by Aria M. Gray
How very Rhys.
“Is this legal?” I ask. I’d heard of such idiotic things in books and movies, but real life?
“You have eighteen months to remarry, Miss Lane, or you lose everything of your husband’s. It’s all in the will, paragraph thirty.” The attorney pushes the will across the table, and I scan the clause while the general peers over my shoulder.
“If she doesn’t marry, what happens to my son’s things? His apartment? Money?”
“It all reverts to you, General Montgomery.”
He’ll love that.
But remarry? So soon? Who to?
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I ask.
“Corporal Rhys asked I not tell you until the last minute. He hoped you’d marry on your own and you’d never find out about this. This clause was a last case sort of thing. I thought eighteen months to be rather…last minute.”
“Yes, I think so,” I mutter in disbelief.
Eighteen months to find a husband? Without the money, I will lose the business, apartment, everything. I’ll have debts and more problems than I can count.
I’m in shock. “Is there no way to change this?”
The attorney shakes his head. “Airtight, I’m afraid.”
Great. A husband.
Since Rhys died, I’d ignored the idea of marriage, honoring what we had. I’ve trained the men at the business, but usually, I sit in a chair instructing another woman what to do to the man. It gave me my kicks, but I never touched, only looked except for once or twice. But even then it was oral, never all the way as I had been with Rhys.
Rhys had my heart and body.
Now he’ll have my heart only, and I’ll share my body with another man.
It equally frightens and excites me.
_____________________________________________________
After the meeting, I grab a late lunch and visit the business. It’s already almost four, the attorney meeting having run over. Mrs. Dodds will need to know about this clause. Perhaps she’ll have a solution.
I’m still reeling in disbelief. My mask keeps slipping as well, adding to my irritation. I always wear a mask when I do any dealings with the business. Here I am Madam Scarlet or simply the Madam. I go by Madam Lane only on occasion.
“Morning, Madam Scarlet,” she greets as I enter her office.
“Morning, might we talk?”
She glances up from paperwork. “Normally yes, but a possible employee is coming in any minute. Make it fast.”
“We reread Rhys’s will today.”
“What on earth for?”
I sigh. “There was an extra clause. Rhys wrote that if I don’t marry by the time I turn thirty, I lose everything.”
She gasps. “The business too?”
“Everything,” I whisper.
She pales. She’s been with the company almost since day one. Without it, she’d suffer too. Many of our employees will return to the hell holes we found them in.
She opens her mouth to speak, but the front desk secretary enters.
“Mr. Carter arrived.”
“Send him in,” Dodds says. Once the secretary leaves, she continues, “Take a seat and we’ll continue the conversation.”
Wandering to the couch in the corner, I sip the latte I brought with me. I glance at the window at the growing storm clouds, glad for a momentary distraction.
My peace doesn’t last long.
Mr. Carter enters, and I am instantly intrigued. Not by his looks, though he’s flaming hot, tousled hair and fine figure hidden under a hoodie, but by his trembling voice. He’s nervous, but why?
Dodds runs through the normal conversation. I created the contract and policies and can recite them by heart.
But Carter doesn’t react like the others. Most are confident, having tampered with prostitution before or having seen their fair share of bare flesh.
I’d gamble this boy hasn’t seen a half a dozen naked women in his life. The corner of his lips twitches, and he wipes his hands on his thighs.
I sit up a bit. Those are very delectable thighs, and in this line of work, I’ve seen my share. What must he look like bare?
Dodds glances over then and smiles. She has known me long enough to recognize my expression. “Strip.”
His eyes fly open. “What?”
“Take off your clothes. We have to know what you look like undressed.” She grins like a fool at me while the young man hesitates. “If you can’t even take your clothes off, you’re certainly not suited for us, Mr. Carter.”
Mr. Carter continues to hesitate.
“Shy?” I tease. The glare he throws me is a little startling. There is a strong bone in his body after all.
I watch while he peels off each piece. I’ll have to hug Dodds for this. It’s my personal strip show. Sometimes we ask employees to undress when we’re unsure about a hire, but Dodds had her mind made up. Why turn down this Apollo? Stripping was just for my enjoyment. She does know how to lighten my mood.
He stops at his boxers, but Dodds forces him to continue.
I feel mildly embarrassed for him, but my mind forgets as soon as he stands naked.
I suck in a breath. Good Lord, I didn’t know a man could be that well-endowed. A little against my will my eyes settle on his length. I’m a little jealous of the lady clients who get to enjoy that.
Dodds tells him to dress, ending the moment. Once he’s clothed again, she says, “Welcome to Black Tie Escort Service, Rhys Carter.”
My heart clenches. Rhys.
Dodds knew they shared names. Scheming woman, she knew what she was doing.
As she goes on, I shrink back in my seat. A filthy feeling settles on me for even enjoying looking at a man that shared a name with my husband.
I bet most people would laugh at a madam being so easily disturbed.
As soon as Carter, I can’t call him by his first name, leaves, Dodds turns to me. “I’m sorry about the Rhys part, but you clearly enjoyed that. You squirmed in your seat.”
“Thank you, but now to more serious matters. What do you think I should do about the husband thing?”
She laughs. “Easy.”
“Enlighten me?”
“Marry one of the escorts.”
“For Heaven’s sake-”
“Get a prenup and marry for a few months. Get a divorce after.”
She does have a point. “An escort, though?”
She grins. “You liked that one! It can’t be that hard.”
It’s not likely I’m going to marry another true love in the next eighteen months. What if this is my best choice?
“I’ll pick out the ones most suitable for such an arrangement. You can meet them during next week’s training session,” she says.
I sigh. “Alright.”
I guess it could be worse. My temporary husband will be handpicked and hot. None of the escorts are exactly ugly.
But it’s all so very tacky.
Chapter 4. Rhys
My new place is great. Four other guys are my roommates, but they all go about their own business. Only one of them, Bill, is new like me.
I continue classes at the college and training at night, but it’s getting harder to balance the two. Not that it’s unusual; several of the guys are younger than me and in college too.
Over the next two weeks, I visit the doctor the secretary recommended and sit in on training lectures with graphic photos and directions on positions, sex toys, and the like. It turns out Mrs. Dodds heads training too, or at least this part. I’ve heard Madam Scarlet takes over when training gets physical.
I lay awake at night thinking of the woman from the office. Why hadn’t I ask her name? I thought she might be another escort, but I’ve never seen her in any of the training. Maybe she’s more experienced.
Every time I imagine that face, my cock hardens. It has gotten bad enough that one day in training one of my fellow trainees noticed the damp spot my cum left in my pants. Thankfully, it was one of the gi
rls, and she just winked and snickered.
“Lucky girl, whoever she is,” the girl whispered in my ear.
After two weeks, Dodds instructs me to go with her to a penthouse inside of a high-security building. The Madam wants to meet with me personally.
No one meets with her unless it’s bad news or one on one training. The other employees speak in hushed voices about her, almost as if they fear her. If she wants to get physical, I’m not sure I can. That woman from the office still haunts me.
I’m not sure what to expect as we pass a security guard in the lobby and ride the elevator to the fifteenth floor. When we enter the penthouse, the first thing I notice is the odd shape. The entire place is shaped in a C, the living room branching off the bottom and bedrooms down a hall at the top. A huge kitchen fills the middle.
A woman in a white, silk robe stands silhouetted in front of a window.
“Marcella, Mr. Carter is here,” Dodds says.
The woman turns and steps into the light. The moment she does, I recognize her as the woman from the office. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Carter.”
____________________________________________________
I’m in shock and awe. Over the next half hour, the woman, or Madam Marcella Lane as it turns out, explains her predicament.
A temporary husband?
She makes it clear this arrangement means no more to her than a piece of paper and a prenup. There will be no official ceremony, though I don’t know how she worked that out. I sign the papers, stay with her for four months, and then we divorce.
“You’ll be paid extra and free to be with whoever you wish. Essentially, it’s an open marriage,” she says.
What she doesn’t realize is that I don’t care about the extra money. My recent fantasies have come true. Being with this woman is enough.
“No open marriage.”
Both women sit up.
“I don’t wish to be…involved during this marriage,” Marcella says. Why doesn’t she say she doesn’t want to be fucked? I’ve never heard of a madam with delicate language.
“That is my only stipulation,” I say. When I’m with her, she’s mine and only mine. Likewise, I will only be hers.
Marcella’s shoulders tense and her eyes darken, but she says nothing. I have the upper hand, and she knows it. I’ve heard she’s a control freak, so undermining her must irritate her.
Well, two can play that game. I can’t live with this woman without being able to take her when I want. Just sitting this close to her I have to cross my legs to hide my erection. As a studier of sex, she must notice what I’m feeling.
She sighs. “Agreed.”
Mrs. Dodds smiles. “If you’ll sign, I will pronounce you man and wife. All of your belongings, Mr. Carter, will be moved here in the morning.”
We sign and Dodds stands with a wink. “I’d tell you to kiss, but I think you’ll be up to more than that before the evening is out.”
She leaves, and we are left alone.
“Wine?” Marcella asks gesturing to the bottle on the table. She must have been indulging before I came in, but judging from what remains she hasn’t drunk more than half a glass.
She rises to get another glass, but I lean across the table and pick hers up, downing the remainder of her glass. Before she can get away, I grab her wrist.
“Sit.”
“I don’t take orders, Mr. Carter.”
“I respect that, but you can handle taking a few, Mrs. Carter.”
She balks and rips her hand away. “I am not Mrs. Carter. On paper maybe, but don’t let it go to your head. You work for me, no more.”
I’ve learned a lot over the last few weeks, and I plan to put the lessons to use.
Circling her waist with one arm, my other hand slides gently across her breast and down her stomach to the bow holding her robe shut. I pull her in front of me. She flinches but doesn’t step away.
What would make a madam turn down sex? Something traumatic? A fetish?
As her robe falls open, my previous thoughts desert me. She’s wearing a lacy thong that covers little, and her breasts, pale with perfect pink nipples, beckon to me.
She eyes me warily but doesn't stop me as I reach up and place one of her nipples between my fingers. They harden instantly, and she lets out a moan of pleasure as I roll it before moving to the other breast.
Replacing my fingers with my mouth, I lick the hard bud before sucking. She arches her back and throws her head back.
I continue to suck as my hand moves between her legs.
She grabs my wrist when I begin to slip her panties down her hips. “No. They stay on.”
“A little touch, though?” I ask. I’d take her on the couch, but it’s clear she’s not comfortable with that.
She nods, a blush creeping into her cheeks. A madam blushing? How odd? I’ve known since the moment I saw her that I want her. I’ll do anything to figure out her secrets.
Placing her hands on my shoulders, she bows to my fingers as I rub her clit through the thin fabric. To my surprise, she’s already wet.
My eyes fly to her face. I thought her hesitation might be because she wasn’t enjoying herself. That clearly isn’t the problem.
Her chest heaves, breasts bouncing up and down with each quick breath. Her legs stiffen, but before she can come, she pushes my hand away.
“N…Not yet. Please, Carter.”
I release her immediately, only hesitating long enough to kiss the apex of her thighs. She smells heavenly, sweet and inviting.
She pulls away. “Goodnight, Carter.”
Before she can go, I place her hand on my crotch against my erection. “This isn’t nothing to me, Marcella. I’m not going to push you. I know your experience with this sort of thing is far beyond mine. But I’m not touching you because it’s a one night stand for me or a four-month arrangement. You’re not just another pretty face. Don’t you feel what you’re doing to me?”
Her eyes are serious, but a small, shy smile lights her face. “I see.”
That’s all she’s going to say?
“I think you’re going to have a sleepless night unless I take care of your problem,” she continues.
My mind is so muddled with thoughts of her that I don’t know what she means at first.
She closes her robe and sinks to her knees. “Scoot to the edge of the couch.”
I do as she asks.
Unbuttoning my jeans, she slips a hand into my boxers and captures my manhood. As she rubs up and down, she says, “You weren’t kidding about my ability to affect you in your pants.”
I’d reply, but already my thoughts are running wild. Her blue eyes watch me, piercing into my soul. How has this woman captured me so easily and quickly?
Gripping the edge of the seat cushion, I let her work her magic, and before long I find release. It’s not nearly enough to quench what she does to me, but it’s a start.
Releasing me, she wipes my cum on my jeans. “I’m going to bed. You can share it with me, but no touching.”
She turns to go, but calls over her shoulder, “Maybe tomorrow I can show you what I can do with my mouth.”
Chapter 5. The Madam
What in possessed me to say that? I don’t want him to be intimate, but I keep flirting with him.
Or maybe I do miss the touch of a man, but refuse to admit it out of fear.
He doesn’t enter the bedroom until I’m finished in the bathroom and in bed. I’m used to sleeping naked, but with his presence, I feel the need to wear one of my silk nightgowns. The stupid thing confines me.
Crawling into bed beside me, he wraps an arm around my waist drawing my back flush against his chest.
I close my eyes and act as if I’m asleep.
A few minutes later, he presses his nose into my hair and whispers, “I will show you how much I care for you. You’ll see, Marcella.”
__________________________________________________
Someone’s shaking my shoulder
s. “Wake up.”
Slowly my eyes open to see Carter standing over me. It’s still dark out. “What is it?”
“You snore. Loudly.”
I roll onto my side. “Just how every girl imagines an awakening in the night.”
“You were mumbling something in your sleep too.”
“Sorry.” I have trouble sleeping sometimes. I’d have probably woken myself up soon if he hadn’t.
I plan to go back to sleep, but Carter has other ideas.
“I know what will help you sleep,” he says.
Crawling over me, he jerks back the covers and positions himself at the bottom of the bed resting on his knees. “Pull up your dress.”
I do as he asks, curious to see what he has in mind. He’s gloriously naked except for his boxers. How did he get a chest like that? His file says he doesn’t work out. It’s not a six pack, but damn, it’s close. What would he look like if he worked out?
My underwear comes off next, his nimble fingers brushing my hips and thighs as he takes them off and throws them over his shoulder onto the floor.
Grabbing my ankles, he spreads my legs wide. “You look stunning like this. Maybe you should walk around the apartment bare.”
He runs a hand over my clit, and I sigh softly. It feels so good. It’s all seems so wrong and yet so right.
I should stop him. I know one word, and he would leave me be as he did in the living room a few hours ago.
But I don’t want to stop him.
Instead, I slip my nightdress over my head, baring myself completely.
He grins but doesn’t say a word as he lowers between my legs and begins to explore my most sensitive area with his tongue.
It’s been so long since I’ve come for anyone that I stiffen almost immediately. I clutch the sheets and cry out, but Carter continues his exquisite torture.
He circles my clit over and over until finally, I shatter.
He continues to play with me until he sits up a minute or two later. “God, you taste good.”
I blush and pull him down beside me. “Should I take care of your needs now?”
His erection’s obvious through his boxers.
“I’ll take care of this problem. You sleep. Your needs come first.”