Shades Of Her

by Priya Grey

  When I buried my son, my life fell apart. I lost everything.

  Max’s medical bills amounted to several hundred thousand dollars. Shane paid every one of them, on one condition: He owned me until the debt was repaid.

  He owns my gym, and I have to fight in underground matches he promotes. He keeps all the earnings; I don’t see a dime. But that’s not where it ends.

  He also owns my body.

  Shane pimps me out through his website. Apparently, there’s a huge demand among rich LA women for former military men who are built like me. So, when I’m not training for the next fight, I’m on the clock fucking.

  I’m a whore. And Shane is my pimp.

  This was the deal I made with him in exchange for paying Max’s medical bills. To Shane, this is purely a business transaction. He needs to make back the money he loaned me. And the only thing I have of value is my gym and my body. In his view, this isn’t personal. It’s just business.

  I don’t know how much more of this I can take though. I’ve grown so numb to people, my surroundings…

  I’ve come close to killing myself on more than one occasion. I keep a handgun in the drawer of my nightstand. On two separate nights, I’ve placed the muzzle of that gun in my mouth and tried to pull the trigger. But both times, the realization that I’d be letting my son, Max, down stopped me from going through with it. I believe Max is in heaven looking down at me. And I know he’d be really disappointed in his father if he quit on life.

  But I’ll be honest, it’s getting harder for me to justify living in such a senseless world. What do I have to live for, anyway? I still have Layla, but I avoid seeing her and her family as much as possible. I just feel like my sad presence brings everyone down. I see the sadness in their eyes when I show up to their house and it reminds me of everything I’ve lost.

  I force myself to stop thinking about all this as I take the next exit off the freeway. I’m about to meet a client. I have to get in the mood to fuck. As I weave my beat up Corolla through the curvy Hollywood hills, I glance at the mansions lining the street. So this is how the other half live – in a world where money is never a concern, and the future is always bright from inside your hilltop mansion. Must be nice.

  The GPS tells me I’ve arrived at the address. I park my car.

  I still don’t know if I can go through with this tonight. I’m in such a sad, miserable state. But if I don’t, I’ll have to provide Shane an explanation. I don’t feel like dealing with that either. I take a deep breath and get out of my car.

  A full moon is shining in the night sky, casting shadows on the ground. I look at the modern mansion before me, overlooking LA. I make my way toward the gate. A red Volkswagen bug is parked down the street. It calls my attention because I can see the silhouette of someone inside the car. Looks like a guy with a beard. But it’s dark, so I’m not sure.

  I press the button on the intercom.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s me. Kade.”

  “It took you long enough. I almost changed my mind.”

  “Well, you’ll be glad you didn’t,” I respond. I hate talking like this. It’s not me. But I remind myself that Shane wants me to be friendly and upbeat, not such a downer.

  “Come around back. Don’t use the front door,” she says.

  The gates open and I walk up the driveway toward the house. I ring the backdoor, as instructed. As I wait, I remember the reason this woman chose me from the website: my haunted eyes. Well, if haunted is what she’s attracted to, she picked the right guy.

  The door unlocks.

  Melody

  As I wait for him to knock on my door, I realize what I am doing. I’m letting a complete stranger into my house. What if he’s a serial killer? Fuck, now I decide to worry about this? I’ve already let him through the gate and he’s walking to my door! I quickly run to the safe in my bedroom and punch in the code. I unlock it and take out a small handgun. I’ve never fired it. I purchased it three years ago when I found a deranged-looking thirty-year-old man waiting for me in my kitchen with flowers. He broke into my house. He said his name was James, said he loved me, and wanted us to get married. I talked calmly to James as I texted 911 on my phone. James is now locked up in some psych ward.

  My doorbell rings. I quickly slide open my nightstand drawer and place the gun inside. Now, it’s easily accessible if anything crazy happens. I’m about to step out of the bedroom when I realize I don’t have my mask on. I grab it and slip it on, then make sure it’s tightly fastened behind my head so it won’t slip. I check myself in the mirror. This white mask really makes me look like the Phantom of the Opera. I check my outfit. I’m wearing a long burgundy peasant skirt with a black tank top under a chambray shirt. For some strange reason, I hope this guy I’m paying to fuck me likes what I’m wearing. The doorbell rings again. I hurry out of the bedroom and toward the back door. Mingus runs after me the whole way. I realize he might be too much of a distraction, so I scoop him up and lock him in one of the bathrooms with a bowl of food and water.

  “This is only temporary, Mingus. I just can’t have you barking while I’m fucking. It’s a mood killer.”

  Mingus whimpers a reply as I close the bathroom door. The doorbell rings again.

  “I’m coming,” I shout. I scurry toward the back door. I take a deep breath and touch my white plastic mask one last time – just to make sure it hasn’t shifted. I don’t want my scars to scare him away.

  Finally, I open the door.

  He’s staring straight at me. Those dark, deep eyes set in a chiseled face. I scan his body.

  Damn, he is fine.

  He’s wearing a tight black t-shirt and worn out blue jeans. It’s a simple ensemble but one that highlights his perfect physique. This dude is rock solid: muscular, tattooed arms, strong thighs and legs. And his face: gorgeous – like it’s been chiseled out of marble as some sculptor’s idea of what the perfect man should look like. He has dark hair and full lips. But it’s those damn eyes that really draw me in. They’re so intense, brimming with emotion. Then I notice the surprised look on his face. It’s my mask. I’ve caught him off guard. I didn’t warn him beforehand. I touch the mask gently with my hand. I’m about to comment on it but struggle with what to say.

  So I say nothing.

  We stare at each other in silence. I sense he’s trying to figure out what kind of weird shit he signed up for. He gives me a slight nod and tries to smile, but I can tell it doesn’t come naturally to him.

  “Sorry, it took me a bit,” he says. “I don’t live anywhere near your neighborhood.”

  I hear the sadness in his voice. He’s trying to hide it. But if you listen closely, you can sense it in the few words he just uttered.

  It’s been so long since I’ve had a man like this in my presence. Scratch that. I’ve never had a man as impressive as him stare at me before. And wearing this mask, I suddenly feel really foolish.

  This was a mistake. But I’ve already opened the door. I have to let him in now. I take a deep breath and try to steady my nerves.

  “Please come in,” I say as I open the door wider so he can pass through.

  I inhale as he walks past me. Damn… I’ve missed the scent of a man. And this guy, Kade, smells good, like the outdoors, woodsy but mixed with spice. I feel myself getting woozy from his presence. I convince myself it’s because of him and not the vodka tonics I’ve had throughout the night.

  He turns around and faces me, his hands in his jean pockets. He gives a quick glance around the place and shrugs.

  “Nice place,” he remarks, but I can tell by the way he says it that he doesn’t really care.

  “Thanks.”

  We stand still, staring at each other again, saying nothing. Those eyes. I see an intense storm brewing in them. He’s on the edge of something. Something deep and sorrowful. His energy might be dark and mysterious but it’s also strangely comforting. My attraction toward him escalates. I can’t explain why.

  “I sho
uld have warned you,” I say.

  “About?”

  “The mask.”

  He shrugs. “Whatever makes you comfortable is fine with me.”

  He keeps staring at me, and I realize if I’m going to go through with this, I should warn him about the scars on my body too.

  “I had an accident,” I say. “I have scars. All over my body. Including my face. I should have warned you over the phone.” I take another deep breath. “If you want to cancel this meeting, I understand.”

  He ponders what I said, and I’m suddenly racked with nerves. I realize I don’t want him to go. In the few seconds he’s been in my home, I’ve felt the air shift around me. His dark, soulful presence is astonishing. It pulls me in, like the force of a magnet. And up close, he looks even hotter than his picture. Even though I’m nervous about it, I know I just have to see what he looks like underneath those clothes. I have to see him naked.

  But I can’t blame him if he doesn’t want to have sex with my scar-covered body. I really should have mentioned it over the phone when I was talking to him. Now it’s awkward.

  “Will it hurt? If I touch you?” he asks. I notice the concerned tone in his voice. I wasn’t expecting it.

  I shake my head. Then quickly make sure my mask hasn’t shifted. “No,” I say. “It won’t hurt. But there are scars everywhere.”

  He shrugs. “I’m fine with it, if you are?” he says. “I just want to know if I need to be gentle.”

  Another long moment of silence. We keep staring at each other. His dark gaze is so intense. It’s mesmerizing.

  “Please don’t be gentle,” I confide. “I’m not that type of girl.”

  Did I just say that? I guess it’s the vodka talking, but it’s true.

  Physical sex – the unbridled, no-holds barred kind – is what I prefer. Tonight will test whether my body can handle it after the accident.

  “Good to know,” he replies. After a pause, he admits with a shrug, “I’m not really the slow and romantic type.”

  Our eyes meet again and my body begins to tingle. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the excited rush of sexual energy run through my veins.

  “Do you want anything to drink?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No thanks.”

  “Are you in training? Your profile said you’re a fighter.”

  He nods. “Yeah. I fight underground.”

  “What makes it underground?”

  “No rules.”

  “Sounds dangerous.”

  “Can be,” he says with a shrug.

  This Kade isn’t much of a talker, but I don’t care. I didn’t hire him for that. I hired him to fuck me. And I get the impression he knows what he’s doing in that department.

  “Is this going to be your first time since the accident?” he asks.

  I nod slowly.

  “Well, I hope I can make it memorable,” he says.

  I smirk behind the mask. “Trust me, looking the way you do, I don’t think it will be an issue.”

  I’m feeling bolder now, more comfortable. My attraction to this guy is growing with each passing second. And my sexual desire is coming back to life.

  “Well, I’m here to please you,” he says with another shrug, “Your satisfaction is guaranteed. If you don’t like anything I do, just let me know.” He pauses then says, “And if you want to take off that mask so you’re comfortable –”

  I raise my hand, cutting him off.

  “You don’t want to see what I look like underneath this thing.” I touch the mask with my fingers. “You’d cringe, and it would ruin an already awkward encounter.”

  There’s a pause, then he asks, “Why is this awkward?”

  “Well, because of this mask,” I confess.

  He nods and looks at the ground. He’s pondering what I just said. Then he looks at me. Staring straight into my eyes, he takes a few steps forward. I feel a nervous rush of excitement shoot through me. He begins to echo the words from our phone conversation. “I thought you called me because you wanted to get fucked. Wanted to feel my hands over your skin, my cock deep inside of you. Isn’t that right?”

  He moves in closer and my skin grows heated from his presence.

  “That’s right,” I tell him.

  He shrugs. “Well, that has nothing to do with how you look.” He’s even closer now. His voice turns into a whisper as he stares into me. “That’s about our bodies colliding. The skin is just surface. Everything below it is what matters.”

  I inhale deeply; he’s so close. “You smell good.”

  I’m hypnotized by his presence; by the way he looks at me. For a brief moment, he’s made me feel like I’m not wearing a mask. I know he’s probably putting on an act – his job is pleasuring people after all – but I appreciate what he just said. I’m happy with my decision. I’ve chosen the perfect man to have sex with since the accident. But before we go any further, I need to make sure of something.

  “You won’t tell anyone will you?”

  He’s surprised by my question. “What do you mean? About us?”

  I nod.

  “I don’t even know your name,” he confides with a slight smirk. “Are you famous?”

  I slowly nod. “I used to be.”

  He shrugs, takes another deep look at me and says, “Nobody will know.”

  Although I’ve just met him, I sense that I can trust him.

  I lead him toward my bedroom, still surprised by how nervous I feel. Can I really go through with this? Have him see my naked body – the jumbled clutter of scars? Sure, a lot of the damage from the fire has been repaired. But there are still so many imperfections.

  “Is that a dog?”

  I turn around. Mingus is whimpering from inside the bathroom we just passed.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to let him out?” he asks.

  “He’s a puppy,” I respond. “I just got him. I’m worried he might ruin the mood, you know?”

  He looks at me a little surprised. “You’re locking your puppy in a bathroom when you live in a house of this size?”

  I don’t know what to say. He’s right. Mingus deserves to be treated better. “You’re right. I’m being ridiculous.”

  I open the bathroom door. Mingus scrambles out and starts circling Kade’s feet. Kade’s face breaks into a grin as he looks at the puppy. He bends down and picks Mingus up. Mingus happily licks his face. Kade smiles – a real big smile, and the first I’ve seen from him. It shatters the somber presence he had earlier. His smile looks so genuine, so sincere. My attraction to him grows tenfold.

  I really want to fuck this guy.

  “Hey, little fella,” Kade says to Mingus as the puppy continues licking his face. The tough exterior I saw when I first opened the door has vanished. I’m now staring at a gorgeous, well-built man holding a puppy. Kade’s warmth and friendliness is palpable. “What’s his name?” he asks, turning to me, smiling.

  “Mingus,” I reply, still shocked by his change in demeanor.

  “After the jazz musician?”

  I’m surprised he guessed right. Charles Mingus was an old-school jazz musician from the fifties and sixties.

  “Yeah,” I say with a nod.

  “Cool.” Kade raises Mingus and looks into his puppy eyes. “You’ve got a cool name after a cool dude, buddy.” Mingus returns the compliment by lathering Kade’s face with his tongue. Kade chuckles and lowers Mingus to the floor. When he straightens up, our eyes meet. I feel an electric shock. That’s what his gaze does to me. It’s like sex lightning!

  I take a deep breath to calm myself and continue walking toward the bedroom; Mingus follows close behind.

  It’s been so long since I’ve had a man in my company – since I’ve felt a masculine presence in my home. I miss it. And even if I have to pay for it, I’ll treasure it tonight.

  When I get to the door, I turn around. “Okay, he can’t follow us into the bedroom.”

  Kade looks down at the puppy an
d shrugs. “Sorry dude, she’s the boss.”

  Mingus whimpers as we close the bedroom door on him. Once inside my room, I walk over to the stereo and put on music – to drown Mingus’s whimpers from the hallway.

  “In This Special Place,” says Kade, recognizing the song.

  “One of my favorite albums,” I reply.

  “Good fucking music, that’s for sure,” he says with an appreciative nod.

  As the music fills the room, we stare at each other silently.

  “So, how should we do this?” I ask, feeling a nervous knot in my stomach start to grow.

  He takes a few slow steps forward.

  “Would you feel more comfortable with the lights turned off?” he asks.

  I nod gratefully. He walks over to the light switch and flicks it off. The moonlight streaming in through my bedroom window is now the only source of illumination. My guard comes down as comfort seeps in.

  “Let’s start off slow,” he says as he returns to where I’m standing. “Why don’t you just lay back on the bed and let me do all the work.”

  I like the sound of that. I take a seat on the bed and look up at him. Kade slowly slips off his t-shirt. I practically drool over the muscles rippling in his stomach then admire his chiseled chest. I haven’t felt the hard body of a man in so long. He unbuckles his belt.

  The nervous knot in my stomach eases and my body begins tingling with anticipation of what’s to come.

  Kade kicks off his chucks and pulls down his jeans. The only thing standing between his cock and me are a pair of white boxer briefs. My excitement grows. As I admire the tattoos running up his arms, I notice the portrait of a young boy tattooed on Kade’s chest. The boy is smiling, a wide happy grin. I’m about to compliment the artwork, but then Kade steps toward me.

  I notice his cock shift under his briefs. He reaches and pulls down his boxers. My heart catches in my throat at the sight of his impressive manhood. Instantly, my sex pulsates with need. Any hesitation I had disappears at the sight of his gorgeous cock.

  I haven’t been properly fucked in what feels like forever. I want it badly. I eagerly take his shaft in my hand, tugging on it. It grows harder with my caress. I raise my eyes and look up at Kade.