Love TKO

by Selene Chardou

  It never occurred to me that Vegas would be so different from Reno when he’d approached me shortly before the previous September, and told me I would be working with his wife’s relatives at the Vogue Hotel, Spa and Casino. I was one of his top earners and he wanted me to leave the life with a bang.

  “There is no such thing as too much money, Chiara,” he’d told me when I realized I’d had no choice in the matter and it had been made for me.

  I know what most people think of women like me. I took the easy way out by laying on my back when in reality it wasn’t an effortless decision at all. I needed a job that would pay top dollar without an education at Yale or Princeton and I’d found one.

  I didn’t get to pick and choose my clients though I could turn down certain ones who were into kinky shit that went far beyond what I was willing to do. Everything was on the menu—light S&M, oral, anal, vaginal—but I did have my limits and that included anything that involved more pain than I could put up with and kissing on the mouth.

  It was too intimate and most of my clients were too busy being enthralled by what I could do for them, they didn’t miss not being able to feel my lips pressed against their own. The greatest sacrifice I’d ever made was the “no boyfriend” rule. I couldn’t have an intimate relationship and hadn’t had one with a man in over nine years.

  My loneliness clawed at me to the point where sometimes it became particularly painful, and I wondered if I would ever be able to instill any trust in men at all? Or would they forever be “marks,” even after I stopped what I did for a living?

  My shimmery fitted gold gown set off my olive complexion and I did completely nude makeup, which enhanced my gorgeous face complete with high cheekbones, a pert nose and full lips. Yvanka, another girl working the night with me, looked ravishing in a scarlet dress that showed off her best assets, clear alabaster skin and long sable brown hair. Her clear gray-green eyes were gorgeous and she could look at a man and knew what he wanted, just like that.

  I had to admit I was good but at twenty-five, she was better.

  “So, who are these guys anyway?” I asked as we put on our game faces and I applied a light layer of gloss to my pouty lips.

  “Fighters of some sort—I’m not sure what kind. I suppose they are boxers too, although I heard some will be from the UFC so it should be interesting.” She finished painting her lips scarlet before she glared at me with a smirk on her face. “What difference does it make? They’re all marks. They are highly sexed and just wanna blow off some steam—that is where we come in. But we’ll let the strippers do all the hard work.

  “Why should you, me and Alexis do anything at all until the men are ready to be alone with us? Remember, we have three men to focus on: Jesse, and his two special friends: Torin and Kieran. Everyone else gets the sloppy seconds.”

  “Amen to that,” Alexis murmured before she smiled brightly.

  She was the youngest at twenty-three and with her soft mocha complexion, brown eyes and blonde-streaked bob, she was stunning. A beautifully exotic woman with curves in all the right places and the most gorgeous breasts a man could be so lucky to put his hands on, she soon became one of the most requested since we’d arrived in Vegas.

  Standing next to her while she wore a silver-blue cat suit she looked like she raided from Beyoncé’s closet, I felt like an old cow. Yep, it was definitely time for me to get out of the game. I was jaded and my eyes had lost that once perfect sparkle they’d held. I was no longer an ingénue, just another tired old whore who needed to be put out to pasture.

  “I can’t believe Karl would set this up with the three of us. I shouldn’t even be here—I’m too damn old for this crap.”

  “What are you talking about?” Alexis looked at me in the vanity mirror. “Girl, you got some serious self-esteem issues. You don’t look a day over twenty-five and you can still pop that pussy so stop the complainin’.”

  “This is just wrong. He should have given this job to Lauren or Sandrine—certainly not me.”

  “Hey,” Yvanka murmured, “Karl saved me from Club X-Tasy. I was brought over to this country from my homeland of the Ukraine via human trafficking. Mr. Jackson was kind enough to offer me a position in his organization. You think this is tough? Try servicing a quota before you can have food or water. This is nothing. The sooner you realize you need to take your own first world problems out of the equation, and get down to business, the happier you’ll be.”

  “Face it, honey, we’re makin’ a killin’ usin’ what God gave us.” Alexis smiled before she turned toward Yvanka. “Time to work…bitches.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the inside joke. We often played Britney Spears’ “Work Bitch” on auto-repeat while we got ready for a gig. It was fun and it reminded us we weren’t alone. We had one another and we’d never let anything happen to each other. That was a solemn vow we’d made when we were all sent to Vegas from Reno.

  I stood on shaky legs and had no idea why I was so nervous. I usually stayed away from all narcotics and alcohol because I liked to keep a clear head. Well, there was that reason and all of us girls were randomly tested each month; blood, urine and stool samples were taken to make sure we continued on the path of straight and narrow. Mr. Jackson did not employ drug addicts and any narcotic found in your samples was a cause for immediate dismissal; then again, so was a sexually transmitted disease.

  I’d only known of a handful of cases but there was a famous one of a whore though no one knew her real name. In our circles, she was simply known as “Typhoid Mary”, named after the original one, Mary Mallon. She became greedy and would accept extra money if a man didn’t wish to wear a condom. She came down with HIV from one of her clients and proceeded to spread it to three other men before her results came back.

  The only reason why Mr. Jackson didn’t lose his business license and everything he’d worked for was because the clients signed waivers. We are supposed to make our clients wear condoms at all times and if we are servicing a same sex client, a dental dam, but whores are like any other group of people. We’ll gladly forgo them for “special” clients or those that are willing to pay top dollar not to use one.

  Never underestimate the stupidity of people in general, and men in particular.

  Although I had exactly three clients I never wore a condom with because it was their wish not to, I made sure I got myself tested every week for any sexually transmitted disease. I was way too paranoid something like that would happen to me and with good reason. I had less than six months left and then I was saying farewell to this life, this city and this country.

  I’d already purchased a beautiful apartment in the heart of Paris next to Seine River, had a gorgeous little black Mini Cooper stored in the building’s underground parking lot, and had my one way ticket in hand.

  Thanks to my birth father being first generation Italian, I’d been able to secure my Italian passport and as a European Union citizen, could live out the rest of my life in France. That is exactly what I planned to do. This state held too many memories and I’d always loved Paris. What could be a more perfect plan?

  “Earth to Chiara!” Yvanka exclaimed loudly as she tapped one of her Christian Louboutin-enclosed feet. “It’s time to make an appearance and you are really holding up our progress. Shouldn’t I be the one doing all the daydreaming? It’s not like you’ve ever been a sex slave and know what real hell is like.”

  I silenced her with a cold glare. “I may not know your hell, Yvanka Oliynyk, so don’t presume to fuckin’ know mine.” I walked past her while her mouth gaped open and Alexis immediately stood by her side and grabbed one of her hands.

  One would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to know the two women were sleeping together but that wasn’t my business. I’d also been exceptionally cruel to her when I’d made the statement I had but I was sick of people judging me. They didn’t know about my sister or the niece and nephew I had to take care of.

  I was single and therefore footloose and f
ancy free.

  That couldn’t have been further from the truth.

  Loud music and the overlapping voices of horny young men surrounded by strippers assaulted me immediately. What I wouldn’t give for my happy pills combination of Xanax and Wellbutrin but Cristal champagne would have to do instead. However, the first move I had to make was directly to Jesse to thank him for inviting us.

  Although a famous boxer and sports star, he was very down to earth and didn’t have an ego the size of Utah. This was the third party he’d invited me to since I’d arrived in Vegas. I continued to be grateful because I made good money and his friends, although rowdy, were by and large, gentlemen.

  Most wanted what every man wanted: a warm, hot body grinding against them and maybe seconds or thirds but none of them were into anything kinky and they preferred to fuck a woman in her mouth or pussy. Most of them weren’t into anal sex and none of them wanted to tie us up. All in all, a dream night because I could simply blank out and be anywhere when the sex finally started.

  He was tall and lean muscle mass, caramel-skinned thanks to his black and Mexican heritage, with honey-colored eyes and perfect Latin features. He also stood as did his two friends while he watched me approach him.

  “Chiara, baby, you are lookin’ fine as fuck.” Jesse embraced me warmly before I smiled graciously.

  “Why thank you. I brought Yvanka and Alexis since I wasn’t sure what your friends’ preferences were.”

  “Anything gorgeous with a tight pair of tits and a tighter arse,” one of the blonds said as he looked me up and down with dark blue eyes.

  “Irish, are you?” I strolled over and gently touched the lapel of his silk shirt, which matched the color of his eyes. “What’s your name?”

  “Kieran Duffy. This is me brother, Torin. You may not have heard of him but believe me, you will…soon.”

  I’d had heard of Torin Duffy.

  It was practically in our job description to keep up to date with all the different movie stars, musicians, sports players and the like because God forbid we didn’t recognize who we were servicing. I even had photo albums filled with mafia families—Albanian, Italian, Russian, Ukrainian and Chinese Triads—their names, their positions in the organizations and what not. It was the only time having a photographic memory served me well because once I saw someone, whether it be in a photograph or real life, I never forgot their face or their name.

  Torin was very famous, especially to people who followed mixed martial arts and the UFC League. He’d fought and won all over the world and had even reached the championship though he’d only gotten as far as the semi-finals. He was good but he was all ice. There was nothing warm about him what so ever.

  At least that’s what I’d always thought when I watched him fight but as I allowed my eyes to graze over to his, my face felt warm and my whole body felt hot in the thin material I wore. The sequins felt heavy over the fierce beating of my own heart and I was left to wonder if I had judged this man all wrong.

  He might appear to be ice but his core was fire and underneath it all, he was waiting to blow, figuratively and literally.

  Men like him preferred not to have a woman all over them. I could see it in those arctic blue eyes of his therefore I approached him warily though I kept a smile on my face as I held my hand out to shake his. “I’m Chiara.”

  “Is that your real name?” he inquired in an accent that was a mix of Bostonian and Irish but one hundred percent male.

  I think I creamed my panties when he asked me that.

  I had to stifle a laugh. “Yes, it is my name. I’m not a streetwalker, Mr. Duffy. My name is Chiara Bassi. I’m a lady and I demand to be treated like one.”

  Torin actually grinned at me when I was expecting a sarcastic remark accompanied by a smirk on his smug face. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I have been hangin’ out with cocktail waitresses and strippers for so long, I forget when I am in the presence of real…substance and beauty.”

  “No, it is I who should apologize,” I said as he snaked an arm around my waist and led me away from his brother and friend. “I know who you are and I had no idea I would be in the presence of all this…greatness tonight. I mean, this is going to be your year…the year you finally win the Ultimate Fighting Championship.”

  “So you’re an MMA fan?”

  “Who isn’t? I’ve grown up in Nevada my whole life and I’ve followed boxing and mixed martial arts since my teenage years. I don’t know. Some women love basketball, football, ice hockey, tennis, baseball—my weakness was fighting. I love the whole ‘no-gloves’ rule and mixed martial arts is just so…primal and pure. It’s like taking the whole genre of fighting back to its roots,” I explained as he handed me a fluted glass of Cristal champagne.

  “I’ve never seen women like you…at the fights I mean. Either you have your hardcore fans because they wanna be in women’s mixed martial arts or you have your groupies who just want to fuck a fighter. They could give a fuck about us as people—the winner of a fight is just another fuckin’ notch on their bedpost.” Torin found us a private corner that featured an unoccupied sofa and we sat next to one another.

  “I’m not like that.” I looked down at my champagne and sipped from it for strength and fortitude. “Maybe that’s why I don’t go to the fights. I’d rather watch them in the comfort of my own home on Pay-Per-View anyway.”

  His fingers touched my chin and the feeling was electric. He had magic hands because just like that, I found myself lost in those blue eyes and I didn’t ever want to come up for air.

  “So, what do you do?” Torin asked me. “You said you brought friends but are you some kind of hostess or madam?”

  “You mean like Heidi Fleiss? No. I’m paid to keep the guests of Vogue Hotel, Spa and Casino happy.” I smiled again and he immediately relaxed.

  “Good. For a moment there, I thought you were a high priced whore.”

  The words stung, more so than the white lie I’d told him. Technically, I was subcontracted to Vogue Hotel, Spa and Casino though I was still employed by Raymond Jackson. Yes, my job did entail keeping guests happy but some men didn’t want to have sex with escorts, no matter how expensive we were. We were just arm candy or good luck charms and I’d been that too. However, more often than not, when I spent time with a man, it led to sex—pure and simple.

  One could dress my occupation up with names like escort, call girl, et cetera but I wasn’t any different from a hooker, whore or streetwalker. The only difference between them and me was our clientele and the amount of money they had to blow on getting their rocks off.

  “So, do you have a special someone in your life?” I wondered in a pleasant voice, desperate to change to the subject.

  “Not yet…although there’s a lot of nobodies and no-one-specials.” He clutched the glass of Irish whiskey with his other hand that hadn’t latched on to mine. “It’s not exactly easy in my line of work to find quality women, if you know what I mean. You never know who really cares about you and who is just lookin’ to make a name for themselves by being pictured with you. It’s disconcerting.”

  I held his hand softly with my own as I turned toward him and our knees touched one another. The heat between us travelled all the way up my thighs and directly to my core. This surprised me because I was usually cool and unaffected by the opposite sex while on the clock.

  Most of the men I dated were good looking, cultured and fabulously wealthy so it wasn’t like Torin was the first hot guy I’d been with in a long time. I usually never allowed my feelings to get in the way and turned my emotions off like a switch. He was dangerous because I found myself lacking the self-control I usually had and he could leave me wanting something I could never have or possess.

  I’d promised myself I would hold off. Love could wait until I reached France. There was a man out there for me but he would never be my client or someone who I’d known in my former life. It was much too dangerous and I had no interest in playing Russian Roulette with my f
ragile heart.

  However my body had other ideas and it drove me close to the brink of an anxiety attack.

  “Hey, are you all right?”

  I stared into Torin’s eyes and blinked several times before I plastered a smile on my face. “I’m fine. It’s just…a bit warm in here and…” I trailed off before I swigged from my champagne again.

  “Let’s get you some air.” He grabbed my champagne and set it next to his whiskey before he pulled me to my feet and walked me toward the balcony. I glanced around to find Yvanka seated on Jesse’s lap laughing while Alexis sat with Kieran, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist.

  We walked out onto the balcony and the January air was crisp and cool. It wasn’t particularly freezing but it was exactly what I needed to put my hormones on ice. I was acting like a teenager for Christ’s sake and I could have fun with this sexy, tough fighter but love would never enter the picture and it couldn’t if I wanted to keep my job and my sanity.

  “You must be freezing.” Torin pressed his body to mine from behind while his arms wrapped themselves around my waist and held me close. I expected a poke or prod from a stiff dick against my back but there was nothing.

  This was definitely a first; a gentleman who actually treated me like a lady even when we were alone and didn’t expect me to get down on my knees at the first opportunity given. I gained instant respect for a man I thought would be uncouth and a bit belligerent if I judged him by the way he fought his opponents in the octagon alone.

  Hidden behind his tough exterior was a man who was not only wounded but hiding a lot of pain and hurt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he hadn’t had the best childhood and like me, he was very good at showing people what he wanted them to see. He was definitely an enigma, a puzzle I would give anything to solve because perhaps if I could figure him out, I would understand why he affected me like no man ever had.