Authors: H.D. Thomas
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 201
3 H.D. Thomas
All rights reserved.
I dedicate this book to my loving parents who have always fostered my individuality and imagination. Your love and unfaltering support has given me the courage to believe in myself. Thank you for everything.
I love you both very much.
I have the most generous, caring, smart women in my life. Thank you to all of you ladies who inspire and support me. Writing this story was a
n emotional roller coaster. I couldn't have done it without you! Darlene, Fasai, Jennifer, Karen, Marla, Melissa, Meredith, Molly, I love you!
I have to give a special shout-out to my dear friend Jeannine & Steve who helped me comb through this book with a highlighter as we sat by the pool. Your attention to detail is very much appreciated!
Shannon, thank you so much for everything! Always taking my calls, listening to me vent, and giving me quick feedback...you're the best. Even in the middle of a move across the country you were there for me every step of the way.
hear my three inch sling-backs slapping on the marble floor as I cross the lobby to the elevator. The usual canned music is humming along with the idle chatter of tourists. I tell myself, “Tonight is like any other night.” Except that my intuition is telling me that tonight’s client is no usual John.
I am typically sent to a loft in the Pearl or I visit clients in their guest house or a small hotel room. This is a first for a Presidential Suite.
I press the elevator button of
The Benson Hotel and the elevator rises. Dabbing on an extra layer of lip gloss, I give myself one last look before the elevator door opens.
The embellished mahogany door slides wide and I am greeted by a butler who moves to let me into the suite. He says nothing, but gives me a quick smile that seems genuine. Perhaps this client will turn out all right if he is as friendly as his employee.
As the butler opens the door for me
, I look ahead and lock eyes with the man standing on the other side. I am not sure if he looks surprised or angry gauging by the expression on his face. I give him a quick smile and try not to look confused or offended. I am a professional—I can handle this. Our eyes are still dancing with each other and I feel like I can't look away.
I know his name already, James Hunter, but he tells me anyway. I respond in kind. “Hi. I am Sophia Noire. Nice to meet you,
Mr. Hunter.” I use my “stage name,”' as I prefer to call it.
James is ready with a glass of champagne, and takes my coat as though we were planning to have dinner or something. “Hmm,” I wonder, “Do real gentlemen still exist?”
James's soft brown eyes watch me as he asks, “How's the champagne? I hope it suits you.”
I want to tell him that this champagne is fantastic and to pour me another, but I refrain and just nod my head and smile.
My real name is Eva Zajak but I don't give that name out to clients. I am only known as Sophia. I started it as a coping mechanism a long time ago so that I could detach myself from the experience. Now
, no one calls me Eva anymore. Not even my own family.
I hear the bathtub running and I feel a little unsure of what I am getting into. Taking on a new client has put me on tilt, at least just a little. Alexi, my handler, usually just has me working with my normal clients. I only visit with four guys on a consistent basis. They are primarily lonely businessmen who just want some company if out of town or when things are rocky at home. The routine with those regulars is predictable, informal and almost comfortable.
As for me, since this is a family business, and I am family, they take a little better care of me than the other girls. Not by much, but at least I am not treated like a turnstile. Tonight's event, however, feels a little different. Maybe things are changing, although it is hard to tell if it is a good thing or not.
I walk through the Presidential suite with its expansive rooms and luxurious décor.
I feel a little out of place knowing how expensive this place has to be.
I sneak another peek at James. From first glance I noticed his lean build, with broad shoulders, standing over six feet tall. I am average height for
a woman, but even wearing my three-inch heel platform red heels he still towers over me. His dark slacks hang easily from his hips and the top button of his dark blue striped shirt is undone, although the elegant shirt is tucked in. As he leans over to shake hands, I can feel the warmth and strength in his powerful and rough grip. I gaze at his strong hands and the dark hair on his arms, peeking out of his cuffs.
I can tell that James is different.
“Are you hungry?” He asks with such a sweet, gentle voice that I almost feel like it is a real date.
“I can order room service,” he explains, “I haven't eaten yet and was waiting to see if you wanted anything first.”
I am actually quite hungry now as I was a bit nervous to have a new client and skipped lunch. I should have grabbed a granola bar or made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before I left.
He stares at me intently and I feel my knees go a little weak. His stare is penetrating and I notice that he has a dimple in his left cheek. His black hair is tousled a little with thick curls. I can already picture running my fingers through his thick dark hair and kissing that dimple.
I look away quickly and actually blush, something I haven't done in I don't know how long. I realize I don't like this feeling and try to reel it back in and push away these thoughts.
He is waiting for a response and finally interrupts my internal dialogue to say, “I must insist. I am ordering for you. Are you allergic to anything Sophia?”
I shake my head. This guy is rendering me speechless. “Good,” he says and picks up the phone. He speaks firmly and orders the steak and the lobster risotto.
For some reason I feel a connection to him but push it out of my mind.
This cannot be happening.
My heart has been broken before and I can't have it happen again. I need to keep him at arm’s length. Giving him a quick smile, I nervously lick my lips trying to distract him from my momentary awkwardness.
He points over to the gorgeous marble bathroom and the deep tub that is filling up with big fluffy bubbles with the heady smell of jasmine. “Why don't you relax and take a bath. I will let you know when dinner is here.”
“Are you going to join me in the bath? It will be lonely without you.” I give him my best sultry voice with an inviting smile. I hope he takes the bait so I can end this night soon and get out of here. I don't want to get too comfortable and let my guard down. Bad things can happen when you do.
“No, Sophia. I have so
me work to do,” he replies, “and I like to take things slow.” I feel my breath catch; I am not familiar with this approach. “I intend to have you around for awhile,” he continues with a lopsided grin, his dimple even more pronounced.
Keeping me around? This is news to me.
James is not finished. “I took the liberty of shopping and picking out a few things for you. I have some things planned while I am here. You will need some dressy clothes so I took the opportunity to spoil you.”
He did what?! Now this is getting to be more and more unusual. I take a deep breath and count to ten to calm my nerves.
Alexi had said James was in town on business and wanted a companion for a couple of days, tops. “How long are you going to be in town?” I ask this hoping that he says a few days. I can see myself falling for this guy and it can't happen. I am used to my regular clients who are dull and average looking. And safe.
James is off-the-
. I can't handle this for long. I am not used to being treated so well and it is not good for me. I have heard horror stories about girls getting too soft and carefree and then they end up beaten badly or dead.
James stares at me while I have this conversation in my head like he is sitting there reading my mind. I yell at him internally, “STOP reading my mind, James!”
It’s as though he can actually hear me. Instead he sits there with that infectious grin and dazzling brown eyes and waits for me to finish my thought before saying, “Three weeks max. It really depends on how it goes. I am here for as how long as it takes.”
He cocks his head at me inquisitively, “You don’t mind, do you? You are free, right?”
I turn on my heel and walk to the bathroom and turn off the hot water. It is steaming up the mirrors and the jasmine fills my senses, helping me to relax slightly.
“Do you want me to undress in front of you and bathe with the door open
, Mr. Hunter?” I have no idea how this is supposed to go and I hope he will give me some direction.
“Ms. Noire, you can stop calling me Mr. Hunter and start calling me James. No need for formalities.” He emphasizes the “Ms.”
to make a point. He doesn't skip a beat. I see a little twinkle in his eye as he says, “Leave the door open if you'd like. Your choice.”
I am sure that once we have sex that he will lose interest in me quickly. He may love the chase, b
ut I am going to speed this cat-and-mouse game up and get the heck out of here as quickly as possible. But do I really want to get this over with? I could stay with him forever if this is how he treats me.
I leave the door open and slowly undress in front of him. Bending over in full view, I roll my stockings down and slide my lace thong down my hips practically begging him to come in the bathroom. Hopefully he will storm in and take me right here on this marble floor. I imagine his rough hands grabbing my hips as he pushes deep into me from behind, and I can almost feel his breath on my neck whispering my name. Powerful and commanding, he cups my ass and pushes deeper into me as I moan uncontrollably.
Whoa! Stop that day dreaming
I can feel James watching me and I flip my hair over my shoulder and give him my sexy bedroom eyes. Okay, this has to work. He is not going to be able to handle this seduction, right? Let's do this, Mr. Hunter. The longer that I am here the faster I fear I will fall for him. There has to be
something wrong with him.
He’s not perfect if he had to pay for my services,
I remind myself.
He smiles and says, “How's the temperature of the bath? Too hot?” Damn him! I smile back and nod, “It's perfect.” I finish undressing without any peep show theatrics. Apparently he is immune to me. Hmmm...perhaps he isn’t into my looks
I am about five foot five with long, dark chestnut hair and hazel eyes. I am on the curvier side and definitely have a womanly body. No skinny butt here. Nope. I work my curves as best I can and most men seem to like my shape. Maybe he doesn't
I step in the hot bath and squirm a little before settling in and getting used to the temperature. As I close my eyes, I try to relax.
I can barely hear his conversation on the phone. I slap the bubbles surrounding me trying to stop their buzzing around my ears so I have a better opportunity to hear.
“She's here, yes…I don't know….uh huh…” I can hear him talking, and apparently it's about me. I perk up a bit more and really try to stretch my hearing.
“Absolutely. She's taking a bath now....No, I will not do that!” His voice slightly raises and I can tell that his voice is straining a bit, trying to keep it to a whisper.
I hear nothing more. Hmmm? What is he up to? I really don't feel like I am in danger with him, so what is his story?
I hear the hotel phone ring and he calls to me, “Dinner is on its way up. There are some clothes in that Nordstrom bag in the connecting room to the bath. Go ahead and put something on. I got your measurements from Alexi.” I feel a bit of relief; anything coming
from Nordstrom can't be too bad. I was picturing some leather S&M outfit I would be forced to wear.
I step out of the bath and look at myself in the big double vanity sink mirror. I can’t help but admire how good I look with the bubbles running down my naked body enhancing all the right curves. My breasts are pink and plump from the hot water and my nipples are hard from
the contrasting shock of temperature now that I am out of the bath.
I run hands my from my neck, down to my breasts and slide down to my sex. I can imagine what his hands will feel like and my stomach clenches anticipating him. I feel my soft skin around my hips and imagine him firmly holding them as he bends down and kisses me down to my thighs.
Snap out of it
Whoa, he has me twisted!
I walk out of the bathroom stark naked, nothing but bath bubbles and wet glistening skin, and stand in front of him. He is on his laptop and stops abruptly to rake his eyes over my body, head to toe
, slowly. He clears his throat quickly but I can see the hunger in his eyes. Ha! I got him. He
interested in me.
, James, I really appreciate you shopping for me. I am so wet. Can you help dry me off ?” Bending over I parade my breasts in his face as I hand him the towel.