It was clear that I didn’t understand men as well as I should, being one myself. When you had a woman as attractive as that at home, who was willing and eager and didn’t lack for skills in bed, why wouldn’t you want her? It may seem a bit hypocritical of me to praise the virtues of marital sex, given my main career choice, but that was because I was single. If I was married to a woman with sex appeal like Ava, I’d be giving her my full attention on a regular basis, multiple times daily. I buttoned up my jacket and sighed. It had been nine months since I’d last given my full attention to a woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had plenty of client appointments in the last nine months, my calendar was always full such was my reputation for being the best in the industry, but they were duties to be fulfilled; a job in exchange for financial reward. They didn’t get my full attention, nor should they, or what would I have left for my private life? I laughed again, what private life? I didn’t have one. No, the last time I’d been fully in the moment with a woman, was with my virgin for the night appointment with Summer Beresford.
Damn it. Nine months, nine bloody months and I still couldn’t get that damn woman out of my head. Her booking hadn’t just been about me performing a service for monetary reward. She’d got to me in ways no other woman ever had, not even in my sorely lacking personal life outside of “the job.” She’d made me feel, care and want to protect. I could really fall for her in real life. I shook my head with a wry smile. Who the fuck was I kidding? I had really fallen for her, and the real kicker? She hadn’t had a damn clue. She assumed all my words and actions were just Logan Steele, experienced hired seductor of women doing what she’d paid him to do. I’d tried to forget about her, even deleted her client file and blocked her email, just in case she tried to book me again. Never get emotionally attached to a client was my main mantra, one I’d seriously fucked up the day I accepted her booking. The trouble was, her debut movie was having its premiere in Leicester Square next Saturday night and everywhere I looked, there she was; magazine covers, interviews on the television, billboards, even on the damn radio. I couldn’t forget her even if I wanted to. I even had a moment of weakness and had driven to where she lived and parked up the street, sitting in my car for an hour while I argued with myself as to whether to knock on her door, before mentally slapping myself and roaring off. I was the guy she paid to fuck her, nothing more. No woman in their right mind would want to date a guy with my background. I slipped my phone into my trouser pocket as the intercom buzzed and headed out to meet my driver, James. It was time to put my game face on.
‘Evening, Sir. How are you?’
‘Excellent, thank you, James. You?’
‘I can’t complain,’ he smiled, as he held the back door open for me and I slid inside. He started the engine and pulled out before speaking again. ‘Are we picking up Mr. Douglas on the way, or is he meeting us there?’
‘Meeting us there,’ I nodded. ‘I didn’t think it would do my reputation any good, if I was caught booking into a hotel suite with another man.’ I flashed him a smile in the rear view mirror and he chuckled.
‘No, I suppose it wouldn’t. Unless, of course, you were thinking of branching out?’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ I retorted quickly. I’d booked Trey Douglas for tonight, another up-and-coming male escort, nearly as well hung as I was. He had that blond haired, blue-eyed, baby face look going on, that a lot of women seemed drawn too. He was only twenty one and eager to learn, so I’d taken him under my wing and had been advising him, giving him some tips and techniques, without giving away all of my of secrets of course. He was my go to guy for a ménage scenario. I’d made it clear from the beginning that I was in charge, I called the shots and if he tried to poach one of my clients, I’d blacklist him. He’d also received fair warning that he would receive a black eye, or worse, if I felt a hand, tongue or any other appendage anywhere on my anatomy. He looked mortified. He was as into women as I was and it made our sessions a whole lot more relaxed that we knew we were both there to focus on the woman and not on each other.
‘I left your overnight bag in your suite and the morning after gift box you prepared for Mrs. Renshaw, with her toiletries and fresh lingerie, as usual.’
‘Excellent, thank you, James.’
‘I notice that you’ve not booked The Dalton Hotel for a while, Sir,’ James observed.
‘No,’ I replied, as my lips curled into a smile. James might be an ex-marine, trained to be sneaky and covert, on top of deadly, but he was never subtle when it came to trying to push me in a certain direction.
‘May I ask the reason?’
‘I think that’s a rhetorical question, as you already know the reason, James.’
‘Well of course I do, I just wondered if you did,’ he smiled. I shook my head. Between him and my best friend they seemed determined to force me to deal with my inappropriate feelings for Summer. The Dalton Hotel had always been my go to hotel in London for clients, unless their fantasy didn’t involve a hotel bed, but since that night with Summer, I couldn’t bring myself to take anyone else there. Like fucking someone else in the bed where we’d first made love, where I’d first made love instead of just fucking, would dilute those memories I had left of the best night of my damn life.
‘Then let’s just leave it that we both do then, shall we?’ I replied.
‘Didn’t mean to overstep, Sir.’
‘Please, I thought you were taught better poker face skills than that in the military,’ I laughed.
‘You don’t like her enough to pursue her?’
‘She doesn’t like me enough to be pursued.’
‘And how would you know if you haven’t tried? In order to fail at something, one must first attempt to succeed.’
‘Watch out, James. They’ll be building some Tibetan temple and a bronze statue of you somewhere, for people to worship at if you carry on with pearls of wisdom like that.’
‘Are you calling me a fat Buddha, Sir?’
‘No one in their right mind would dare to, with your combat training,’ I grinned. ‘Miss Beresford is too nice for the likes of me, James. She’s pure and innocent and a man like me would only corrupt and taint her.’
‘I thought you’d already … tainted her, Sir,’ James coughed. ‘Besides, wouldn’t it be better for her to be with a decent, honourable man like you, than someone else who may not place her welfare as their top priority?’
‘And what makes you think I’m the sort of man to do that?’ I enquired with a raised brow.
‘You wouldn’t be so busy in your evening profession if you weren’t, Sir,’ he replied. ‘I also know that Mr. Davenport wouldn’t hold you in such high esteem if you weren’t a good man. He’s a very good judge of character. Any man he calls a best friend is an honest, decent man.’
I smiled. James was shrewd; he saw right through me. I looked out of the window and frowned. Thinking about her with someone else slayed me, but she did deserve better than me. She deserved someone without my rather chequered past and present. A woman would never be able to trust me if she knew my history. One day, when I was ready to quit this lifestyle and just focus on my physical training clients, or even take up my best friend’s offer of a management job in his own firm, then I could think about finding a girl to go steady with. But my days as an escort were going to have to stay firmly buried, if I stood a chance with anyone.
Trey Douglas
I sat in the black taxi and ran a finger along the inside of my black shirt collar and undid another button. I was so excited to have been approached by Logan again. We’d worked together on a number of occasions and each time he taught me something new. I’d been a typical cocky, arrogant twenty year old when we first crossed paths, thinking, given my age, my stamina would outlast his, I’d been sorely mistaken. The man would put any Iron Man contestant in the shade. He had taken pity on me and told me that every escort had to start somewhere and if I’d follow instructions on any bookings, he would be happy to let me learn from him. That
just showed his self-confidence. Any other male escort would be threatened by a newbie on the scene, not Logan. He’d already taught me so much in the art of seducing a woman, rather than charging in and pounding them hell for leather. He had told me some story about a tortoise and a hare; that had gone in one ear and out of the other. What didn’t pass straight through were the tips and pointers he gave me. I watched him with an eagle eye when he was one-on-one with a client and I was taking a back seat, anything to improve my technique, to make me as good as him.
It was lucky that my cock wasn’t adversely affected being overshadowed by his. I’d never questioned my size, in fact Logan was the first guy I had seen better hung than me. That may give some guys a complex, but I was made of stronger stuff than that. Large as we were, I was sure there were guys out there even bigger; there was always someone higher up the food chain. Besides, if either of us were any more stacked, I doubted women would want to fuck us for free, let alone to pay for it. One particularly tight girlfriend I’d been with had to have stitches, as well as carry around a rubber ring to sit on for a week, after our first time. From that moment on, I always made sure my kit contained plenty of lubricant, as well as condoms. I looked at the client file that Logan had sent over to me, to familiarise myself with the plan for tonight and had to double-check the age of the woman in the picture. No way was she forty-five. She looked in her early to mid-thirties, if that. Talk about a hot cougar.
I want a ménage for the night. Two men, not another woman and I don’t want it to be sleazy, rough or dirty. I want something gentle, sexy and sensual. I’m not averse to being penetrated while I have another in my mouth, but while I love the idea, I’m not sure I could cope with double penetration.
I nodded, this was new. I’d never done a romantic soft ménage before, always rough, raw and hard. Logan was the master at seduction though. Then again he was the master in any situation, I’d have to take my cues from him tonight. He’d instructed me to dress smart casual, which to Logan meant a suit no tie. I was to take a seat at the bar, while he met the client at the other end and then I was to follow them up to the suite, without making it obvious we were together. One night’s cut from Logan was more than I could earn on my own in probably five sessions or more and I needed the money. I wasn’t just in this for the sex, much as I loved it. I had got into masses of debt at University, too interested in partying hard instead of getting a job. I’d also pretty much flunked out, which had been a serious wake up call. I wasn’t unintelligent, just damn lazy, preferring alcohol and women to studying, a choice I now regretted when I realised my career aspirations had been dashed without the first class honours degree I’d needed. Sex was the only way I could see of making myself enough money to pay off my debts and to try and start my studies again. A few good years at this would set me back on the straight and narrow. It would be great to command the sort of respect, reputation and fees Logan did. I could pick and choose assignments around my degree coursework and not have to fuck women I found it hard to get hard for. The phrase ‘lie back and think of England’ seemed apt for me, only I didn’t have the luxury of lying back.
I paid the taxi driver and strode through the revolving doors, nodded at the doorman and made my way to the bar as instructed. Ever the professional, Logan was already there, seated at the far end, dressed in a light grey suit, white shirt and dark grey tie. He gave me a discreet nod as he picked up his drink of choice; water, no ice with lime, and took a swig. In the past I’d ordered non-alcoholic beer while on a job, but Logan had told me that the smell of beer on a man’s breath was off putting to some women, so I should stick to water or something sweet, like lemonade, to leave no lingering odour or flavours. I didn’t smoke either. Men were as objectified by women nowadays, as women were by men. We had to stay in great shape and let’s face it, who wanted to be shown up by Logan bloody Steele? Man of Steele more like. If Logan had auditioned for Superman, Henry Cavill would have been out of a job. The only thing in my favour was my blond haired, blue-eyed looks that some women went crazy over. At least that differentiated me from him.
I ordered a sparkling water with ice and lemon and took a seat as I checked my watch. Ten minutes until she was due to arrive. I felt my cock twitch; the thought of having a woman that fit for her age was one hell of a turn on. Then again, at my age, anything was a turn on. Everything reminded me of sex. I was a constant walking erection, at risk of breaking my cock by walking into tables or doors. My aroused state didn’t go unnoticed by a group of girls in the bar, who were giggling and playing eye tennis between Logan and me. I caught his eye and saw his lips lift at the corners, as he shook his head. He was used to all the attention; it was like water off a duck’s back. I on the other hand, loved it. I reached down, draping my hand between my legs and squeezed myself slowly as I held one of the girls’ gaze, smirking as she choked on her cocktail and went red. If I’d not been working, she’d have been just my type and I might have booked a room, just to invite her up.
Ava Renshaw
‘Mrs. Renshaw? May I come in? I have a delivery for you.’
‘Of course,’ I called, as I sat at my dressing table and applied my mascara. I turned and smiled as Anne, our housekeeper, entered the master bedroom with a large white box tied with a red ribbon.
‘A gift from Mr. Renshaw?’ she enquired, as she placed it on the bed.
‘Quite possibly,’ I nodded, as I tried to keep my cheeks from flushing as I lied. I knew that it was from Logan. I’d had them from him before.
‘What time will you be home tonight? Will you want anything making?’
‘That’s so kind of you, but I’ll be fine, Anne. I may be very late, in fact, I may stay out for the night.’
‘Going dancing again with the girls,’ she nodded with a grin.
‘You’re too observant,’ I replied with a smile, feeling awful that I had to keep up this deception. She was a good woman and I detested lies, but sometimes they were a necessity. ‘Enjoy a night off, Anne. You deserve it.’
‘And you deserve to have some fun. I don’t know how you cope with Mr. Renshaw being away so often. If that was my husband I wouldn’t be as tolerant.’
‘It’s his job. I knew that when we got married. He works hard and provides well for me, I can’t complain.’
‘You’re too nice,’ she retorted with raised brows as she made her way over to the door. ‘Enjoy your night out.’
‘I will,’ I nodded, not lying this time. Enjoying a night with Logan Steele came with a guarantee. I sighed as she closed the door behind her and put my head in my hands. I’d never wanted to be the sort of woman who cheated on her husband, yet while David was the perfect provider, he was lacking in so many other ways. I felt like I was just a façade, the pretty wife who could attend his finance functions and stuffy dinners, someone to look good on his arm and be able to hold intelligent conversations about the state of the markets, political affairs and current world news. I should have known when our sex life was less than inspiring during those earlier years, that he was never going to be the passionate man I craved. He was good looking, charming and attentive while he was pursuing me, and initially sex hadn’t been too bad, but it had rapidly fizzled out the higher up the ranks he rose. He rarely spent any time with me. When he did I felt like I was with a stranger and he tried to make up for his absences with a new shiny bauble. I had an entire section of my dressing room given up to jewellery boxes and drawers. Beautiful as they were, I’d give up all of them, all of his wealth and trappings, if it meant I could be the object of his affection, for him to crave me, to not be able to get enough of me. I knew I paid Logan to be that way with me, but I’d never felt more needed or desirable, than those sessions with him. Not since I was a teenager and fell in love with my best friend.
I stood up, sliding my dressing gown off my shoulders, looking at my naked body in the mirror. I was in great shape for my age. We never had children. Even if he’d wanted children, the lack of sex would have made tha
t impossible. It had to have been eighteen months since he last mounted me. And I use the term mounted for a reason. He was drunk and I was there. He didn’t want me. I could have actually been anyone. A couple of thrusts and it was over, then I had to roll him off me when he’d promptly fallen asleep, oblivious to my lack of orgasm and tears. I’d forgotten what sex could actually be like, until one of my friends had convinced me to email Logan three years ago. My night with him had been an eye-opener, in more ways than one. I was even beginning to question David’s sexuality; maybe he was gay and he’d only married me for appearances. All I knew was that I was a sexual woman and I was severely lacking. There was only so much a whole drawer of sex toys could give you. Nothing could replicate a passionate kiss, skin on skin, the heat generated between two bodies. I knew, given that I was paying for sex every few months, my logic was slightly flawed, even more hypocritical, but by paying Logan I felt the betrayal was slightly lessened. I wasn’t having an ongoing affair. I wasn’t mentally or emotionally cheating. It was purely physical. Something to scratch that unbearable itch every few months, an itch my husband should be scratching. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried talking to him about it; every time I told him I was unhappy he would just buy me more jewels and I’d end up buying another vibrator.
I headed over to the bed, undid the red ribbon and lifted the lid of the box and smiled. Logan was always classy with his deliveries. Wrapped in tissue paper was a beautiful red satin bra, the cups of which were linked with pearls, then I caught my breath as I picked up the matching red and pearl thong and felt myself clench at the thought of the cool beads against my hot flesh. I carefully stepped into it, shimmied it up and flexed my hips as the pearls nestled into place. Damn it, Logan. I’d never worn a pearl thong. What was he trying to do to me? Have me come as I walked into the bar? I did up the bra, never questioning how he knew my size. Logan was a consummate professional; he knew everything he needed to know, for any occasion. I nodded approvingly at the knee-length red lace dress with long sleeves, surprisingly demure yet sexy at the same time and sat on the bed to do up the red high-heeled shoes. I guessed red was a colour of passion and desire, quite apt given my fantasy tonight.
For the Night - Complete Box Set Page 19