Cat Haus - the Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys)

by Cat Johnson, Carrie Lane

  Back at the Cat Haus I made men pay extra—a lot extra—if they didn't want to wear a condom. It's a rule, a state law actually, that we have to use condoms for everything including blowjobs, but men hate condoms and I guess I'm not much of a rule follower. So I've been known to make deals—more money, no condom. Most don't want to shell out more than the thousand or two I already took from them, so they don't push the issue. They roll on the latex and get busy. Others hand over their cash or credit card and get to ride bareback.

  I was on birth control so that wasn't an issue. And I was tested for STDs so often—weekly in fact—I knew I was clean. John didn't give me the vibe that he had casual, unprotected sex with any questionable partners. Feeling confident we'd be safe, I reached down, grabbed his ass and pulled him inside me uncovered.

  His face seemed a kaleidoscope of emotions the moment he filled me, sheer relief being chief among them. I could see he needed this. Hell, I needed this and I was in no way deprived sexually. As he thrust into me in this gorgeous room on these expensive sheets, it seemed so different from when I fucked at work. This felt, dare I say it, almost personal.

  Eye squeezed tight, John lifted my knees and pounded into me. I silently willed him to look at me, to know it was me he was with and not some woman from his past or present. That thought gave me my first clue I liked this guy and that was bad. Very bad.

  "Cate?" His speaking my name surprised me.

  "Yeah?"

  Balls deep inside me, he held still. "You'll stay 'til morning?"

  "Yes." Having another Pretty Woman moment, I waited for him to offer to buy me for the week.

  He nodded, and then went to town, thrusting into me like a man on death row and I had been his last request. Clenching his teeth, he came hard, almost violently. A full body orgasm that bowed his spine and made him visibly shake as if jolts of electricity shocked him. He groaned, long and loud before collapsing on top of me, his body twitching one more time with some unseen pulse.

  While John's body rocked with his effort to catch his breath, I was already wondering if I could encourage Gus to challenge him to a rematch.

  I must have tired him out. Without a word, he rolled off me after what had turned out to be one hell of a completion to our coupling, and he was snoring in seconds. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He fucked hard. He came hard. He slept hard. I suspected this man did everything he put his mind to that way.

  John didn't wake when I snuck out of bed to go clean up in one of the bathrooms. Yes, bathrooms, plural. I went exploring a bit while he slept and found a kitchen, another bathroom and a smaller bedroom, all before I went back to join him. He didn't wake when I crawled naked into bed next to him.

  I doubted I'd get what I'd hoped for—a paid week in this surreal paradise with him. Even so, it was nice being able to fall to sleep in the lap of luxury, pressed against the hard, warm body of the man I'd spent the night satisfying. At least I had the rest of tonight and the excuse that I had to make sure John got his money's worth so as not to embarrass Gus.

  CHAPTER 3

  A noise I couldn't identify in my groggy state woke me. When I opened my eyes I saw John standing in front of the bedroom dresser buttoning the cuff of his shirt. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

  I drew in a breath and pulled myself higher on the pillow. It was morning, judging by the light coming through the curtains. "No, it's fine."

  "I've ordered breakfast. It should be here any moment," he said.

  "Thank you." Good in bed and he fed me. I wished all johns were this nice—no pun intended.

  He faced the mirror and flipped up the collar of his shirt, looping a tie behind his neck. "Feel free to take a shower if you want. There's a robe in the bathroom you can use."

  "Thanks. I wouldn't mind borrowing the robe to wear during breakfast, but I actually showered last night after you fell asleep."

  A frown creased his forehead when he turned away from the mirror and toward me, his hands paused on the tie. "You got out of bed, showered, and came back, and I didn't wake up?"

  "Nope. You were out like a light. You even snored." I laughed at the expression on his face. "Don't worry about it. It was late and you'd had a bit of a workout. Remember?"

  "I realize that, but I never sleep so soundly."

  "Guess I'm as good as a sleeping pill." I shrugged and flipped back the sheets, swinging my feet to the carpeted floor.

  "I guess you are." His gaze tracked me as I padded nude across the room and to the bathroom. That gave me great satisfaction. He might be back in businessman mode, but I could still grab his attention.

  I had to pee, wash my face and put on that robe before breakfast, which was starting to sound very good as my stomach began to wake up along with the rest of me.

  By the time I emerged from the bathroom, swathed in an excessive amount of white terrycloth because the hotel issue robe was obviously sized for a man and not a woman, the breakfast was already set out on the table in the next room. Coffee, juice, sliced fruit, muffins, and croissants with a selection of jams and jellies covered the table.

  John lowered the newspaper in his hands when I came in. "Help yourself. I put in my breakfast order when I checked in, but if you wanted something else, I can call down."

  "No, this is fine." I grabbed a croissant. It was still warm, all soft and fresh. Sitting on the sofa, I folded my legs beneath me, tore off a flaky piece and popped it into my mouth as I eyed the man across from me.

  He glanced up from the newspaper and caught me watching him. "You look like you have something you want to say."

  I had about a hundred things I wanted to say or ask him, but I settled on one. "It's just when you asked if I'd stay the night, I figured it was because you'd want more from me. If not last night, then this morning."

  He raised one brow. "I didn't realize that was an option for this morning."

  I laughed. "Why not? I'm not a vampire. I can come out other than at night."

  "I meant, I won you from Gus for the night. Not for the next day, as well." His smile made him seem indulgent though not amused by my little joke.

  "Gus isn't here." I lifted one shoulder.

  Seconds ticked by as John watched me. Thinking, I suppose. The man thought so hard I could almost see it. He folded the newspaper and laid it on the table. "I have a conference call in one hour."

  "You're good, but I don't think you'll need a whole hour."

  "You'd be surprised." He stood and took the few steps to reach the sofa, undoing his belt along the way.

  "I like surprises." I put my uneaten breakfast down on the side table and stood too, untying the robe's belt. I let it slip off my arms, the weight of the cloth taking it all the way down to the floor.

  He surprised me when he spun me to face the sofa and bent me over with one palm planted firmly in the center of my back. In this position I could look down and see his black boots as he stepped closer behind me. I widened my stance and he wasted no time, plunging his cock into me with one hard stroke.

  This was nothing like last night. There's something on the menu at the Cat Haus called The Girlfriend Experience. It's when the guy wants the kind of sweet sex he'd get from a steady girlfriend. The kissing and caresses and snuggling in bed after. Last night with John had felt almost like that, the polar opposite of now when he pounded into me from behind like a man who wanted to fuck someone—anyone—just to get off and get on with his day.

  Though I suppose he did have to get on with his day. He did say he had a phone meeting. And as time moved on and John still plunged into me with no end in sight, I had to begin to wonder if he'd be finished in time.

  "I'm sorry. It takes me a while in the morning." He must have sensed my boredom. Or he'd seen me glance at the clock on the wall.

  I turned my head and tried to see him over my shoulder. "I can help you with that."

  "Can you?" He stopped pounding into me. "And how's that?"

  "I'll show you."

  "All right." T
he skepticism was clear as he pulled out of me and stepped back.

  "Take your pants and underwear off. You can leave the shirt and tie on."

  I wasn't sure he would, but he did as I asked. I leaned back on the couch and motioned for him to get on top of me.

  "The missionary position is going to make me come? This is seriously your solution?"

  "No. Just trust me. Do you?" I asked.

  "Trust you? Yes, I do." He laughed as if his own answer surprised him. Though I bet it wouldn't be as much of a surprise as what I was about to do.

  "Slide inside me."

  He rolled his eyes as if he had no faith in my ability, but he did as I asked, while I resisted the urge to smack him. As if sliding inside a hot, wet pussy was such a chore. Jeesh.

  I slipped my forefinger into my mouth and got it good and wet with saliva before I reached behind him. Spreading his cheeks, I began to circle his ass. He clenched, and he'd already been tighter than tight to begin with.

  "Relax."

  "Easy for you to say. It's not your ass."

  I shook my head at his foolishness. Some men were complete babies about anal penetration. John was afraid of one tiny fingertip, when I'd had far larger things than that in my ass. "I promise you, you'll like it."

  "And if I don't?"

  "I'll stop . . . and you won't get to come before your meeting."

  His breath left him with a sigh as he gave in. "All right. But be gentle."

  I laughed. "I will. Promise." Still, he didn't move, but remained braced above me, tense and waiting, like a blindfolded man in front of a firing squad. "It might help if you fucked me a little. You know, to take your mind off it."

  As if he'd forgotten what he was here for, he nodded. "You're right."

  He rocked into me, the movement small and slow. I took that opportunity to tease his hole just a bit, circling, getting him used to the feel of my touch. I breached him with just the very tip, but didn't push deeper. Not yet. He needed to learn to trust me, and shoving knuckle deep inside what I knew had to be a virgin ass wasn't the way to get him to loosen up.

  I pulsed against his tight ring of muscles, applying pressure but not penetrating him yet. I felt him relax enough he opened just a bit. I pressed slightly deeper and he drew in a shaky breath.

  "You all right?"

  He swallowed hard. "Yes."

  I was enjoying devirginizing my sexy businessman's ass. I'd bet good money that in an hour he'd be sitting on that conference call unable to listen to anything being said because he'd be reliving this moment, over and over in his head.

  "Just a little bit farther and I'll hit the perfect spot."

  "There's an end goal to this torture you're subjecting me to?"

  "Oh, yeah. And I’m going to say I told you so when I reach it and you come harder than you ever have in your life."

  "Doubtful."

  "Wait and see." With the challenge clear, I had renewed enthusiasm to prove him wrong. I forged ahead, pressing deeper. He moved away from the pressure until I had to reprimand him again. "Relax."

  He laughed, but it came out as a short nervous burst. "Yes, you keep saying that but . . . "

  I latched onto his earlobe and sucked it between my teeth. A tremor ran through him.

  "How about if I promise you can do the same thing to me as soon as I finish with you?"

  "That might help. A bit."

  "Okay, it's a deal. Now, relax," I repeated before I went back to working his earlobe with my mouth. I felt some of the tension leave him.

  I was only up to the first knuckle, and my hands are pretty small, so I was barely an inch in. I needed to be deeper to hit the spot that would make him a convert and have him begging the next girl he was with for a little ass play.

  "Almost there. Just a little . . . bit . . . farther." I pushed deeper as I spoke soothing words.

  The breath he released, tinged with a moan, told me I'd reached the spot. He held perfectly still, braced above me. His cock, hard inside me, filled me completely.

  This wasn't the best angle or position for this, but I tried to make do. I set a rhythm, press and release, over and over again, working the male equivalent of the G-spot.

  His breath quickened and he began to plunge into me again, his timing matching mine. Each downward stroke grew more intense than the last and was accompanied by a sound of pleasure as he lost himself in me again.

  "Oh, God. I think I'm going to come."

  I moaned against his ear. "Then come."

  A few more thrusts and one loud groan and he did. I felt his cock pulse, emptying inside me.

  Clearly done, he leaned heavily on me. His weight pressed me into the sofa, but I wasn't done with him yet. I'd taken too long to get inside his tight, scared little butt to leave yet. I continued to slowly, gently press into him with my finger.

  He drew in a sharp breath. "That should not feel good. Why does it?"

  Poor John sounded so miserable at the fact he was enjoying my finger in his ass I had to laugh at him. "You don't know?"

  "I'm not gay if that's what you're insinuating. I would think the number of times we've been together and all we've done since last night would prove that."

  I let out a snort. "Letting someone touch your ass does not make you gay. That wasn't what I was saying at all. I meant I'm surprised you didn’t know that the male prostate is very sensitive to stimulation and anal penetration is the easiest way to do that."

  "I didn't know. I apologize. You taught me something. I'm still finding it incredibly strange to be holding a serious conversation while your finger is inside me."

  "Your cock is still in me," I reminded him.

  "Yes, but that's different."

  "Why?"

  He laughed. "I don't know."

  I chalked this debate up as a win for me. "Do you want me to stop?"

  John hesitated, and finally said, "Not yet."

  I felt him beginning to grow again inside me. Apparently as much as he bitched about it, he was enjoying this. I smiled. "All right. How long before your call?"

  He groaned as I pressed just a bit deeper and his cock responded by lengthening. "I'm starting to not care."

  CHAPTER 4

  "You're back." Gus's statement of the obvious didn't require an answer since I was there at the Cat Haus right in front of him.

  Feeling generous, I indulged him with a response anyway. "I am."

  "About damn time." He screwed up his face, making his ruddy complexion and oversized red nose stand out more than usual.

  I wasn't about to take this kind of shit from him. Not after I'd done him a favor and for free no less. "You told me to stay if he asked and he asked. I didn't want to embarrass you."

  His scowl told me he didn't like his own words turned against him. "Fine. The debt is paid in full. Now get to work."

  I was dressed in a corset, thigh-high fishnet stockings and stripper heels, standing in the parlor with the rest of the girls waiting for the day's batch of fresh meat and their wallets to come through the door, so I didn't know what the fuck his problem was. "That's what I'm doing, Gus. That's why I'm standing here. To work."

  "Fine." He spun on the heel of his shoe that, now that I'd been with an impeccably dressed man like John, I realized could use a good shine. Though Gus probably couldn't see his feet over his belly, so what did he care?

  "Where were you last night?" Sahara whispered to me once Gus had left the room.

  "He sent me out on a house call."

  "Wow." Her eyes widened. "You make a ton of cash for that?"

  "Nah. Not really." I shrugged, not about to give any details about the arrangement Gus and I had made, and not because I was worried about Gus's privacy, either. My business was my own.

  These girls were my friends—in a way—but I tended to keep things close to the vest. Habit I'd gotten into years ago when I realized people would smile to your face until you left the room. Then they'd be the first to talk behind your back.

 
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice . . .

  "You're lucky you weren't around," Sahara continued in a lowered voice. "Gus was in a crap mood last night. He ended up throwing Tiffany out of his bedroom when she didn't blow him the right way."

  I smothered a smile, enjoying that information. Cutting Gus off from my company for the next two weeks had obviously pissed him off. I liked pissing Gus off. Guess I’m easily pleased.

  A guy walked through the door and ended our conversation as every girl stood a little taller. Tits out. Smiles on. Eyelids lowered just enough to make us look like we needed to fuck and he was the only man who would satisfy our needs.

  Showtime.

  We lined up and said our names in succession as his gaze moved from one girl to the next. Since I was near the end of the lineup, it gave me an opportunity to observe him before he got to me.

  This guy was big. Not big in the gut, like Gus, but big like he could comprise the entire defense for a pro football team all by himself. We got high profile clients all the time at the Cat Haus, so for all I knew he might be a pro ballplayer. If this guy was pulling down six mill a year, I'd definitely negotiate a higher price and not feel one bit of guilt.

  I really should keep up with sports more.

  He wasn't bad looking. Not at all. He was white but with skin that hinted at a bit of black or maybe Hispanic blood somewhere in his heritage. His dark hair was cropped short. High cheekbones set off piercing blue-green eyes some girls would kill to have as their own.

  There was a lull and I realized that while I had been distracted, they'd reached my turn in the lineup.

  "Hi, I'm Cate," I introduced myself and hoped no one noticed I hadn't been paying all that much attention while I sized up Mr. Big's wallet along with his bulk.

  Next to me, Sahara had just opened her mouth to say her name when our guest pinned me with his gaze and said, "I'll take you."

  "Me?" I asked.