Daddy's Boy (3 page)

I shivered, lust vibrating through my
blood and making my knees weak. I put out a hand against the wall
and inhaled deeply, closing my eyes for a long moment before
opening them and composing myself. I had never before had such a
visceral reaction to some man looking at me. I had been stared at
plenty of times in my life. As a matter of fact, the first time a
man had looked at me with lust in his eyes had been when I was
seven. The first time I had felt lust by having a man look at me
like that I had been sixteen. But this was the first time in my
life where I’d wanted to melt into a puddle and offer myself up on
a silver platter to someone without requiring money to do
so.

That made the gorgeous man with the
broad shoulders very dangerous. I would have to avoid him at all
costs.

“
I see you’ve already set
your sights on someone,” an amused voice said behind me, and I
turned to see who it was. I grinned when I saw my old friend,
Kellen, a former escort who had fallen in love with one of his
benefactors and gotten married three years prior. Now Kellen was a
man of leisure who spent his days attending teas, charity events,
helping the needy, and shopping. He did pretty much the same thing
I did, except I made fifty times more than he did and never had to
sleep with the same man more than once if I didn’t want to. And no
one owned me unless I let them.

I shrugged and snagged a glass of
champagne from a passing waiter. “I was just admiring the scenery,
” I said, deflecting my friend’s comment. “He seems like he might
be a little too much work for me.”

Kellen scoffed and brushed at a piece
of lint on the lapel of his suit jacket. “Do you have any idea who
that is?”

I looked back over at the gorgeous man
whose eyes now rested on me with an intense, unwavering gaze—even
as two gorgeous women, attired in Vera Wang gowns on either side of
him, clamored for his attention—and shrugged. “I have absolutely no
idea,” I said with a bored tone.

Kellen shook his head. “I am amazed by
you. When you get invested, it’s like the rest of the world
disappears,” he said as he took a delicate sip of his own glass of
champagne.

“
It is called being an
attentive lover,” I told him with a smile. “Besides, if I am
showering them with attention, they are showering me with money and
you know I need the money.”

Kellen nodded and touched my shoulder
with the tips of his fingers before dropping his hand and turning
back to face the, as of yet, unidentified man. He indicated the
gorgeous man standing on the other side of the room with the tip of
his glass. “That is Dodger Vanderbrook.”

My eyes widened and I gasped softly as
I gripped the stem of the champagne glass just a little more
firmly. “Did you say Vanderbrook?” I asked Kellen.

Kellen smirked. “I knew that would get
your attention,” he said. “Yes, that is the infamous Vanderbrook
heir. The one and only.”

My eyes narrowed as I allowed myself
the luxury of admiring him as he had done to me only moments
before. I took in the sight of his expensive pair of black leather
Gucci loafers and up his long, muscled body wrapped in a Handmade
Classic Charcoal Twill Suit by Gieves & Hawkes. My eyebrows
lifted. I knew how expensive that suit was. Knew Dodger had not
traveled to Neiman Marcus to buy it and had probably had someone
come to his home to have it tailored to fit his broad frame, and I
felt my asshole clench in anticipation while my little gold digger
heart gave a flutter of excitement. Yes, that’s right, I make no
qualms about being a gold digger. I know who and what I am, and so
do the men who purchase my time and pay my rent and buy me pretty
things to keep me in the lap of luxury I’d become accustomed to in
the past few years. But even though I was brutally honest with
myself about wanting Dodger because he was gorgeous and rich, and
it wouldn’t be hard for me to sleep with him—as it had been for so
many of the others. God, the first few days of sleeping with Jack
had made me want to vomit. I was surprised at the fact that my
hands were sweating.

I couldn’t remember the last time they
had done that. Sweaty palms were a sign of nervousness, which
implied you cared about the opinion of the person you were about to
talk to or be around. I was no longer encumbered by things like
that. I was surrounded by sharks and piranhas. Men and women who
would rather see me dead and eat me than see me thrive and be
successful at all. They were uncomfortable when they saw me at
their parties. They hated to see me at their charity events, their
luncheons, and their balls. I’d even attended a wedding once, and
it had been the most exhilarating day for me, because not only was
the groom a client of mine, but so was his brother, his best man,
his father, his uncle, his godfather, his future father-in-law—and
his pastor. Hell, it seemed like the only person who I wasn’t being
paid to sleep with was the bride, and that wasn’t because she
hadn’t offered, it was because I wasn’t sleeping with women at the
time. I had slept with women when I’d first started out in this
“career” but had soon been making enough money to be picky. I could
stick with dicks, balls, pecs, and ass because I loved men, and
breasts and vaginas just didn’t do it for me. I loved women; they
were beautiful—I just didn’t want to sleep with them, not even for
money. It was my own personal preference. At the time I wasn’t
desperate enough to put aside my own sexual orientation and sleep
with whoever would have me. Now, I had an obligation. I had rent,
bills, and someone I had to pay monthly for the next year in order
to keep my secret a secret, and in order to save someone’s life. I
couldn’t afford to be picky any more. If I had to be straight, I’d
be straight. Hell, if I had to be a fucking lesbian, that’s what
I’d be, but I needed to find someone to take Jack’s role as my
benefactor as soon as possible.

God, Jack could not have died at a
worse time.

I continued to admire
Dodger’s broad frame. From his barrel chest to his thick neck and
square jaw, to those thin lips I could actually see myself
kissing—which was something I charged extra for—to those blue eyes
and up to his black hair. Everything about him was impeccably
attired and whispered wealth and sophistication; and more than
that, it all screamed attractiveness. I actually
wanted
to sleep with a
client, not just for the money, but because I was physically
attracted to him.

“
Dodger isn’t like any of
your other clients. You might have to actually do a little research
before you approach him,” Kellen said.

I smirked as I turned to look at my
friend. I didn’t need to approach the gorgeous billionaire. I’d
already assessed what kind of man he was, and I knew exactly how to
get him hooked onto my fishing line.

“
I won’t be approaching him
at all,” I told my friend. Kellen’s eyebrows rose. He made a noise
of disbelief and glanced over at Dodger. I chuckled softly. “Dodger
is going to come after me.”

“
When?” Kellen asked. “How?
Where?”

“
Tonight. Here. And because
I’m going to do the one thing no one else in this entire room is
doing. I’ve looked at him, and now I’m going to walk away like I’ve
found him completely lacking. I’m going to make him hunt me.” I
smiled at Kellen as I leaned forward to whisper into his ear.
Kellen had been a good escort, but he wasn’t me, which was why he’d
settled down so quickly. He wasn’t cut out for the game. “Mr.
Vanderbrook is a hunter. Well, I’m going to be the toughest prey
he’s ever gone after, but it will be too late before he realizes
he’s the one who was being hunted the whole time.”

I tossed back the rest of
my champagne, placed the flute on the passing waiter’s serving
tray, and then, without a glance in Dodger’s direction, I smiled at
Kellen and walked toward the patio doors. I could hear the whispers
behind me as I walked past former lovers and their spouses or their
partners. I could hear the snide comments from those who thought
they were my competition but were really just pale imitations of
what I
used
to
be, not even what I was right now. And then there were the groans
and whispered pleas of the men—and yes, even some of the women who
were asking for an hour, five, ten, a day, a weekend, a week, a
month, or more with me. In the five minutes it took me to walk away
from Kellen across the room and out of the patio doors, the small
bag I always brought to parties like this had been stuffed full
with business cards and little scraps of paper with numbers
furiously scribbled on the back. The numbers weren't phone numbers
of course—I didn't need them, because if I decided to be with
anyone in the room, I would be able to find them purely based on
their name. Between Google, other companions, my own little black
book, the society pages, tabloids, and athletic statistics, I knew
more about most of the people in that room than they knew about
themselves. No, the numbers written on the backs of the business
cards and on the papers were offers: how much they were willing to
pay for my time. Per hour, per day, per week, per month. And in the
case of one portly gentleman, per year. I was tempted to choose
him. I could do it. Have myself another Jack and continue on as I
had been, and maybe even raise my rate and complete my business
with the devil and keep him away from the treasure he had his eye
on, but there was something about it that just didn't sit right
with me. I was tired of the whole scene.

Okay. I haven't lied to you
yet. I was sick of all of the
fat.
I had had a steady diet of nothing but fat men as
my benefactors for years and before that it was old, closeted,
conservative Republicans interspersed with frat guys who didn't
want their buddies to know they liked to be fucked up the ass. A
slew of NFL players, hip-hop stars, NBA players, and actors who
pretty much turned my place into Grand-fucking-Central Station. Not
that I minded. I was paid hand over fist. Not only for my services
but for my silence. And some of those athletes liked to bring their
friends and have parties so I charged more.

When I got to the point
where I could be a little more exclusive and selective with my
clientele, I realized I was missing out on the country club set.
The multimillionaires and the multibillionaires who were in the
closet and married to Muffy, Buffy, and Tammy but lusting after
their buddies Carl, Lonnie, and Stephen. Enter me, Tyler Simpston.
They couldn't keep their hands or their mouths off me or their
cocks out of me, which meant they couldn't keep their wallets or
their checkbooks closed to me. Their wives knew, but many of them
were just so happy their husbands were no longer trying to sleep
with
them
that I
got invited to cocktail parties, teas, luncheons, spa dates, the
works. They loved the fact that, because of me, their husbands were
happy and felt so guilty they were constantly buying them new
things. It was a win-win-win situation for everyone
involved.

But I was tired of being with
unattractive men. I needed the money, and really, my only skill was
having sex. That was it. It was all I knew how to do, all I'd been
doing to make money since I was fourteen. So to try and change
things now was not going to happen, but maybe I just needed to go
out to a club and find a good-looking guy and let him fuck me for a
weekend and then get back on the hunt. That might work. That is, if
Mr. Dodger doesn't take the bait. If he does, then this whole
stupid internal-monologue bullshit was for naught.

“
So you stare at me like
you want me, and then you just walk away?” a very deep, sensual
voice said behind me, moments after I stopped at the railing of the
outside terrace. I barely suppressed the shiver that wanted to rip
its way through my body. I don't have reactions like that. It would
mean the other person is making me
feel
something, and that's just not
possible, by any stretch of the imagination. I turned slowly,
affecting an air of boredom as I faced the intruder of my supposed
solitude. I almost choked as I found myself facing Dodger
Vanderbrook up close and personal. He was even more gorgeous with
only two or three feet separating us, and I took a step back to put
some distance between us, and to give myself some room to
breathe.

“
I’m sorry you thought I
was staring at you,” I said and smiled at him politely. “I did
notice you before I left and wondered if perhaps I knew you but
realized from your behavior you obviously were not him, so I
continued on with my original plan of getting some fresh air. Now,
if you will excuse me?”

I turned my back to him after my long
spiel, wondering why I sounded British and proper when I was trying
to tell someone I wasn't interested. Maybe it had something to do
with one of my former clients. He was quite rude. Whenever we would
go out, and he would tell people to stop staring at us, his British
accent became much more pronounced, and he was painfully proper
while he told them to shove it. I blinked and looked up at Dodger
when I realized he was looking at me quite seriously. I gave him a
small smile and shrugged.

“
Sorry, my mind wandered
off there for a second. What did you say?” I asked.

He smiled at me, and I barely stopped
myself from gasping. If I thought he was gorgeous before, he was
devastatingly handsome when he smiled. I brushed back a lock of
hair behind my right ear and looked up at Dodger as if he were just
another escort who I was having a conversation with until a more
interesting client came by.