The Escort Trilogy (Books 1-3)

by Ashley Love

  As the summer began, I was anticipating taking a vacation to Mexico, or maybe a Mediterranean cruise. I could certainly afford it, after all. Through Cleo, I had opened a 'corporate' account into which I deposited most of my money, some of which was invested and slowly began earning me dividends. I was free to draw upon the account whenever I wanted.

  I decided to take some time off from 'dating.' While I enjoyed my profession, I felt I needed a break from the parade of men. I wanted to enjoy being, as Cleo said, 'little old me.'

  In the meantime, Mya and I had become pretty close friends. While I had not told her about my profession, over time she began to wonder why I never dated guys from school and where I went three, four or five nights a week. Whenever she came over, she commented on my clothes and decorations (while I heeded Cleo's advice about being too gregarious in my spending, I still liked to surround myself with nice things) and it was obvious she was beginning to suspect something.

  "What do your folks do again?" she asked one afternoon, a week after finals. We sat watching TV and eating popcorn, just a couple of teenagers. I liked my 'girl time' with Mya. It was a relaxing contrast to the evenings I spent as a 'society girl.'

  "My dad's an electrician," I told her. "Mom works at a real estate office."

  Mya nodded. I could tell her wheels were spinning.

  I sighed, picking up the bowl of popcorn from my lap and setting it on my new claw-footed mahogany coffee table. "Just say it, Mya."

  She gave an innocent look. "Say what?"

  "Or...ask, whatever," I said, frustrated. I met her gaze, waiting.

  She took a breath, making her full breasts swell, and looked away a moment. A little smile crossed her face. "You don't have a job," she said. "And when you did, you lived like a typical college student. Now, it's like, every time I come over, you've got a bigger TV, or better furniture...you've gone from two mattresses stacked on the floor to one of those beds with six-hundred-count sheets. Not to mention all the new jewelry, and those clothes in your closet..."

  "You've been in my closet?" I asked, defensive.

  She gave a sheepish, apologetic look. "I snuck a peek, once," she said. "Look, I'm not trying to intrude—"

  "Oh, really?"

  Mya stared at me. "What's going on?" she asked softly, full of concern for me.

  I looked away and lit a cigarette. "Nothing."

  "Where do you go at night?" she asked, pressing the issue. "I mean, I call and text and you never answer."

  "Maybe I'm sleeping," I said wryly.

  "You don't have a boyfriend," Mya continued, then laughed sharply. "And you don't have a girlfriend. But sometimes, when I'd see you in class, you'd have that look."

  I tapped my cigarette, not looking at her. "What look?"

  "Like you got some," she said knowingly. "And got it good."

  I sighed, pulled on my cigarette. I realized my hands were shaking a little.

  Mya uncurled from the floor and crawled up on the couch, facing me. "Look, Allie," she said emphatically. "I'm not the National Enquirer. I'm not gonna go blab your secrets to anybody. I'm just your friend. And, to be honest, I'm a little worried about you."

  I bit my lip, contemplating whether or not to tell her the truth.

  "Are you having an affair with a married man?" she asked, her lips curled in a devilish grin. "Or...one of the professors?"

  "Mya..."

  "Come on, tell me!" she insisted. "I swear, I'll never tell anybody! Promise! So who is it? Professor Karnowski? I've seen the way he checks you out—"

  I finally looked to her. "You really wanna know?"

  She bit her lip, big brown eyes glowing. "Yeah," she whispered.

  I took a deep breath to steel myself...and told her.

  Mya stared at me in disbelief once I was finished. Her mouth hung open in shock. I could tell she thought differently about me now. I hoped it wasn't a bad thing.

  "You...you're an...call-girl?" she asked breathlessly.

  I nodded, and lit another cigarette. I blew a plume of smoke into the air, watched it dissipate in the air as a breeze blew through the open balcony door. "Yup."

  "Oh my God!" Mya exclaimed.

  I looked at her, saw the way she had clapped her hands over her mouth. Her eyes were even wider than before. Slowly, she dragged her hands away from her face, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. She was smiling, strangely impressed. "What's it like?"

  I shrugged. "I have fun, most of the time," I said. I tapped ash off my cigarette. "Most of the men are pretty cool."

  "So, what do you do with them?" she asked, genuinely interested. "Do you do kinky stuff? Like, melted honey and whips and chains and shit like that?"

  I laughed. "Sometimes I get kinky," I admitted. "But I pretty much get the normal guys."

  "And they pay you?"

  I sighed. "Yeah. They pay me."

  "How much?"

  I looked Mya in the eye. "Why all the questions? What, you wanna do it? 'Cause I can probably set it up."

  Mya gasped and reared back, giving me a startled look. "N-no!" she exclaimed. Her eyes bounced up and down. "I-I was just curious. That's all."

  "Mya."

  "What."

  "I was kidding."

  She slowly lifted her eyes and tentatively smiled. "Oh."

  I pulled on my cigarette, tapped it over the ashtray. "Look. I'm not gonna try to make excuses for why I do it. I like it, I really do. I'm not gonna do it forever, but for right now, until I get tired of it..."

  Mya was quiet, picking her nails. "Are we still gonna be friends?" she asked.

  I laughed suddenly. "Of course we are," I said. "Why would you even ask that?"

  Mya shrugged and smiled. "I like being your friend," she said simply.

  I smiled back. "And I like being yours."

  We shared a moment, then, one of those—and there had been more and more such moments over the course of the previous months—in which I thought that perhaps Mya and I might become more than just friends. God, she had such full, soft lips, and a cute, round face. In some ways, she seemed even younger than me. She was certainly less experienced, that I knew.

  At that particular moment, I felt the urge, which I instinctively knew she would not refuse, to push her back and peel off her clothes. I imagined tasting her, another girl, for the first time, imagined the expression of pleasure on her cherubic face as I pried her open and slipped my tongue—

  We were both startled by the loud knock at the door, bringing us out of our mutual revelry.

  Who could that be?

  Mya settled a hand on her heart as we both looked at the door. My own was pounding, like that of a little girl who was about to be caught, in the bedroom with a boy, by her mother. With a self-admonishing sigh, I got up from the couch and answered the door.

  "Sean!"

  He smiled sheepishly, standing there in jeans and a polo shirt, his hands in his pockets. "Hi."

  "Oh, God!" I exclaimed happily, and wrapped my arms around him, hugging him close. I hadn't seen Sean in months, not since that one and only time we had made love. I squeezed him tightly, pressing my body against his. He seemed startled by my reaction to his unexpected return, but quickly lifted his arms and hugged me back.

  I lifted my head, and kissed his lips. "I missed you," I said.

  He looked surprised. "You did?"

  I giggled, and grabbed his hands, pulling him into my apartment. "Of course, silly."

  Sean smiled, looking relieved. He saw Mya, however, and his smile faded. "Oh...hi."

  I giggled again. "Sean, this is my friend Mya. Mya, this Sean."

  Mya lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers. "Hi." Her eyes wandered over him, as did mine. In the months since I had last seen him, Sean had obviously been working out. His pudge was gone, his waist looked more trim, his shoulders a little more broad. Damn, he looked a good four or five years younger.

  "So...what's going on
?" I asked, holding his hands. Sean seemed uncomfortable talking in Mya's presence. I picked up on that right away. "Come on," I said, and pulled him toward the balcony. He followed, and I closed the door behind us. I sat down on one of the folding wooden chairs I had recently purchased, giving him an expectant look.

  "Terry left me," he said.

  My smile vanished. I felt immediate sympathy for him. "Oh, Sean," I said, and shot to my feet, hugging him again. He held me close, squeezing my shoulders. "I'm sorry, baby," I whispered, rubbing my cheek against his chest.

  Gently, he pushed me back. I sat down once again. Sean took out his cigarettes and lit up, pacing as he smoked.

  "She found out about us," he said. "Actually, she found about those Sunday afternoons. You remember Saul?"

  I nodded, frowning.

  Sean sighed. "I discovered he was doctoring tech reports, and falsifying time sheets for some of the guys in shipping in exchange for kickbacks. I had to fire him."

  I sighed, understanding the gist of what happened next. "So he told your wife."

  Sean nodded. He gritted his teeth, his expression revealing his pain. "She took Tyler and Lindsay. She took my kids, Allie!"

  I trembled, feeling my eyes swell with tears. "I'm sorry," I said amid a puff of air.

  Sean was quiet, smoking silently, staring at the wooden floor of the balcony. "Yeah, well...can't do anything about it now."

  "I wish I could," I said earnestly.

  Sean looked at me, reading my face. His eyes drifted down my body, settling on my hands. He smiled suddenly.

  "You still have the ring," he said.

  I looked down at the band he had given me, ran my thumb across the top. The diamonds caught the sunlight, refracting light in half a dozen brilliant shades. The butterfly seemed to glow, but maybe that was just my imagination. "Yeah."

  "I kept wanting to call you," he said. "I wanted to see you. I just—"

  "Sean, it's okay."

  His eyes were lined with red. He was trying not to cry. "God, I've missed you."

  I stared into his steel blue eyes. "I've missed you, too."

  He bit his lip, pulled on his cigarette, then flicked it over the railing. "What've you been up to?" he asked.

  I shrugged. How could I tell him? "Just...you know. School and st—"

  "I wanna make love to you," he said abruptly.

  I stopped, blinking, looking away. "Sean—"

  "I-I'm sorry," he said. "I don't know why I said that."

  I stood slowly, wiped my hands on my jeans. I reached for Sean's hands, held them in a tight grip. I looked up at his face. "I'm not the same girl you used to know," I said.

  He pursed his lips, nodded slowly. "You got a boyfriend now?"

  "Kinda. It's...casual."

  He nodded again. "I respect that," he said, then snorted ruefully. I could tell he was disappointed. "Bad enough I cheated on my wife, huh? Don't want you doing the same."

  "Sean, baby—"

  "Don't."

  I frowned. "Don't what?"

  He gripped my hands, bore into my eyes. "Don't make me think we could be together again."

  I started to speak, then stopped myself. I lowered my eyes. "Okay."

  Sean took a breath, let it out. "Um...I should go."

  "You don't have to."

  He laughed darkly. "Yeah, I do," he said, and slid open the door. I followed him back inside. Mya still sat on the floor, watching TV, but I could tell she wasn't paying attention to it.

  Sean headed to the door, pulled it open. He stopped and turned back. "Maybe...maybe I could call you sometime?"

  I smiled. "I'd like that."

  Sean matched my smile, just for a moment, then turned and headed down the stairs to his car. I waited until I couldn't see him anymore before closing the door. I leaned against it with a heavy sigh.

  "So, um..." came Mya's voice from the living room. "Wanna play Scrabble?"

  I started laughing. I don't know why, really. Maybe I needed to release the tension somehow. I shoved away from the door. "Sure," I said.

  Later that evening, after Mya left, I sat watching TV after taking a long bath. Surrounded by the fragrance of the expensive soap I now used—it made my skin so soft and supple—I felt relaxed and ready for bed. I was just waiting for my eyes to get heavy. I smoked a cigarette, watching some program on Discovery about conjoined twins.

  When the knock came, I wasn't entirely surprised.

  I knew who it was. I rose to my feet, not bothering with clothes, and opened the door wide. I wanted him to see me in all my glorious nudity.

  Sean stared at me, eyes becoming immediately glazed over in passion. He lowered the bouquet of roses and the bottle of strawberry vodka in his hands.

  I gave him a smoldering look. "Wanna...come inside?" I asked.

  He didn't miss the double entendre of my question. "God, yes," he breathed, stepping over the threshold. He dropped the roses and bottle to the floor—thank God for plush carpeting!—and gathered me in his arms. I wrapped my arms and legs around him and smothered my lips against his. His hands cupped my cheeks, supporting my weight. I felt the tips of his fingers brushing my puckered anus and slick lips.

  "Allie, I've been dreaming about you," he whispered between fervent kisses.

  "I'll make those dreams come true," I promised, sucking on his lips and running my hands over his chest.

  Sean chuckled. "Hope you don't have to work tomorrow," he said.

  I grinned, staring into his blue eyes. "Even if I did, I'd call in."

  I cried and moaned as I came for the third or fourth time, shoving my ass back against Sean as he pounded into me from behind. My pussy clamped down hard on his dick, wanting to make him cum as well. He grabbed a handful of my long blonde hair, jerking my head back, and drove his cock deep inside me. I felt his balls slapping against my dripping clit over and over.

  "Allie!" he cried. "I'm gonna cum, baby!"

  I slipped forward, feeling his hard dick pop out of my pussy, and whirled around on all fours. Eagerly, savagely, I sucked his slick penis into my mouth, moaning at the taste of my own cum. Sean gasped and shoved in deep, pushing his dick into my throat as he came.

  The warm fluid rush of his orgasm flowed down my throat, and I swallowed the first few spurts before pulling back to savor the rest of his essence on my tongue. Sean trembled and moaned above me, holding my head close, massaging my scalp, hissing with pleasure as I nursed his sensitive cock.

  He eventually collapsed against the bed, supporting himself for a moment on one hand as I continued sucking his spent penis. It flopped out of my mouth, shiny, wet, and dripping. He rolled over onto his back on my bed, his feet still on the floor. I kissed and licked all around his crotch, lapping up little drops of pearly cum here and there, suckling gently on his sweaty, musky balls. Sean mumbled something, stroking my hair.

  I finally lifted up and slid over him, pressing my sticky lips to his. "I really missed you, Sean," I said.

  He brought up heavy hands and stroked my back. "I...I love you, Allie..."

  4

  We were like a couple, the following day, and for the next couple of weeks after that. Sean stayed with me every night, and we made love every single day. He took me to lunch, dinner, movies, and we went shopping together. For those precious, wonderful days, I forgot all about my profession as an escort, forgot all about the dozens of men I had been with. It was just me and Sean, and I loved every little moment.

  My nineteenth birthday happened to fall in that time, and after dinner with my parents ("He's such a nice man," my mother told me. "Where'd you meet him?") Sean took me down to the coast to celebrate. He gave me a diamond-studded bracelet, engraved with our initials separated by a heart ('SJ luvs AG'), and a book of erotic poetry. We made love tenderly on the beach. For the first time, with the waves lapping at our feet and the morning sun warming our naked bodies, we told each other 'I love you' at the same time.r />
  It was strange, I remember, as I realized my love for him. I had thought that I would never think of Sean as anything more than a dear friend, a cherished lover. I thought that my love was reserved only for Troy. But I was wrong. I loved both men, for different reasons. And I loved them both equally.

  But unlike Troy, Sean was a man I could have.

  By the time we returned home, I was seriously considering giving up everything and spending the rest of my life with Sean. I started imagining writing my name as Alyssa Jackson, driving a mini-van full of kids to school, going to PTA meetings and shopping for anniversary gifts. I wondered where Sean and I would go on our honeymoon.

  I went out shopping a couple days after we came back from the coast, picking up items to make Sean's favorite meal: steak and potatoes. I loved his simple tastes. I selected the best ribeyes from the meat counter of the supermarket, grabbed a bunch of broccoli and a couple of big, ripe spuds. I thought about picking out a bottle of wine, but wasn't sure if I would be carded. I decided I would let Sean head out for 'refreshments,' once I got back.

  The apartment was quiet when I stepped through the door. I knew Sean liked to watch the Sci-Fi channel, and being a Friday, some of his favorite shows were on. Yet Sean wasn't on the couch as I had expected.

  "Honey?" I called out.

  "In here."

  The tenor of his voice bespoke something sinister. I set the bags on the floor and approached the bedroom. A quivering feeling began in my chest. "B-baby?"

  I stepped into the doorway, saw Sean sitting on the bed. It was still unmade from that morning's lovemaking. He held a tiny black cell phone in his hand, running his thumb across the surface. My heart fell in my chest. It was my phone, the one Logan had given me.

  "Were you ever gonna tell me?" he asked.

  I fell against the door frame, slapping my hand over my heart. "H-honey—"

  He shot me a menacing look. "Don't even," he said harshly. "A woman called, asked for you. I asked who she was, and she hung up on me."

  I struggled to catch my breath. My world was falling apart.