January (Calendar Girl #1) (10 page)

I wasn’t sure what to think or how to take that information. We agreed to not getting attached. Although if I was honest, I couldn’t say I wasn’t attached to Wes. I definitely was. Did I love him? I didn’t think so. This whole time I’d been so focused on not falling in love that the option of opening my heart to him never presented itself.

The buzz of my phone broke me out of the constant loop of “what ifs” I’d been contemplating about Wes and me becoming a real couple. When it came right down to it that was not an option. He knew it, and so did I. That needed to be enough.

“Hello,” I answered noting my Aunt Millie’s name on the screen.

“Hi doll-face. How’s life dipped in gold treating you?” My Aunt Millie’s voice was filled with humor but only reminded me of my true station in life. I had been hired to do a job. That job bought me a life of luxury…for a one-month stay. It was not my own, nor would it ever be. I sighed loudly into the phone. “That good, huh?”

“No, it’s fine. What’s up?” I pulled a lock of hair and inspected the ends looking for splits. Time for a cut.

“I’m calling to tell you about your next client, dear.” I could hear paper shuffling and the clacking of nails on a keyboard as she clucked her tongue.

“You will be heading to Seattle!” Never been there, could be fun, I thought, while she continued on. “This one is going to be interesting. “Alec Dubois is the client. Thirty-five, tall, dark, and handsome, fits the bill, but he’s odd.”

I refrained from commenting. I thought the whole process was strange until I met Wes. Then I realized it was possible for good, kind, normal men to need a companion for one reason or another, and in this particular circumstance, I was glad. Without it, I’d never have met Wes, and he was definitely someone I’d consider significant. He mattered to me too, though I hadn’t mentioned it to him yet.

“…picked you off the website the day after I sent you to Mr. Channing. Made me promise he’d get the next month with you.”

Cringing, I turned and grabbed a blanket off the chair and wrapped myself in it. “Is he a creeper?”

Millie laughed so loudly into the receiver, I had to pull it away from my ear. “No, baby girl, he’s an artist! You’re going to be his muse. One look at you and he said he must have you for his new series
“Love on Canvas.”
I could hear her clicking, and then my phone beeped that I had a message.

I put her on speaker then looked at the email she’d sent. “Holy, Mother of God.” All the air left my chest.

“He is a looker. Just like Mr. Channing, in reverse? Dark hair, dark eyes, average size.” I nodded staring numbly at a picture of Mr. Alex Dubois, artist, on the screen. There was nothing average about this dude. He was a dead ringer for Ben Affleck. Only he had long hair that was pulled into a small bun at the top of his head and a mustache-beard combo. I couldn’t wait to see just how long that hair was. The man in a word?
Fine
!

I sucked in a sharp breath and released it slowly to relieve some of the heat that filled my body. “So, uh, what does he want me to do as his muse?”

“Not sure. I know he makes unusual art pieces. All one of a kind. They go for hundreds of thousands a piece. However, if you take your clothes off, he’s paying more. Period. If you have sex with him—and by God, what woman wouldn’t want to—“ She laughed. “—he is supposed to give you the additional twenty grand separately.”

“Can he demand that I take my clothes off?” I asked, suddenly feeling dirty. Immediately, I racked my brain trying to remember what I signed off on in the contract.

“No, no, no, that is most certainly
not
part of it. However, he did mention it when he booked you. I explained that it would cost him another twenty-five percent on top of his fee, and that was only if you agreed to it, and technically, he’s not to touch you sexually.”

Twenty-five percent was twenty-five thousand dollars. “Seriously? I’ll get another twenty-five thousand dollars if I let him paint nudes of me?”

“No doll-face, you’ll get twenty thousand. Exquisite Escorts gets twenty percent on top of your fee. That means five thousand goes to us and twenty to you.” I shrugged not really caring. I planned on taking my clothes off. That extra twenty thousand would help get me closer to my ultimate goal.  At the very least, it would pay Maddy’s unpaid school loans for her first year in school.

“Sign me up! As long as I don’t have to sleep with him, I’ll pose nude.” Even saying it out loud lacked sincerity. Boy, was I in trouble. I hadn’t even left Wes yet, and I was already drooling over the next guy in line. I’m a whore.

“You got it. Your flight will leave promptly on the first. Make sure you’re on that plane. Your last day officially with Mr. Channing should be January twenty-sixth. That will give you a few days to get yourself to the beautician, get your hair done, your body parts waxed, and all your unmentionables seen to.” That time I laughed out loud. “If that’s it, I’ll let you go…”

“Um, Aunt Millie?”

“Ms. Milan, remember?” she warned.

“Sorry. You realize I’m never going to call you that unless we’re in front of clients, right?” I said dead serious.

“What is it, Mia?” her tone lacked the love of a doting family member that time.

“Is it possible for one of the escorts to see their clients again? Personally?”

“Oh please, no. Please don’t tell me you’ve fallen for Mr. Channing?”

“No! No, that’s not it.” Not really, I told myself. It’s not, it’s really not. Probably. “It’s just that we’ve become friends, and I’d like to be able to continue that friendship without breaking any rules.”

Aunt Millie sighed loudly. “There are no rules per se, but you need to be careful, Mia. Men like that can promise a girl the world and never live up to that promise. Believe me, I’ve heard it all before. Too many times, in fact.”

“So there isn’t a rule?”

“No, just,” she let out a long breath, “protect your heart. This business isn’t for everyone, and you’ve had a hard road already. Take this time for yourself to have fun, let loose, and experience all that life has to offer. It’s probably one of the only times in your life that you’ll get the chance.” I choked down the rising emotional tide sitting just underneath the surface of my strong façade. “Call me when you meet up with Mr. Dubois. I’ll send everything via email.” That was the last thing she said before hanging up.

My aunt was right. I couldn’t let Wes convince me that this was something more than what it was. I had to go to Seattle. I would go to Seattle. I looked down at the phone. And Mr. Hot Artist Man was going to be my next experience.

***

“Honey, I’m home!” Wes’s voice boomed through the house and trickled outside where I was chilling in the heated pool. He entered the patio area in a suit and a smile. Christ, the guy was sexy. He was always good-looking, but there was something about the act of playing dress-up that I enjoyed. Maybe it was undressing him that I enjoyed more.

“You’re home early.” It was only two-thirty. I pulled myself up and out of the pool, and sat on the edge.

Wes stopped advancing toward me and stood still right at the edge of the pool. His gaze was on me but not on my eyes. He scanned my form with those emerald gems, the look so heated I could practically feel where they landed along my breasts, belly, thighs. I watched as he toed off his shoes then allowed his blazer to drop to the deck. As if cued, I leaned onto my hands arching my back suggestively, pressing my breasts out towards the sky and allowing my head to tip back. My legs opened a bit to balance me. The wisp of a bathing suit left nothing to the imagination, and when I lifted my head to see if my little show was working, I heard a heavy splash. Fully clothed, Wes’s form sluiced through the water. He was like a dark shark swimming toward its prey.

He made it to the edge of the pool in one go. His body shot out of the water looking all kinds of water godish. I leaned forward and gripped his wet tie and tugged him between my legs. His hands went to my knees and slid them wide apart.

“That was impulsive,” I said against his lips not yet kissing him, just allowing the water from the pool to drip between our mouths.

“Think so? Then you’re going to love this.” His mouth crashed over mine, his tongue seeking entrance. Wes kissed me as if he’d never get another chance, as though he was starving for the taste of my lips. I knew I was starving for a taste of him. “Been thinking of your taste all damned day,” he growled before dragging his tongue down my torso and between my breasts. He slipped his fingers into the skimpy triangles of the bikini and pushed the fabric aside, baring my breasts. My nipples promptly puckered tight at the change in temperature. “I dream of these beauties,” he said flicking the tip with his tongue before drawing it into the heat of his mouth. I cried out as my hands went to his head to hold him against me.

The sucking continued until I was squeezing his body against my form, trying to find some friction. When he had me on the edge of orgasm just from playing with my tits, something he loved doing, he pushed me back. I laid on the cold concrete, the chill reaching my bones until his clever fingers found the ties at the side of my bottoms and pulled. Oh, shit. He was going to do this right here, out in the open light of day.

“Wes,” I warned, but the warning didn’t carry much weight. I was too far gone in a haze of lust to put up much resistance. If Ms. Croft came upon us, she’d just keep on walking. She was pure class. Me, not so much. Wes nipped at the fleshy part of my thighs as he lifted each leg out of the water and set my feet on the pool’s edge bending my legs at a ninety degree angle. Then he clasped each knee and spread me open just like a bird’s wings opening to fly. And I did fly, the second his tongue touched down on that sensitive bundle of nerves. My hands flew to his head to hold him in place. He grabbed both of them and set them on the concrete and pushed them under my ass.

“Sit on ‘em, no touching,” he scolded. Ah, so that was how this was going to play out. He wanted full control. Shit, that meant he was going to take me beyond my limits and push me over the edge, over and over again. He’d done it once before. He’d given me so many orgasms that I passed out riding his cock. It was the most sensual, carnal experience of my life, until now.

With the tip of his fingers, he spread me open and used the flat of his tongue to send me into orbit. After one orgasm, he buckled down, holding my legs open, growling into my wet flesh. His next words were a dirty chant.

“Fucking you.”

“Tasting you.”

“Sucking you.”

“More. More.”

He growled low in his throat. “God, Mia, I could eat you all day,” he gritted through his teeth before sucking my clit into his mouth, hard. I soared into a second orgasm. My body was shaking until Wes gripped my waist and lifted my limp body up and pulled me back into the water.

The shock jolted my system. Nerves were firing off everywhere as the tingles from my orgasm started to dissipate. Before I could fully come back, he had my legs around his waist with my back against the edge of the pool.

“Going to take you so good, baby. I’m going to make sure you feel me, even when you’re gone.” He thrust into me hard. I don’t know when he did it, but his pants were floating somewhere in the pool, reminding me of a stingray on the ocean floor. Wes’s upper body was still completely clothed in dress shirt and tie. I clung to the wet fabric as he pounded into me. The chanting started again. I don’t think he even knew he was speaking. But I did, and I held onto every word, letting each clipped phrase singe into my memory so I could revisit this moment again and again when I needed him…missed him.

“I was here.” thrust

“Together.” thrust

“Fuck” thrust

“Love this” thrust

“Remember me.” thrust

“Remember me,” he said again, louder as he slammed into me, hitting that spot within that sent me reeling into the hardest, longest, release of my life. I screamed. My body no longer my own. My voice no longer my own. I came to with his mouth on mine and his tongue sweeping in and out. We were still connected as he walked me soaking wet into his room and laid me on the bed. He left me only long enough to remove his tie and shirt, and then crawled over me. He widened my legs and slipped into the oversensitive swollen tissue between my legs once more. Connected. 

He didn’t fuck me then. He made slow, agonizingly sweet love to me.

***

“Hello, skank! Long time no talk,” my best friend, Ginelle’s, voice came through the phone not only harsh but with a hint of genuine upset.

“Hooker, I’ve been working,” I tried but failed.

“Yeah, uh huh, riding Wes’s cock could be called work, I suppose,” she retorted, a tiny note of humor in her tone. My girl was forgiving me.

“Not all of us have talent and can dance like a goddess,” I countered.

“True...” she drew out the word making it a few syllables longer. 

“I miss you,” my voice shook, and I wanted to bitch-slap myself for letting the emotion out.

A deep sigh came through the line. “I miss your ugly face too. I get hit on a lot more when you’re around. You know, since I’m the pretty one.” And…we’re back to BFF status again.

“How’s my dad?” I asked, scared to hear her reply.

“Better physically. Still hasn’t woken up. They’ve moved him out of intensive care, so that’s a good sign.”

That was a good sign. It meant he’d live, but he wasn’t out of the woods yet. “Did they say anything about why he hasn’t come out of the coma?”

“They don’t tell me much, Mia. I’m not technically family. You know that.”

Now I sighed. Ginelle was more my family than the extended family I had on both sides. She was the only friend I trusted. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him for me. How about Maddy? I’ve only talked to her once, and that was for a few minutes when she was between classes. Seems like the full class load is kicking her ass.”