Pleasure Point: The Complete Series

by Evans, Jennifer

  “Three minutes and fifty seconds,” I said to Butch when he broke the surface of the water.

  “Damn, dude. You always outdo me.”

  My phone rang, and it was Sandy Farnsworth again. I answered the phone and heard her sultry voice.

  “Hey surfer boy. You been avoiding me?”

  I laughed. “Nope. You know how it is, though, the ocean calls.”

  “I’m in Carlsbad today. Can I buy you lunch? There’s something I thought you could help me with. A business idea.”

  “Really? What?”

  “You’ll have to meet me for lunch to find out. I’m just finishing up a spa treatment at the Carlsbad Hilton. Meet me there for lunch, and we can talk.”

  Spa treatment. That sounded about right for Sandy. I had a feeling she spent her days getting luxurious massages, taking her kid around for surfing and tennis lessons, and then going shopping in La Jolla. I don’t mean to sound judgmental, but I’d seen women like her all my life growing up in Southern California. Gorgeous, rich, and pampered. Who was I to turn down a beautiful woman for lunch?

  “Sounds good. But you’re not buying. What time?”

  When I hung up the phone, Butch stared at me. “Who was that?”

  “Remember Sandy Farnsworth? I gave surf lessons to her kid the other day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She’s in the area and wants to have lunch.”

  “Why? She interested in you?”

  “Don’t think so. Says she’s got a business idea.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “She’s married, right?”

  “Yes, she’s married.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  He scratched his head. “You should run fast. It’s either that or you’ll end up as breakfast for some predator.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “You know, I was watching a documentary on National Geographic channel the other day,” he said.

  “And?”

  “And they showed how fast a cheetah can run. It got me to thinking. What would you do if a cheetah ran after you doing seventy-five miles per hour?”

  I said, “I don’t know. What would you do?”

  “I’d do eighty.”

  I picked up my towel and dried myself off. “You’ve got to get some new material.”

  * * *

  The Carlsbad Hilton was one of the newer hotels in the area, set right on the Pacific Coast with a glorious ocean view. I sauntered into the lobby of the hotel feeling a bit scruffy in my faded jeans, surf T-shirt, and Vans. The hotel was decorated in a surf style featuring professional photographs of big waves and pro-surfers in the tube of a perfect wave. I started to relax.

  The young girl at the hostess desk of the restaurant greeted me. Her gaze held mine a beat too long before she became interested in her hands.

  “I think I see my lunch partner,” I said.

  “Mrs. Farnsworth. Right this way.”

  The Hilton must’ve offered some pretty damn great spa treatments because when I saw Sandy, she glowed. She wore an ivory-colored, silky one-piece pantsuit that was backless and extremely low cut in front. I could see her nipples straining against the fabric and stared a little too long before snapping my head up to meet her smile.

  She extended one impeccably manicured hand. “Glad you could make it.” Her smile showed perfect white teeth, which I was sure were the result of thousands of dollars’ worth of cosmetic dentistry.

  We were seated in the patio area, and my gaze darted out to the ocean to check out the waves. I smiled, inhaling salty sea air into my lungs.

  “Something to drink?” she asked while raising her near-empty glass of white wine to the server and pointing for a refill.

  The server appeared at our table, a young woman with shockingly bleach-blonde hair. I ordered a beer and the fish tacos while Sandy ordered the salmon with all vegetables.

  I unfolded the cloth napkin, placing it on my lap. “How’s your son doing? Catching any waves?”

  She shook her head. “That was my husband’s idea. He thinks his boy needs to be a jock but Daniel’s really not that interested. He’d rather sit in front of his Xbox all day long.”

  The server brought our lunch, and I dug in, waiting for Sandy to get to the point of our meeting. She took another long swig of her wine, took a deep breath, and dove right in. “Believe it or not, Jax, swinging is alive and well in Carlsbad.”

  My fork stopped midway to my mouth. “What?”

  She laughed nervously. “Where do I begin? You’re a big boy. A very attractive one, I should add.” She buttered a slice of bread. “My husband, he makes a lot of money and he’s a good dad, but he … he doesn’t really want to be with only me.”

  I set down my fork and gave her my full attention.

  “It’s just that you seem like a really easy guy to talk to, and I need somebody to tell all this to.”

  Did the woman not have any girlfriends she could confide her love problems to? “I’m listening.”

  “Well,” she said, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “My husband … How do I put this? He’s not all that content. He wants more than me.”

  Who wouldn’t be content with Sandy?

  “He started going on websites for adults looking to have a little fun, and come to find out, there’s a whole network of people in the area who like to wife swap.”

  This was turning out to be the most entertaining lunch I’d had in a while. But I was also starting to feel sorry for Sandy.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “At first I told him there was no way. But he can be pretty persuasive, and he convinced me that it would be a good idea to meet some of these people. So we did. Turns out, lots of them live right there in our neighborhood. Some are even in my PTA group.” She took another long swallow of wine and pointed to her glass as the server walked by. “I mean, I’m a sexual person too, Jax, but some of the stuff these people are into …”

  I drummed my fingers on the table. “Sandy, I don’t know if you should be telling me—”

  I stopped talking when the server brought Sandy’s glass of wine. She took a long swig, and I wondered if I’d have to drive her home.

  “Let’s just say that my husband likes to watch me have sex with other women and …” She blushed. “There are sex toys involved, and … Jesus Christ, Jax, I’m over it. Not that I have anything against sex toys or sex with other women or … Oh shoot, I’m babbling. Dammit, I’m a healthy woman with a sex drive, but my husband’s obsessed. All the man wants to do when he’s not working is cruise those websites and find more people for us to have sex with.”

  Why was she telling me all this? “Sandy, I don’t know if—”

  She looked at me, her green eyes unwavering. “Let me finish. What I was thinking is that maybe you would be interested in becoming my partner. My paid partner.”

  An electric jolt shot up my spine. “Sandy, I don’t know if I’m the person you should be talking to about all these things.”

  Her eyes became animated, and she leaned forward. “It’s the perfect scenario. I’ve thought about this a lot. I’m going to tell my husband that I’m not going to be his little playmate anymore. No way am I divorcing him, we’ve got kids to raise, but I want to have sex on my terms.” She was smiling now and reached up to stroke my arm. “You’re so strong.” The expensive white wine was working its magic. “You’re easy to be with, and you’re sexy, and I think you’re single, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “It’s perfect!” She sat up straighter, licking her lips, and launching into her sales pitch. “You and I set up a few times during the week at a hotel, and I pay you for your services.”

  I laughed nervously. “I really don’t think this is such a good idea.”

  “It’s a great idea,” she said, throwing both her hands up in the air. “Nobody will ever know, and you certainly could do worse than me.”

  She had that one right. Sandy Far
nsworth was one great looking female. The woman took pride in her appearance. What man wouldn’t be satisfied with her?

  “You’re a really cool lady, Sandy. In other circumstances, I’d be the first one to ask you out, but—”

  “But what? I’ll pay you. You take care of me, I’ll take great care of you, and we’ll become friends. Really good friends.”

  She leaned over the table, and I felt her breath hot in my ear. “I loved the way you looked in your wetsuit the other day. You’re one sexy man, surfer boy. And I’ll bet you know your way around my body. I’ll bet you’ll do it exactly how I like it.”

  Sandy needed to sober up.

  “We could check into a room right now,” she said, taking another sip of wine.

  “Well, I do appreciate this Sandy, I really do, but I have to get back to work.” I didn’t really have to get to work, but I did need to end this lunch. I took a last sip of my beer. “You are a sexy lady, but I’ll have to say no.”

  “Okay handsome, but I didn’t even tell you the best part. I’ve got a few girlfriends who are in on this with me. So, if you want to make a little extra money—”

  “I don’t think—”

  “And when I say extra money, how does a thousand dollars an hour sound? Cash.”

  Was she crazy? “Sandy, I know you’re having trouble at home, but I don’t think this is the answer.” Why would she think I’d be interested in becoming a paid sex partner? I loved sex, but the thought of someone leaving money on a nightstand for my services did not appeal.

  She gazed at me with eyes that were becoming unfocused from the alcohol, drained her glass, and caught the server’s attention. “I’ll have another glass.” Her words were starting to slur.

  I smiled at the server while gently touching Sandy’s hand and said, “She’ll have black coffee.” Sandy studied me with amusement then sunk back into her chair.

  “Why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” she said, a slow smile crossing her lips.

  We sat together while Sandy sipped her coffee, and unsatisfied that she was okay to drive, I grabbed my phone.

  “I’m calling an Uber for you, and I’ll follow in your car.” Remembering her contact information from the surf lesson, Sandy lived in the area. I needed to make sure she was safely home, and then I could run back to my truck. I always looked for ways to fit workouts into my day.

  “I’m fine.” She turned her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

  “No, you’re not. What’s your address?” I checked my phone and saw that there were four cars ready, circling the area like sharks. Sandy gave me her address and finished her coffee. I paid the bill and walked Sandy through the lobby, my arm around her to offer support. “Lean into me.”

  She snuggled in, and I picked up a whiff of designer perfume. “You’re so sexy, surfer boy. You sure you don’t want to get nasty with me?” She grabbed my arm and tried to steer me away from the exit. “We could get a room.”

  I smiled and set her back on course toward the exit. “Give me your valet ticket.”

  The Uber driver pulled up to the front of the Hilton in a car with a surfboard strapped to the top. He waved, and I settled Sandy into the backseat while the valet ran at top speed to collect her car from the parking area. “Can you wait a couple minutes while they get my car?” I asked the driver. He said he could, and like magic, there was Sandy’s expensive car, snaking up the driveway. I slid into the leather seat of the Mercedes, put that baby in gear, and followed. Damn, that was one luxury car. Must be nice having some of the finer things in life. But, I guess money couldn’t buy Sandy happiness.

  Sandy’s house wasn’t too far from the Hilton, only about six miles or so. We pulled up to a gated community. Sandy must’ve told the guard I was okay, because he signaled me through. I let out a low whistle when I saw the multimillion dollar homes strategically placed to take advantage of the panoramic view of the glittering Pacific Ocean backdrop. Kids played ball in the street, mothers pushed strollers down the sidewalk, and a few boys whizzed by on their skateboards, crouched down for maximum speed, baseball caps turned backwards on their heads. Sandy’s driver slowed in front of one of the larger homes, and I pulled the Mercedes into the driveway.

  Sandy lurched out of the car, threw her arms around me, and moved in as though she were going to kiss me. She smelled heavenly.

  “Whoa there.” I gently removed her arms while eying the neighbor kids who had suddenly taken an interest in Sandy and me. “Careful of the neighbors.”

  “Who cares about the neighbors?” she said with a hiccup. “My husband probably wants me to screw them next. So what about my deal, lover boy? It’s good money. Fun too.”

  “Well, I am flattered. But I’m going to have to pass.”

  I escorted Sandy to her front door while she fumbled with her house keys, and I got her safely inside. I caught a glimpse of her living room. It looked like it had been professionally decorated, with oversized sofas that probably no one ever sat on and a heavy wooden coffee table with a collection of glass balls artfully arranged in a crystal bowl.

  She turned and blew me an alcohol infused kiss. “Bye-bye, sexy man. Talk to you soon.”

  I shook my head as I made my way back to the driver, reaching for my wallet. Lunch at the Hilton had set me back, and I couldn’t really afford the Uber, but my mom had taught me to be a gentleman. Of course, I could always borrow the money from Sandy, I thought wryly. She’d be thrilled to pay me, probably put me to work right that instant.

  “Need a ride back?” he asked as I peeled off bills for a tip.

  It was a gorgeous California day, somewhere around seventy degrees, and the Pacific Ocean spread out from my vantage point high up on the hill.

  “Thanks, man, but I think I’m going to get a run in.” I checked out his surfboard. It was a Jeff Clark nose rider with a Harbour fin. “Nice board.”

  “Yeah, it is,” he said with a huge grin. “This baby’s the best for hanging five. Sure you don’t want a ride?”

  “Nope. I’m ready for a workout.”

  “Suit yourself. See ya in the lineup.” He put the car in gear and took off with a wave.

  I took in my surroundings, the high-priced community with its many secrets stashed behind closed doors. I removed my T-shirt and tied it around my waist then started off at a trot.

  I picked up the pace, my breath flowing easily in and out, the asphalt feeling like a conveyor belt under my tennis shoes, and thought about lunch with Sandy. First time I’d ever been offered money for sex. Me, a male escort? No. I actually felt kind of sorry for Sandy. Poor thing must have reached her limit to actually approach me with her business arrangement. I could hardly believe it. The woman could have any man she wanted. Why me?

  My body fell into a rhythm, my heart pumping, endorphins happily flowing. I passed lush bougainvillea bushes with their red, pink, and yellow flowers, and sage-covered hills filled my nostrils with the pungent scent of the herb mixed with a delightful ocean breeze. It felt like I’d only begun when I reached the end of my six-mile jog.

  When I made it back to the Hilton, sweaty, but happy, the valet retrieved my truck from the parking lot, and I thought of Holly. Maybe she would want to go for a surf at San O, and we could get dinner after. I checked the surf report and tide chart on my phone, and the conditions looked perfect. I scrolled through my contact list and called her.

  I by no means was a male escort, but I could show Holly a good time.

  A very good time.

  Holly

  I couldn’t believe how attracted I was to Jax. All it took was one soft kiss from him, and my knees buckled. I’d spent the morning daydreaming of his perfect athletic body moving slowly over mine, his hair falling into my face, his eyes glazed over with desire, and well, he was all I could think about.

  That’s why when my phone rang and the caller ID read “Jax Priest,” I almost dropped the phone because my hands were shaking so hard.

  “Is this the be
autiful lady I had the extreme pleasure of hanging out with last night?” His voice was low and sexy.

  “Why yes it is. What’s up?” I said.

  “What’re you doing today? You into catching some waves with me at San O? Conditions are glassy and the waves are medium sized.”

  Would I? “That sounds great. How about I meet you there?”

  “No. I’ll pick you up. This is a date. We can go to Sonny’s for dinner after.”

  Sonny’s was a kick-ass Italian restaurant in San Clemente that was popular with locals. I could taste the delicious chicken bolognese already.

  “Cool. And I’ll have your paddle board ready,” I said.

  “Great.”

  “And Jax, why didn’t you tell me about that man you saved yesterday?”

  He let out a low laugh. “Oh, you mean Mike. He got himself into a little trouble with his girlfriend.”

  “What’s that have to do with him being in the middle of the ocean?”

  “He was on one of those fancy yachts on a short cruise, got in a fight with his girlfriend, and thought it would be a good idea to swim to shore.”

  Jax made the whole thing sound like an everyday occurrence. “That man could have drowned! Is he okay?”

  “Yes sweetie, he’s okay. I’ll tell you the whole story while we’re in the lineup.”

  And that was Jax. He had a way about him that was childlike with zero ego. He just wanted to make the world a better place. I had never met anyone quite like him.

  Jax arrived in his truck, shoved his stand up paddle board into the back, and we drove to San O.

  Surfing at sunset has always been a spiritual experience for me. As I took off on a wave, the sun setting behind me, the long line of my shadow reflected in the water in front of me, I thought about how lucky I was. Sometimes I have those moments in life that make me think, “This is what it’s all about.” Surfing with Jax, feeling the heat of his body next to me in the truck on the drive down to the beach, having him wax my surfboard for me and carry it to the water’s edge, and then even catching some of the same waves as we looked over at each other and laughed—this was what life was all about. If I could’ve stopped time right then and there, I would have. The waves were small that night, and as the sun set, we were able to sit on our boards and talk.