Authors: Michelle Betham
Two
Neal
It’s Saturday evening and I don’t intend to spend it alone. Yeah, it’s short notice, but it’s not like I haven’t used these kind of agencies before, both in this country and my own. There are always girls willing to meet at the drop of a hat. And I’m banking on the old American accent working in my favour here. That, and my undeniable charm.
I’ve spent the afternoon checking out the websites of a couple of the more reputable escort agencies in the region – I like to do my research when I’m in a new town. I don’t want just any old girl. And I think I’ve found the one I want tonight.
The list of things she’s willing to do isn’t as long as some of the other girls’, but I notice she’s been doing this for some time, and that intrigues the hell out of me. As does the fact there’s no photo of her face on her public profile, which isn’t unusual, but I, personally, have never met an escort without knowing what she looks like first. But this one – there’s something different about her. I don’t know what it is, I can just feel it. And I quite like the fact I have no idea what she looks like. I’m a risk-taker, and this is a risk I feel like taking tonight. The tattoo’s a definite turn-on, though. I might not be able to see her face on her profile, but the pictures that
are
there are showing that tattoo decorating one side of one hell of a killer body! I’ve never fucked a tattooed girl before, and now I’m kinda up for that. And her name – Kira Blu. Not her real one, obviously, but I like it. It has an edge. And I’m all for edgy. She’s also a little older than the women I usually book. I’m thirty-eight, but I normally like them a little younger than me; between twenty-three and thirty is my usual range. So, at thirty-six this lady is certainly making me break my own rules.
I decide to bypass calling the agency to see if she’s free. There’s an option on her profile to contact her direct, which also isn’t unusual. It’s the escort’s own personal choice as to whether she’ll allow initial direct contact or not.
I quickly punch in her number and wait. She answers after just a couple of rings. Good start.
‘Kira Blu.’
‘Hey, Kira, I’m Neal – a stranger in town who’s looking for some company tonight, and, I was wondering if you were free.’
‘Did it say I was free on my calendar?’
Whoa! A feisty one. But, man, that accent! I’m hard just listening to her. ‘Yeah, it did, but you seem to be a popular lady. There’s every chance some other guy could have got to you before I did.’
There’s a slight pause down the line before she laughs quietly, and even that’s sexy-as-fuck. I gotta meet this woman or my cock’ll never forgive me.
‘What kind of company are you looking for?’
I sit back in my chair and look out over a view I’m becoming more used to now. ‘Well, I thought dinner, here at my hotel, then back to my room for drinks…’
‘Is that all?’
I know what she’s asking, but I also know that, legally, it isn’t always wise to openly discuss sex over the phone. Even hinting at it can be risky. But I want sex. Of course I want sex. ‘We can talk. If you like.’
She laughs again, and she’s already got my cock on red alert. But she knows what I’m trying to say here.
‘I’m assuming you’ve read my profile, on the website.’
Yeah. I’ve read her profile. And like I said, she might not offer the longest list of services, but she’s willing to do enough to keep
me
happy. ‘Why don’t we just play it by ear, huh? See where the night takes us.’
‘How long were you thinking of booking me for? Minimum is two hours for an out-call.’
She gets straight to the point, I’ll give her that. It’s like planning a business transaction and, to be honest, I’ve never had this before from any escort I’ve used in the past. It’s fucking turning me on like crazy! ‘I’m not sure, exactly…’
‘I don’t work like that I’m afraid. I need to know how many hours you want me for.’
She really is one hell of a businesswoman. And I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad in my life. ‘Let’s say five hours. That OK?’ She’s not the cheapest, and five hours in her company is gonna set me back the equivalent of over nine hundred dollars, but I’m beginning to think there’s a reason for that. I’m guessing she’s gonna be worth every cent. And I can afford her.
‘Which hotel are you staying at?’
‘The Draysman, down on the Quayside. Do you know it?’
‘Yes, I know it. What time do you want me there?’
‘Eight 0’clock. I’ll meet you in the main bar downstairs. I’ll be wearing dark pants and a white shirt. I’m a dark haired, blue-eyed guy, and I’m sporting some light stubble right now. So, you gonna tell me what
you
look like? So I can recognise you?’
There’s another slight pause, followed by another small laugh. I’m guessing this lady isn’t quite as hard as she might like to come across. ‘I’ve got long, dark-blonde hair which I’ll be wearing loose. And I’ll be in a knee-length, strapless black dress and high-heeled ankle boots.’
‘Great.’ She knows how to dress for the occasion, then.
‘Travel expenses will be extra, seeing as this is an out-call. You did see that on my profile, didn’t you?’
‘I read your profile twice over, honey.’
‘Good. You’re new, so I don’t want any confusion.’
‘There won’t be any of that, darlin’. I can promise you. See you in an hour.’
‘An hour.’
She hangs up and I smile, keeping the phone to my ear for a few more seconds before throwing it down on the desk.
I’m looking forward to tonight. This is how I get my kicks. No commitment, no ties, no feelings to get in the way.
This is how I get my kicks.
Strange women, great sex.
That’s the way I like it.
And that’s the way it’s gonna stay.
Kira
I’ve seen a lot of men in all the years I’ve been doing this, but I’ve never spent time with an American man. Not that it matters. I don’t care where they come from as long as they pay up front and are clean and polite.
Walking through the huge revolving doors of The Draysman Hotel – one of the most exclusive hotels in the city – I give my hair a small shake so it falls down around my bare shoulders, and stride confidently towards the main bar just off reception. I’ve been here countless times over the years. I’m on first name terms with the general manager, the doormen, the concierge and most of the reception staff so I always feel comfortable coming here. They know me. And they know I’m discreet enough to make sure nobody knows why it is I come here so often. I use this hotel for in-calls sometimes. I never use my own home. The agency has an apartment which some of the girls use, but I rarely go there. I don’t like it. It always feels seedy to me, and no, the irony of that doesn’t escape me. I know what it is I do. And I know how it must sound to people who don’t understand this world. But the last thing it needs to be is seedy. I’m not a prostitute, although I know many who would argue with that. But I’m not. What we do is safe and controlled, for both the girls and the men who use our services.
I stop at the entrance to the bar, and I don’t really know why. I never usually stall, I just walk straight in there and get on with it. Tonight though, for some reason, I feel the need to stop and think for a minute. But the moment soon passes, and it’s business-as-usual as I head inside – shoulders back, head up, smile firmly in place. It’s time for Kira Blu to do her stuff.
The bar is packed, which is no surprise, given as it’s a Saturday night, and I slowly scan the room, looking for the man who’s due to be my companion for the next five hours. The place is full of a mix of people from couples to groups of girls and the usual scattering of businessmen. Yes, even on a weekend there are a few of them still here, be it still on the business they were initially sent here to do, or whether they’ve taken it upon themselves to extend their stay, for whatever reason. But I’ve been that reason, on more than one occasion. So I can recognise these men a mile off. I’m sensing the man I’m meeting tonight is different, though. He’s American, for starters. That doesn’t mean he can’t be from around here, of course, but I’m almost certain he isn’t.
My eyes move to the bar, and that’s when I spot him. Straightaway. I know it’s him. Dark pants, white shirt, sleeves rolled up over his forearms; dark hair just long enough to brush the back of his collar. He’s talking to a man seated on the stool next to him, and for a second I just watch their exchange. And I need to take that second, I really do, because at first glance this man who’s willing to pay six hundred and fifty pounds for dinner and a meaningless fuck – because I know he wants sex, I got that from our earlier conversation – he’s probably the most incredible looking man I have ever laid eyes on. So incredible, in fact, that I have to swallow hard to dislodge the breath that’s caught in my throat, and I silently curse myself for that brief and unfamiliar moment of weakness. I’ve been with a lot of good-looking men in my time. This one will be no exception.
I start to walk over to him, and as he slowly looks up our eyes lock, and I have to quickly swallow again to dislodge another trapped breath.
He stands up and comes over to greet me, placing a hand on my hip as he stops in front of me, pulling me closer as he leans in to plant a feather-light kiss on my cheek. Act like we aren’t complete strangers. He knows the drill. He’s done this before. But the second his lips touch my skin I feel my stomach give an unexpected jolt, and I ignore it. I’m at work. This is business. He’s just another client.
‘You must be Kira.’ He smiles, and I’ve never seen a smile like it. It changes his entire face, in that it seems to make him even more attractive. If that could be possible. The only way I can describe this man is impossibly handsome. I mean, seriously, he needs women like me? He must have a queue of them waiting to snap him up, but that’s not for me to question. His reasons for booking me, they’re
his
business. ‘I’m Neal. Neal Cannon.’
I return his smile, and once more ignore my misbehaving stomach as he rests a hand gently in the small of my back, his fingers splaying out as he guides me towards a secluded table in the corner, waiting until I sit down before he takes a seat. A gentleman. I’m definitely not the first escort he’s used. I can always tell the ones who are experienced in this kind of situation.
‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve ordered a bottle of champagne.’
I smile again. I can’t help it. He’s one of the few men I’ve genuinely felt instantly comfortable with. ‘I love champagne.’
‘Good.’
His eyes meet mine, and I can’t help but notice what a truly beautiful colour his are; piercing blue with tiny flecks of gold. An unusual eye colour for someone as dark-haired as he is.
‘And I’ve booked us a table in the restaurant for nine 0’clock. I hear they do a great lobster here.’
‘They do, apparently.’ Although I’ve never had the pleasure of trying it. Maybe I’ll get a chance to change that tonight. I just wish I felt more hungry. My appetite’s suddenly waned somewhat. ‘I know the chef.’ I’ve fucked the chef, but, hey, his money’s as good as anyone else’s.
He raises an eyebrow, his mouth twisting up into a slight smirk. ‘You haven’t tried it?’
I lean forward, resting an elbow on the table and my chin in my hand. ‘Not yet. No.’
He laughs quietly, our eyes still firmly locked together. There’s an electricity fizzing between us that I’m still trying hard to ignore, but I can’t help looking forward to dessert, and not the kind they’re going to serve us in the restaurant. Enjoying the sex is a perk that doesn’t happen too often for me, but I’ve got a feeling tonight could be one of those nights. If he fucks as good as he looks I’m going to be one very lucky woman in a couple of hours’ time. I’m almost hoping he’s a fast eater. Dinner can’t be over too quickly as far as I’m concerned.
‘I’ll go see where that champagne’s got to, huh?’
I watch as he swaggers over to the bar, his hands in his pockets, every female head in the room turning the second he walks past. He could have any woman he wants. Yet he chooses to pay for someone like me. And I can’t help but wonder why.
Neal
She’s beautiful. And when I say beautiful, I don’t mean just pretty or easy on the eye; she is stunning. I don’t know what I was expecting – she’s a popular escort, so I guess I wasn’t expecting plain. But she’s got my guts in a fucking knot so tight I had to make some excuse to get up and take a few seconds to breathe.
I collect the champagne and glasses and head back to our table. She’s checking her phone, but the second I sit back down it’s in her purse and her attention is fixed solely on me. She knows how to play this game, which is probably why we’re both so comfortable in each other’s company already. Yet, there’s a part of me that isn’t sure how to handle this one. I had a feeling she was gonna be different to any escort I’ve used before, but I wasn’t counting on this.
I want to ask her so many questions, but I know that’s off limits, unless she initiates that kind of conversation. Which I really hope she does, but there’s something about her that’s telling me she may be a touch guarded. I don’t know why, I just feel it. She’s giving off something that’s saying don’t get too close, but that could just be the nature of her job. I’m paying for dinner and sex; this isn’t a real date. And I don’t want it to be. I haven’t dated for over six years and I like it that way. Keep your distance, don’t let anyone get too close.