stroking them from side to side, while her entire body writhed with pleasure.

  Goddamn, this girl was making him so fucking hard. He reached down and grabbed his dick through the denim. It was rock hard. Rock fucking hard.

  Cara’s rabid fingers went straight for his belt buckle. While she worked on freeing his cock and beginning once again to worship it, he quickly raised his shirt over his head, exposing his beautifully sculpted chest. Moments later he felt his jeans sliding down his legs and settling at his ankles. He wanted to step out of them but Cara wouldn’t give him a chance. She'd gone straight for his big cock the moment that she’d seen it bouncing up and down in front of her face.

  "It’s so fucking beautiful," she said, running her fingers up the thick, hard, veiny shaft.

  She’d never known that a cock could be so hard and full. She wanted so bad to stroke her clit while she satisfied Bradley but she decided that it would be better to wait. For the meantime she had to give him all her atte
ntion, she would worship at the divine altar that was his beautiful cock.

  "Your mouth feels so fucking good," Bradley said as he ran his hands through her hair and stared at her lovingly.

  Chapter 7

  Two days later when Cara checked her online banking account, all she could do was stare in silence at her six-figure balance. What had she really done to deserve that money? She remembered working much harder for more than a handful of clients and only receiving a few hundred dollars for all her exertions. Something about this guy just didn’t make sense. He had no Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram accounts, at least, that’s what he’d said. Cara found it hard to believe that he didn’t have at least one ghost account that he operated under a false name. Or maybe Bradley was the false name. That would have made things even weirder but it wasn’t likely because Bradley Jennings was the name on the credit card.

  She sighed in frustration. But then she was forced to confront how selfish and petty she was being. She was one hundred thousand times richer yet the last thing that she felt like doing was going out and selfishly spending the money on herself. People in her family, especially her mother, were always in need of a bit of financial help. Ever since her father had suffered a stroke that completely paralyzed the left side of his body, the bills had been piling up. There was less and less money coming because he was no longer capable of handling a big rig.

  There was no question that Cara’s mother would be ecstatic to receive some money from her but she might also become suspicious that her daughter had stumbled into enough good fortune that she could suddenly spare to send a few thousand dollars home. She wasn’t the type of woman to accept that sort of money without first asking a few questions. Thinking about being interrogated by her mother made Cara sick with nervousness. She hated to get into arguments with her mother, especially over the phone because they wouldn’t be able to hug each other and makeup after the dust had settled and they’d both returned to their senses.

 

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