by Blaire Drake
“And he doesn’t know that you know?”
At my nod, she continued.
“Have you tried asking him? Or hinting that you know, at the very least?”
“That seems too easy.”
“Well, then you sleep with a guy you know is in a relationship.”
“That also seems too easy.”
“Precisely.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and pointed at me with her mascara wand. “And that, my sweet friend, is why we don’t have real-life interactions with our clients. It’s also why we don’t have relationships with people outside of this secretive little world. It’s too…fucky-fucky.”
“Is fucky-fucky a technical term? Can I quote you on that?”
“Only in the context of a review.” She grinned while she brushed black over her lashes. “You know what I mean. That’s exactly why you and Jake never ended up together.”
I sighed once more. “I know. Is it bad that, sometimes, I wish I could go back and give him another answer?”
“No. I think all the time that I’d like to go back and go on that second date. Or not have an accidental threesome with another guy’s brother.”
Only Jenna.
“I think it’s natural. This job isn’t for the fainthearted, and we all knew that when we signed up.” Now, she sighed as she screwed the mascara wand back into the tube. She dropped it into the bag with a fair bit of flair then leaned on the dresser to look at me. “I keep thinking that, when I graduate, I’ll owe very little and I won’t have to leave the Chicago area. I can stay here, where I’m happy, get a job, and then find a real relationship. The day we did this, we sold our souls to the sex industry. But only for three years, and that’s important to remember. Nine months and we have a real chance at getting out of this. It’s just a job. It doesn’t have to be our career.”
“You’re right. As always.” I smiled, but my heart wasn’t in it.
I didn’t think she noticed, though, as she quickly kissed me on the top of the head and grabbed her stuff before running out. I watched after her with a longing look.
I wanted to log onto the site and perform. Wanted so badly to get into my favorite lingerie and bring some horny, bored people a little bit of happiness. But I couldn’t. I could only sit there and wonder if I’d get an e-mail or if I was free to do as I pleased.
Jenna was wrong. I hadn’t sold my soul to the sex industry.
I’d sold it to my history professor.
And I hadn’t charged him nearly enough for it.
Dear Professor, I wish you’d never seen me. Xoxo, Darcy
A new day brought with it a blank slate of emotions. As if that hadn’t been enough, it was Friday, which meant I didn’t have to deal with a history class. I was in for English at eleven, and then my time was my own.
Theoretically, of course.
If it were my own, I was using it for a nap. That’s it. I knew how to rock a Friday night. Usually, I’d have been gearing up for a long night in front of the webcam and a big-ass payday. I was trying not to think about the fact that I’d have to log in and turn it to a brick wall. I’d had to leave my room last time. The temptation to just do it had been too much.
Still, Friday was shaping up to be as good as it could be, given the situation. Granted, I’d had to listen to music until one a.m. when Louisa had stopped her orgasmic caterwauling next door, but I’d also gotten to read. About happy things.
Like people who weren’t stuck between a rock and a hard place and could do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted without being owned to Hell and back.
I was slightly bitter. I just wished that reminding myself that I’d chosen this would make it go away, because it didn’t.
Today, I wasn’t going to dwell on that. I was going to catch up on some schoolwork, eat a great, big, fat pizza for dinner, drink wine, then drunk-shop on Amazon. Everything after the word schoolwork was such a bad idea that it’d actually crossed onto the list of amazing ones at some point.
I took a deep breath and tied my damp hair into a ponytail. Water droplets snaked down the back of neck and disappeared beneath the collar of my shirt, and I reached back to stop them in their tracks. If I didn’t, I’d just be scratching my back all day trying to get rid of the annoying niggle they’d leave behind.
I opened my laptop and logged into Dalton Cam Girls. My fingers itched to click on the option to start a chat room, but I restrained myself and swept the mouse over it instead. There was no point before midday. No one was around. No money.
If I told myself that enough…
What I really needed to do was call the owner of Dalton Cam Girls and finally ask for some time off. I’d never asked and was owed some, so two weeks would be enough. She’d pay me twenty-five percent of projected earnings for the period and I wouldn’t have this type of temptation—and, hopefully, fourteen days would be enough to get myself out of this sticky situation.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Nisha’s number. It rang through to voicemail, so I left her message with my request. I hoped she’d get back to me today so I wouldn’t have to pretend tonight…
I jumped as my phone rang shrilly. Nisha’s number was on the screen. That saved the waiting game.
“Hey,” I answered.
“Darcy! I’m sorry I missed your call. Rory decided his poop was better on his wall than in his diaper,” she explained, referring to one of her two-year-old twins.
I’d have been grossed out if my brothers hadn’t been two once. “No worries. I remember that gross stage.”
“No kidding. Thankfully, Ellie hasn’t taken the same approach to her bodily outputs,” she finished on a sigh. “So, to answer your message—yes. Please do take a break. You deserve it.”
I let out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
“But…I can’t let you start until tomorrow. I don’t have enough time to schedule one the girls and change up the feeds. My in-laws are arriving this afternoon for some ‘family time,’ and all traces of Dalton must be removed from my house. I’d give my father-in-law a heart attack if he found out.”
Fuck. “Okay. What am I scheduled for tonight?” Please let it be private. Please let it be private.
“Hold on for two seconds. Ellie, you can’t put the dog’s bone in your mouth, sweetie.”
I fought my laughter as a wail of defiance sounded down the line. From Ellie, not Nisha, although I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that it had been from both of them.
“Right,” Nisha said after a door shut. “Sorry. My new nanny was as useful as a paper grocery bag in the rain. I’m between childcare and multitasking to the high heavens today. Here we go—you’re on public.”
Double fuck. “I bet there’s no way to change to private, either, is there.”
“Nope, sorry, hon. You can go solo or have a partner. It’s up to you, if that makes a difference.”
I didn’t think Jordan would approve of either, but what could I do? “Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out. Nine, right?”
“You got it. Hey, Darcy? Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Just feeling a bit overwhelmed with my applications, schoolwork, and stuff. I need to focus some on those.”
“Of course. If you need to talk, you know where I am.”
“Thanks, Nisha. I’ll let you get back to the twins.”
“If you need more time, that’s okay. Keep me in the loop, yeah?”
“Absolutely.”
“Talk to you soon, hon.”
The line clicked off, and I lifted my shoulders to my ears before dropping them with a heavy sigh.
How was I going to work my way through this?
He had to figure out how to turn those fucking e-mail notification pings off. They were the most annoying thing he’d ever experienced, especially when they came while he was fending off Carly Banks and her rapidly growing attachment to him.
That was his fault, too. He knew better than to mix work and pleasure. That said, the woman just didn’t unde
rstand the term “one night only” after an alcohol-fueled staff dinner.
“Come on, Jordan. It’s just dinner.” She leaned forward on his desk. Her white blouse was undone lower than normal, and the shadow of her prominent cleavage fell over his desk.
He navigated his mouse to his e-mail and clicked on his inbox. “I have two classes handing me papers this afternoon. Unfortunately, I will be grading all weekend.”
She pouted. “Are you sure I can’t help you relieve your stress?”
He rolled his shoulders and glanced up at her. “That’s why I have a masseuse.” And a well-meaning mother with an affinity for natural oil remedies. He’d have to check the tracking on that new package she was sending him…
The e-mail ping that had so annoyed him ten seconds ago was from Darcy. His stomach twitched and tightened at the sight of her name on his screen.
Carly opened her mouth, but he held his hand up to silence her for a moment.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Houston, we have a problem.
Dear Professor,
I need to speak with you ASAP.
Xoxo, Darcy.
He frowned and hit reply, ignoring Carly’s sigh of annoyance. Her frustration had nothing on his.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Message received.
Darcy,
My next class is in 45. I’m in my office.
J
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Over and out.
Dear Professor,
On my way.
Xoxo, Darcy.
Jordan’s eyebrows shot up. When she’d said ASAP, she’d really meant it. He was incredibly curious as to the problem. He hoped she wasn’t going to bring with her more resistance attempts or bullshit arguments. He was tiring of them, and though he guaranteed she’d like it when his patience ran out, he didn’t want it to happen just yet. He had his self-control by a thread, and he was determined to keep hold of it until the time was right.
Finally, he looked up and gave Carly Banks the attention she was so clearly craving. “I have a student coming in to discuss their grades. We’ll revisit this conversation at a later date.”
She beamed, obviously happy with his response. “Of course.” She leaned across the table.
But he turned his face, so her lips brushed his cheek instead. She straightened with a disappointed glimmer in her eyes but didn’t say another word. Instead, she did up two buttons of her blouse, confirming his suspicions, and left his office.
Thank fuck for that. She’d barely been in the room for five minutes, but she’d sucked all the life out of it. He needed to open a window or ten to get fresh air back into it so he could breathe more easily.
His mind went back to Darcy, as it so often did when he was alone. If he ruled out his immediate thoughts, he had no idea what she could possibly want to discuss with him. It sure as hell wasn’t her grades. He was sure she could write an essay blindfolded, without any prompts, and she’d get no lower than an A.
She was almost too perfect. She was smart and beautiful. Surely there was more to her than that? No one was that simple. After all, he himself had his secrets. He had things he kept inside, things he had no intention of sharing with anyone else.
He knew that his past was better staying in his past. Bringing it into the here and now would do nothing but cause him pain.
He rubbed his hand down his face at that thought. He wasn’t going to go there, not back to that time. He’d left it behind, buried it beneath a myriad of flash affairs and bad decisions.
Three knocks rattled the glass of his office door. It was ajar, and he saw the moment one suede boot peeked up. His gaze followed up the long leg it was attached to and over the curve of her chest before finally coming to rest on her face.
Darcy.
She’d barely stepped into the room, but the air in the room was coming back to life. It hummed with electricity and excitement, vibrating across his skin and making the hairs on his arms stand on end.
Her eyes were the darkest indigo, and as she shut the door and the light caught her eyes, he’d swear they glinted with a deep-purple hue. No sooner had he seen it than it was gone, and she blinked. Her dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail—one he wanted to wrap around his fist as he fucked her.
“Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt if you were busy,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her stomach.
“Not at all.” He closed his laptop and sat back. “What’s wrong?”
She opened her mouth then closed it again. Her light-pink tongue flicked out and wetted her lips. He followed the slow movement with his eyes, and when her tongue paused in the middle of her top lip, blood shot to his cock.
“I have to work tonight.”
“So do what you did two days ago.”
“That’s the thing.” She finally met his eyes and, with a tiny shake of her head, said, “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
She sighed and let her waist go. “I called my boss earlier to request time off. She said I could have two weeks, but I have to work tonight because she couldn’t reschedule another girl to take my show. My public show.”
Jordan’s eyebrows shut up. A public show? “And you couldn’t do a private one?”
Darcy shook her head. “Why do you think I’m here? I either have to do a solo or find someone to fuck me while I do it, and it’s not something that’s negotiable.”
He sat forward and rested his chin on his hand. His thumb stroked across his whiskery jaw as he studied her, contemplating the situation. Having other people watch her was out of the question, even if he was watching too.
Jordan Keaton didn’t share well. Or at all.
Unless…
A smirk spread across his face as he stood. Darcy’s eyes narrowed as he approached her slowly, but she didn’t move. He stopped right in front of her, his lips still upturned, and brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. The move was unusually tender for him, but he countered it immediately by wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and lowering his mouth to her ear.
She let out a succession of short, sharp breaths, and pleasure shot through him at how obviously he affected her. Fuck yes. Yes. He loved that. He slid his thumb down the side of her neck. He found her pulse instantly, and the way it pounded against his skin thrilled him.
“I have a solution.”
“You do?” she asked, a breathless tone to her voice.
“Of course.” He eased his hand down her body. Fuck—he loved her body. Always had. Loved every curve and dimple on her skin. “You do the show.”
“I’m confused.”
In a second, he had her back against the door. The blind rattled, and he tugged on the string to close the slats then grasped her waist with his strong hand. He refused to let her take a breath before his mouth descended on hers.
He hadn’t meant to kiss her. He hadn’t even particularly wanted to. It’d just happened. A reflexive movement… A desire to run his tongue over her pretty, pink lips the way she had when she’d walked in a few minutes ago. A desire to taste her, and taste her he did.
She was a mixture of peppermint and coffee with the underlying tingle of sugar. She was fresh and delicate, yet she was strong and addictive at the very same time.
She was a drug he would find all too easy to need every day.
“Tonight,” he rasped against her mouth, their lips still touching, “You do the show at my house. You do it with me.”
Her body stilled, except for her fingers, which tightened their grasp on his shirt. “With you? Are you insane?”
He smiled when she pulled back as much as she could with incredulity sparking in her deep, dark eyes. “Yes,” he responded simply. “My face won’t need to be on camera when you’ll be on your knees with my cock in your mouth.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said.” His voice took on a hard edge as he leaned into her. “I know exactly what I said, sweet thing. But, if you have to do this, then I’ll be damned if you’re going to let some asshole fuck you. And, shit, if someone’s gonna watch you and get off on it, I’m doing the same fucking thing.”
She swallowed. “It’s at nine,” she whispered after a long moment.
“You know how to find my house?” He searched her eyes.
When she nodded, he kissed her again, this time biting down on her lip.
“Be there for eight fifteen. And make sure you’re wearing pink.”
Dear Professor, you have no idea what you’re asking. Xoxo, Darcy.
I popped a bubble in my gum as I made the turn toward his house. It was almost pitch-black out, and I’d almost hit a guy on a bike without lights on my way. Naturally, I’d called his ass out before driving off. I’d just stopped muttering about the idiocy of, well, idiots.
The gates to Jordan’s driveway were open, and there were tiny lights in the ground lighting the length of the road to his house. I shrugged and drove up it. I was trying to convince myself that I was calm, cool, and collected, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth.
I was overwhelmingly nervous. My leg had been bouncing for the whole drive, and I didn’t think there was a second that my hands hadn’t been shaking when I’d turned the wheel. Butterflies had been fluttering up a storm in my stomach for an hour, and they were still going as I parked next to his SUV.
I shut the engine off and sat back in my seat. I’d done as he’d asked with the pink lingerie. I’d accepted that my usual black would have to be changed to his specification since this was going against the agreement—technically.
It would be interesting. I’d never done solely a blow job show before. I even had cough drops in my glove box.
Quite frankly, he’d taken a step into the deep end. Tonight, he was in my world. This was my comfort zone, my happy place. The place I thrived in.