by Alexa Land
Finn caressed my skin for a few minutes, exploring my arms, back and shoulders before asking, “Is it okay if I kiss you?” When I nodded and looked up at him, his lips met mine. The kiss was so tender. God it felt good. I felt myself relaxing in his embrace.
Abruptly, I jumped off his lap and stepped back from him, mumbling, “I need to use the bathroom.”
I hated the fact that he made me want to lower my guard. That sent up an entire battalion of red flags. When the bathroom door was locked behind me, I leaned against the sink and took a few deep breaths. Then I stared at my reflection, muttering, “Get it together, Chance.”
This was a well-paying gig and I needed to get back out there and give the customer what he wanted. After a minute, I flushed the toilet to sell my lie and fixed a neutral expression on my face. Finn was leaning against the headboard with his knees bent, a little worry line between his eyebrows when I returned to bed. “You okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “Do you want me back on your lap?”
“Yes please.” I straddled him and he put his arms around me. When he kissed me, it seemed more urgent, like it was getting him worked up instead of just kissing for its own sake, so it was easier to go with it. I rocked my hips slightly, rubbing myself against the bulge in his jeans and hoped that didn’t cross the line in terms of initiating anything.
Finn seemed to like what I was doing and moaned against my mouth as his hands glided down my back. He held my hips and pushed up a little, rubbing his cock against mine. I started to get hard and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, letting my eyes close as his tongue slid between my lips.
After a while, he pulled off his t-shirt and fumbled with his belt as his nerves geared up again. Eventually he got his clothes off, then reached for the box of condoms and knocked them on the floor. Once he retrieved them, his hands were shaking so hard that he had trouble getting the box open.
I took it from his hands and said, “Some men enjoy it when I put the condom on for them. Would you like me to do that for you?” Okay, so I was once again violating the taking charge rule, but the poor guy obviously needed some assistance.
Finn nodded, his voice gravelly when he whispered, “Thanks.”
I tore open a condom and rolled it down over his shaft, then grabbed the lube and peeled off the seal. I drizzled some over the condom and stroked him to slick him up. His cock pulsed in my hand. “How do you want me?” I asked.
“I...um....” He stared at me for a moment, then stammered, “What are my choices? I mean, it’s not like I’ve never watched porn or anything. It’s just really hard to think right now.”
Oh yeah. Definite first-timer. I said, “Do you want me on my back facing you, or on my knees facing away?” No need to complicate things with the full menu.
“Facing me, please.” I got on my back and spread my legs for him, rubbing the leftover lube onto my opening. “Do we…I mean, aren’t we supposed to do something to prepare you?” he asked.
I shook my head and said quietly, “I already have lube in me. I don’t need anything else.”
A sheen of nervous perspiration dampened his forehead and his chest rose and fell rapidly as he knelt between my legs and took hold of his cock. He positioned it at my hole and pushed into me carefully. His nervousness was replaced by an expression of pure bliss as he bottomed out in me. “You feel amazing,” he said, and then he started to move in me.
I liked watching him as he began to gain confidence in what he was doing. A little smile played around his full lips, and when he locked eyes with me, it got a lot bigger. Gradually his thrusts sped up, instinct replacing overthinking.
It didn’t take him long to cum. He cried out and pushed into me as deep as he could. His arms went around me and he held me to him as he rode out his orgasm. When he finished and started to pull out of me, I reached down quickly and held the condom to the base of his cock. He took hold of it when he realized what I was doing and eased out slowly. “Be right back,” he said, rolling out of bed and grabbing his boxer briefs from the floor as he headed to the bathroom.
I turned off the overhead light, leaving the room lit only by a small lamp on the nightstand, and curled up beneath the thick blanket. The bed was comfortable and the crisp, clean sheets smelled so good. I rubbed my cheek against the pillow and closed my eyes.
He was gone for a while, and I started to drift off. When the mattress creaked beneath Finn’s weight, I gasped and started to sit up. He drew me into his arms and said softly, “Go back to sleep, Chance.”
“Can’t. You paid for the whole night,” I mumbled.
“I paid to sleep with you, not just have sex. I’ve been looking forward to this part almost as much as what we just did,” he said as he settled in.
After a couple minutes, he said quietly, “I always thought it’d be so nice to spend the night with a beautiful guy in my arms, and I was right. You feel incredibly good.”
“You feel good, too,” I said softly.
“Can we do this again on Thursday?” he asked. “That’s my next night off.”
“All night again?”
“Yeah, if you can.”
“Sure.”
“Great. Meet me here at ten. I’ll come early and check in, then I’ll call you with the room number.”
“Okay.”
Finn drifted off a few minutes later, and I tilted my head back and watched him as he slept. He had to be in the closet. It was the only explanation for his inexperience, or why he’d turn to a prostitute in the first place. Any man with that face and body would be able to find a sex partner within ninety seconds of setting foot in any gay bar in the city.
I was surprised he wanted to meet again so soon. That was a hell of a lot of money. Actually, he’d probably cancel after he came down off his sex high and realized the expense involved. Two thousand bucks in one week on a cop’s salary was pretty steep. More than two thousand, actually, since he was also springing for a decent hotel room. But if he did go through with it, that was great news for me. It would actually put me ahead for once, and I’d be able to build up my savings a bit.
I reached across him and turned off the little lamp on the nightstand, and he snuggled against me. I’d assumed I wouldn’t be able to sleep in the same room as a stranger, but instead, I found it surprisingly easy to relax. Finn seemed trustworthy, and the fact that we knew some of the same people was reassuring.
I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy how good this felt. I knew I shouldn’t, but I did it anyway. I was going to have to get it together though, if this guy became a regular. It was so important for me to maintain a lot of detachment on the job. That was what made it possible to do the things I did. I reminded myself, it’s just my body, the job can’t touch my soul. I’d told myself that a million times in the early days.
I’d started turning tricks as a fourteen-year-old runaway. It was the only way I could survive. Besides, my innocence had already been taken from me by that point, so what difference did it make? At twenty-six, I was still selling my body, but I didn’t feel any of the things I used to in the early days, the fear and hopelessness and heartbreak. I didn’t feel much of anything at all.
Chapter Five
When I awoke the next morning, I was alone in the hotel room. Finn had left a note, written on the little notepad by the phone. It said simply, thank you. For such a big guy, his handwriting was surprisingly small and tidy.
I still had some time before checkout, so I took a long, hot shower and used the nice soap and shampoo that came with the room. They smelled like oranges. After that I got dressed in my clothes from the night before and used the plastic comb I kept in my jacket pocket.
By the time I rode home on the bus, it was almost noon. I barely recognized the slender guy exiting through the metal security door as I walked up to my apartment building, and I greeted my friend with, “Hey, Zachary.”
He looked surprised to see me. His hair had been dyed golden blond, and he was dressed in a nice, dark
blue suit, white dress shirt and a light blue tie. He managed to pull off the confidence and aloof detachment that rich people gave off effortlessly. “Hey. Are you just getting in?” he asked.
“Yeah. I had an overnighter. I don’t get too many of those.”
“With one of your regular clients?”
“No, a new one.”
Zachary frowned a little. “You spent the night with someone you just met? Sounds like an awesome way to get murdered in your sleep.”
“It was fine. I obviously lived to tell about it.” I said that lightly, but my friend’s frown deepened.
Instead of berating me for my lackluster personal safety efforts, Zachary shifted his weight from one foot to the other and said, “I’m sorry about the other night. I hate it when I get needy like that. It sucks.”
“There’s no need to apologize.”
He glanced at the cab that had pulled up at the curb. “I gotta go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay.”
Zachary slipped on a pair of sunglasses, which added to the rich kid vibe he had going on. He hesitated, then said, “Thanks for putting up with me. I know I act like an idiot sometimes.”
“You don’t, but even if you did, I’d still love you.” He grinned embarrassedly and started to walk over to the cab, and I called, “Hey.” When he glanced at me over his shoulder I said with a grin, “Be sure to report back about whether blonds really do have more fun.” It was a dumb thing to say, but it made him smile, and that had been the whole point.
Once in my apartment, I took the little envelope from my pocket and looked around for a hiding place. I was always worried about break-ins and that was a lot of money. I ended up pouring the last of some instant oats into a bowl and stashing the envelope inside the empty cardboard canister, which I put back in the cupboard.
After I made my breakfast, I carried the oatmeal over to my bed and perched on the edge of the mattress. I’d added some brown sugar and a few raisins, using them both up since I’d just gotten a big payday and would be able to restock my cupboard. They made the oatmeal seem like a special treat. I ate slowly, just like every meal, savoring each bite. When breakfast was finished, I returned to my kitchenette and washed my dish, then looked around me.
The little studio was quiet and lonely, but I had a solution for that. I retrieved the paperback I’d been reading, then remembered something and pulled a slip of paper from my wallet, which I slid between the pages as a bookmark. It wasn’t every day someone wrote me a thank you note, and something had made me want to hang on to it.
Soon I was lost in the pages of the book. I had an inexplicable love of detective novels from the 1920s to the 1950s, and had found a used bookstore that sometimes had them in their three-for-a-dollar bin. I stopped by often. Most days, I found nothing. But every once in a while, I went home with an armload of books. Those days felt like Christmas.
I’d been reading for about an hour when my phone jingled on the end table. Reluctantly, I tore myself away from Los Angeles, 1939, and looked at the caller ID. “Hey Jessie,” I said after putting the call on speaker.
“Hi Chance. Got a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“Nana’s starting a project and needs a photographer. You were the first person she thought of. She wants to put together a cookbook as a tie-in to her cable TV cooking show and needs someone to take pictures of the finished dishes, plus step-by-step how-to photos. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”
“Yeah, that sounds—”
Before I could finish my sentence, Jessie swore and the phone hit the ground with a clatter. In the background, I could hear him yelling, “No, Tom Selleck! Down!” I had to grin at that. Nana had adopted a big mutt of some sort, and named him that because he was, according to her, ‘such a handsome boy’. She never failed to put a smile on my face.
When Jessie picked up the phone again, he said, “You still there?”
“Yup.”
“Sorry about that. All of a sudden, the puppy has discovered his sex drive. He’s humping everything! Nana even had him fixed, and it didn’t help at all. In the last couple days, the dog has decided I’m way more interesting than pillows or stuffed animals, which were what he was sexually molesting before he decided I was his type. I keep trying to explain to him that I just want to be friends, but there really is no reasoning with a horny puppy.”
I chuckled at that and said, “Wow. You need hazard pay.”
“I just need to remember to stay vigilant. I hadn’t been paying attention and was leaning on the kitchen counter, and all of a sudden it was like dropping the bar of soap in a prison shower. Anyway, now I’m locked in the downstairs bathroom, so Tommy will just have to go off and do unspeakable things to the Tickle Me Elmo doll he found in one of the closets.”
I smiled at that and tried to steer the conversation back on track by saying, “So, the project sounds great. When does Nana want to get started?”
“Immediately. You know how she is. She gets so excited about things! She had me call you because she’s busy writing up a list of the recipes she wants to include. Last time I checked in, she had about a hundred and twenty dishes on the list. I’m gonna need to talk her down a bit, or else we’ll never get the cookbook done.” There was a rustling sound, as if Jessie switched the phone to his other ear, and then he continued, “I know it’s super short notice, but do you want to come over this afternoon and then stay for dinner? It’s okay if you’re busy. I can convince Nana we need more prep time.”
“It’s fine, I can tear myself away from Raymond Chandler,” I told him.
“Is that your boyfriend? Feel free to bring him!”
“No, he’s an author. I was reading one of his books.”
“Oh! My bad. Okay, well, head on over around four if you can. We’ll need to run to the store, but we’ll be back by then. I’ll tell Nana you’re coming, she’ll be so happy.”
“Sounds good.” After we disconnected, I turned my attention back to The Big Sleep. I’d read the book at least a dozen times before, but I loved the comfort and familiarity of reading a great book over and over again.
*****
When I arrived at Nana’s house that afternoon, it was total chaos. I suspected that was always the case. Two puppies were barking excitedly, a few little boys were running down the hall, and several people were setting up equipment around the big kitchen, which was brightly lit by stage lights mounted to the ceiling.
Jessie smiled and hurried over when he spotted me. “Hey, Chance. Thanks for coming.”
“Hi. What exactly is happening here?”
“Well, Nana’s a big believer in multitasking, so she’s going to simultaneously film an episode of her cooking show, make dinner for the family, and have you take photos for the cookbook. She’s also moving from one video camera to three, because the executives over at the cable TV channel were complaining about her show not being professional enough. She figures taking more dynamic footage from multiple cameras will solve that problem.”
“So, she hired a camera crew?”
“Not exactly, but she did bring in a couple people with video experience, including her hairstylist, Mr. Mario.” He gestured at a man in his sixties who’d used so much self-tanner that he was the color of an Oompa Loompa. “He used to make adult films in the 1970s. I’m not sure what side of the camera he was on back then, but Nana says he’s good at making videos.”
“Ah.”
“And that guy over there,” Jessie said, indicating a man of about forty with a shaved head, camouflage utility vest, and camo Crocs, “is a Bigfoot researcher. I’m not sure where Nana found him. I think his name’s Hoss, or Moss, or something. I didn’t quite catch it. Anyway, he spends tons of time out in the Santa Cruz Mountains trying to film Bigfoots. Or Bigfeet. Or whatever. So he’s really skilled with a camera. And of course you know Trevor.”
The slender brunet was setting up a video camera on a tripod just a cou
ple feet from us, and he grinned and said hello. He was married to Nana’s grandson Vincent and was actually a chef’s apprentice, but seemed to have been permanently roped into the job of chief cameraman for Nana’s cooking show. His adopted son Josh, who was probably twelve or thirteen, sat in a corner with a paperback, trying to look aloof. But a little half-smile appeared on his face whenever he peered over the top of the book at all the activity in the kitchen.
I pulled my camera from its case and had just slung it around my neck when Nana burst into the kitchen. She was barely five feet tall, but the chef’s hat she was wearing added a couple more feet. “I’m excited to get started,” she said as she rubbed her hands together. “We’re gonna make a nice cioppino. It’s one of my favorites.” Nana spotted me then and said, “Hi there, Chance! Thanks for coming. I’m gonna want you right up here with me so you can get close-ups of all the action.” I went around the large kitchen island and stood by her side as I pocketed the lens cap.
“I think we’re ready to get started, Nana,” Jessie said, taking his place on her other side and smoothing down his short, blond hair, which tended to spike up on top. He’d originally been hired as her limo driver, but his job description had expanded to include assistant, companion, and cooking show co-conspirator.
I looked around as the three video cameras started to roll and said, “I’m going to be in the shot if I stand here. Maybe I should step aside.”
“That’s fine,” Nana said. “You’re cute, you’ll probably boost ratings. Now get some shots of what we have here.” She gestured at a big metal tub on the counter, which was full of ice.
Jessie pulled it a bit closer, and Nana got up on a stepstool as he said, “Don’t forget to tell the viewers what we’re making, Nana.”