by Leigh James
Blake put the paper down and stood up. "Aren't you going to eat?"
"Not now. I'll have a protein shake later."
"Well, can I come with you to the gym?" She suddenly sounded shy, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"I don't usually have a gym buddy." My tone made it clear that I wasn't keen on the idea.
"You don't have to babysit me. It just gets really boring, sitting around here with nothing to do. Except masturbate." She giggled until she saw the look on my face and abruptly stopped. "You can even pretend you don't know me."
"I might." Yeah, right. And let the other guys at The Stratum try to be Blake's gym buddy? No fucking way. "Except that's my engagement ring sitting on your finger."
Blake looked down at it and smiled, fingering it. "Right. Except for that." She looked back up at me. "I promise I won't bug you. I can take care of myself. And I won't ever make another masturbation joke—I swear."
"Fine." The word escaped before I had the chance to bite it back.
She was ready in five minutes. She wore a plain gray tank top and black running shorts. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail, and she wore no makeup. Yet she still managed to look stunning. She was so pretty in her natural state, it almost hurt to look at her. "Ready?" she asked, all smiles.
I nodded and tried not to stare. She'd already caught me whacking off this morning and had probably guessed that it was her I'd been thinking of. Enough was enough.
Much to my surprise, Blake knew her way around the gym. It almost annoyed me that she never asked me for help or looked my way even once. She ran on the treadmill. She did a weight circuit. She smiled and chatted with every man who spoke to her, but I noticed that she flashed her ring to all of them and mentioned that she was getting ready for her wedding.
I felt wildly, stupidly proud.
"See?" she asked when we got back into the elevator. Her body was glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, which somehow managed to make her look even more attractive. "I didn't bug you once, did I?"
"No," I admitted. For some reason, that really bugged me.
Chapter Ten
Blake
The dresses were absolutely stunning. Mina, the small, elegant woman who was handling our appointment at the Vera Wang Bridal Salon, beamed at me as she showed me the racks. "Wow," was all I could manage to say. We were the only customers in the exclusive shop, which was open by appointment only.
"I agree. They're all wow," she said. "Is there a particular style you're interested in?"
"Honey?" I asked Lucas, who was sitting by the window, tapping furiously into his smartphone.
"Yes, honey?" he asked, never looking up. I was starting to feel as if we were already an old married couple.
"Is there a certain style of dress you like?"
"Nothing poufy," he said, still typing. "I want to see that hot body of yours."
"Men," Mina said, conspiratorially.
"I heard that," Lucas called.
"She kind of has a point, honey," I called back. "But don't mind me; I'm just shopping for a wedding dress. A slutty one."
Lucas finally looked up from his phone. "I didn't say slutty, babe." He sounded nagged. "I just don't want your gorgeous figure hidden inside a poufy dress. Is that okay?"
I melted toward him a little, in spite of myself. "Of course, babe." I wanted to wink at him, but I held back.
Mina and I assembled about ten dresses, and she arranged them in a fitting room for me in the back of the store. Lucas stood up, stretched, and started to follow me toward the back.
"What are you doing?" I asked, aghast.
He looked baffled. "Don't you want me to see the dresses?"
"No, I do not," I said. "It's bad luck for the groom to see the wedding dress before the ceremony. I got your instructions: no pouf. I'll deliver."
Lucas arched an eyebrow at me. "You're really worried about bad luck?"
I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I just want everything to be perfect."
"Are you superstitious?" Lucas asked.
"I'm totally superstitious," I admitted.
He put his hand over his heart and grinned at me. "Well, I am humbled that you care enough about our wedding to be superstitious about it."
I grinned back. "Lucas Ford, you have never been humbled a day in your life. Except for maybe this morning." I started giggling. The wedding dresses were so shiny and amazing, I'd almost forgotten about this morning. Lucas Ford had been whacking off.
I'd caught a glimpse of him, and I'd been seriously impressed. Which, as one might imagine, wasn't an easy feat for a working girl. I'd thought I'd seen 'em all.
But Lucas had been large. Thick. Hard. Oh, so hard. I'd watched him stroking himself, coming, and I’d been mesmerized.
"Blake." His voice interrupted me. "You promised me you'd drop it about this morning. So stop thinking about my dick and go find a wedding dress."
I felt a blush creep up my neck. "I wasn't thinking about your dick." I leaned forward and hiss-whispered at him while Mina fluttered somewhere behind me. "But yes, sir. I'll go find a wedding dress."
He crossed his arms against his massive chest. "I told you to stop calling me 'sir.'"
He sounded as though he was going to come after me, and even though I wouldn't have minded, I hustled to the back to try on the dresses. Mina didn't need to witness our dysfunction, or whatever it was that was growing between us. An unlikely camaraderie. An uneasy alliance. And a growing lust, at least on my part.
Why did I have to see his dick? That was all I was going to be thinking about all day.
But then I went into the dressing room, and Mina handed me the first dress to try on. And like the good blonde that I was, all other thoughts vanished as I inspected the gorgeous dress. I fingered the fine, beaded material and wondered what it would be like to wear something so elegant and shiny on my wedding day.
But it was the third dress I tried on that made my heart stop: I knew it was the one when I saw it.
"That's it! That's the one," Mina said, clapping her hands together, before I'd even said a word.
I beamed at her. "I think so, too! How'd you know?"
She held the bodice of the dress tighter and turned me back toward the mirror. The long gown was covered in intricate lace that shimmered. I had to examine the dress closely to make out all of the ornate details. It was absolutely stunning.
There was a twinkle in Mina's eye. "Same way I know that man out there is the man of your dreams. And that you're the woman of his. Some things are just meant to be."
"Oh. Huh." I smoothed the dress and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "I bet you say that to all the girls," I said playfully, but my heart was suddenly racing.
"No, dear, I don't," she said. "I love it when people get divorced. Repeat business." She swooped my hair over one shoulder and adjusted the dress. "But I don't think you two will be back. Unless you do a vow renewal someday. And I have some lovely dresses for that."
"Holy guaca-guaca." Nikki pulled out a long, strapless red gown embellished by a fabric rose. "Isn't this something?" She fingered the flower with her fake nails, practically skewering it.
"It's lovely." I swallowed hard. "Could you maybe put it down?"
"Aw, Blakey, stop your worrying." Nikki snapped her gum and tossed her blond curls. "They love us in here."
The fact was Nikki was right. Lucas had arranged for three escorts—Nikki, Helena, and Christie—to meet us at the salon to pick out bridesmaids' dresses. Mina hadn't stopped smiling. Same thing with Lucas, who was tipsy from too much wine at lunch and the attention of excited escort-bridesmaids.
Nikki was the one I'd spent the most time with. She was the closest thing I had to an actual friend. She was short and curvy, with long curly blond hair and pouty lips. Helena was tall and model-thin, with cheekbones that could cut glass. Christie was in the middle height-wise, with what she referred to as an "ample bosom" and wavy chestnut hair. The four of us were considered Elena
's top escorts.
"Girls, pick out whatever you like," Lucas had said. They fussed and cooed over him, thanking him profusely and gushing about the store and the upcoming wedding.
Lucas had beamed at them. It'd been a retail rollercoaster ever since.
My coworkers were in the back, trying things on, but they kept catwalking their wares out front for Lucas to admire. Helena—who was six-feet tall with cascading raven hair and an ass you could rest a martini on without spilling it—came out in a skintight, black, strapless bridesmaid dress.
"Very nice," Lucas said, too enthusiastically for my taste. "Very nice."
A stab of something utterly foreign pierced me—jealousy. I glared at him as Helena grinned, tossed her hair over her shoulder, and sashayed back to the dressing room.
He finally noticed my glare. "What?" he asked, flushing.
"This is our wedding," I hissed. "Please stop drooling over the bridesmaids."
"I'm not drooling," he said, looking abashed. "I just like that dress."
"Just keep your tongue in your mouth," I snapped. "Drooling in Vera Wang is not acceptable."
"Sheesh," was all he said, but he didn't ogle the other girls.
Finally, dresses were chosen and the fittings were complete. I hugged each of my coworkers, thanking them for agreeing to be part of my big day.
"Are you frickin' kiddin' me?" Nikki asked, popping a fresh piece of gum into her mouth. "We're going to Vegas. For your wedding. To him." She pointed appreciatively in Lucas's direction. "This is going to be the best weekend ever."
"Right?" Lucas asked, his eyes sparkling. I shot him a glare, and he coughed, looking down and inspecting the carpet. I made a mental note not to let him have wine at lunch again.
Everything was happening so fast. The girls all had airline tickets booked for Friday, so we could meet in Vegas for the rehearsal dinner that night, followed by the ceremony the next day. They were all abuzz with excitement. Even Mina was caught up in it, hugging me and each of my bridesmaids as if we were her new best friends. By the time we left, we'd spent over a hundred thousand dollars on dresses and rush tailoring fees.
I guess we were her new best friends.
Exhausted, I practically staggered out of the salon, but Lucas seemed triumphant. He threw his arm around me as we headed down the sidewalk. "I like your friends," he said.
I sniffed. "I noticed."
"Aw, Blakey, don't be sour. It's our wedding," he said, teasingly using Nikki's nickname for me. He seemed positively upbeat. "Besides, we have to go home and get dressed up for our engagement pictures. So you need to lighten up."
"Fine," I said. We started through the park, but I was so shopped-out, I was immune to the beauty of the flowering trees and the smiling children riding the swan boats.
"Wait a minute," Lucas said. "I need to talk to someone." He headed over to a tree that was shading an older man, who was surrounded by bags. "Herman," Lucas said, reaching down and shaking his hand. "It's a beautiful day."
"Always is, big guy," Herman said. "How're you doing?"
Lucas put his arm around me and pulled me against his side. "I couldn't be better. I'm getting married."
"No shit," Herman said. "To her?" He motioned toward me.
"This is Blake Maxwell. Blake, this is Herman Pace. He's an old friend."
"Who're you calling old?" Herman asked. He struggled to his feet and gave me a stately nod. "It's a pleasure, Ms. Maxwell. Congratulations." He looked back and forth between us. "I'm expecting the future holds good things for you two. Both of you with nice smiles like that."
"Thank you," I said, touched.
"We're going out of town for a while," Lucas said. "I'll have Ian come check on you. And here's this." Lucas handed him a card. "Take care."
"Thank you,” Herman said. "And congratulations!"
Lucas kept his arm around me and headed toward The Stratum. "Who was that? What did you give him?"
"Herman Pace is a retired air force captain, who now happens to live in the park," Lucas said. "I met him at a function my mother was hosting to raise money for homeless veterans. The man's brilliant."
"So you've… stayed in touch with him?" I asked, surprised by this side of Lucas. "You visit him?"
He shrugged. "I tried to convince him to come work for me, but he likes being retired. Then I tried to buy him a condo, but he prefers the nomadic lifestyle. So I give him gift cards to local restaurants to make sure he eats. In the winter, Ian and I check in and make sure that he goes to the shelter when it's freezing out. Even though he hates to."
I felt touched. "Why do you do that?"
"I like him." Lucas squeezed my hand. "So you see, even though it didn't say so in that Globe article, I'm not a completely heartless bastard with the appetite of a zombie. And I can't let my sister have all that money. She can afford plenty of oxygen facials with just half. The other half's going to charity, like my mother would have wanted."
"Why didn't she just say that in her will?"
"She wanted to trust us. To act like adults and make the right decision." He checked his watch. "We have to hurry. Are you ready for your close-up?"
I nodded. "I'm ready for anything." That might have been a lie, but the more I got to know Lucas, the more I wanted to believe it was true. For once.
LUCAS
The photography session went well. There was an easy familiarity between me and Blake as we sat in the middle of the park. The photographer had us look into each other's eyes, hold hands, and had me drape my arm over her shoulders. The proofs he sent us afterward looked amazing. We looked like a real-life couple, gorgeous and smiling, all the happiness in the world in front of us.
Looking at the photographs, it was hard to believe it was a lie.
I had dinner delivered to the penthouse that night. We sat outside on the deck, overlooking the park below.
"I'm sorry I gave you a hard time about my friends," Blake said out of the blue. She was trying to get a crouton under the control of her fork and struggling.
"I was being an ass," I said. The other escorts were hot, but salivating over them in front of her had been insensitive.
"You're free to ogle who you like," Blake said, finally skewering the crouton.
I smiled at her. "That's not true. I'm spoken for. Engaged."
"You know what I mean."
I put down my fork. "Blake, I won't be with anyone else while we're together." I hadn't thought this part through, but I meant it. In addition to just being rude, it would be dangerous for me to seek physical release with someone else. If my sister got a hold of something like that, she would be crying fraud immediately.
Blake put down her own fork and raised an eyebrow at me. "You're going to be celibate for a whole year?"
I coughed. When she said it like that… "Aren't you?"
She shrugged. "Yes, but I don't mind." Her tone was challenging.
"I don't mind, either."
Blake furrowed her brow as she took a sip of wine. She was obviously mulling something. "Why are you so against… being with me? Do I disgust you? I mean—because of what I do?" Her tone wasn't self-deprecating. It was genuinely, intensely curious.
"Listen to me." I reached for her hand and held it across the table. "You are not capable of eliciting disgust from anyone. It doesn't matter what you do. You're a good person, Blakey." I smiled at her, trying to lighten the mood.
She pulled her hand back. "Don't tease me. I'm being serious."
I reached for her again, trapping her hand underneath mine so she couldn't escape. "So am I. You do not disgust me. In fact, the opposite is true. You’re gorgeous. I'm attracted to you. I was thinking about you this morning when you so rudely interrupted my jerking off." I felt my heart rate pick up. I was laying it all out for her.
She looked pleased for a moment but then stifled her reaction. "Oh."
"On top of that," I continued, "I think you're a good person. You take care of your mother. You're working as an escort in
order to protect the people you love. I admire you."
I could feel her knee starting to bounce nervously under the table. "Okay."
"I would sleep with you six ways from Sunday if I thought it wouldn't cause a problem between us down the road. But I think it would. And I can't jeopardize my family fortune in order to test that theory. Okay?"
"Why do you think it would?"
I let out an exasperated groan. "Are you dying to sleep with me? Because you're being awfully stubborn about this."
Blake cleared her throat. "I just want to be sure I understand."
"That's a non-answer, Blakey."
"That's the only answer I've got." Blake smiled at me bravely. "So tell me again."
I drank some more wine and reluctantly let go of her hand. "Ever since Elizabeth and I broke up, I've only had one-night stands with women. I'm sure that sounds terrible."
"I'm not going to judge you," Blake said. "Is it because she broke your heart?"
"No." I scrubbed my hand over my face. "I realized that the relationship was a waste of time, and that I didn't want another one. My needs could be met in other, more short-term ways."
"Just sex," Blake offered.
"Right. And after I lived like that for a year or two, I realized I preferred it that way. I didn't have to try to negotiate some messy emotional entanglement. I hadn't met anyone who could hold my interest that long. And that's true for Elizabeth, too. It had just become routine with her. It's not like I was shattered that she married my father. I just thought it was tacky, like everyone else."
"But we won't have a messy emotional entanglement," Blake persisted.
Sheesh. Maybe she really can’t stop thinking about my cock.
I smiled smugly to myself. Wouldn't be the first time.
"And I'm not saying that because I'm desperate to sleep with you—trust me, I'm not," she said, as though she were reading my thoughts. "But I still would like to understand where you're coming from."