Kaden (Recherché series) (5 page)

“Yeah, I’m home.” I try not to sound like an arse, I really do.

“Hey Kaden.” I turn in the direction of the voice and see Lacey standing in the kitchen doorway wearing daisy dukes and a tank top that’s practically hanging off her chest, showing her bra. Melissa is next to her, but she flashes me a wry smile before pushing off the wall and moving over to the sofa. A couple of other people are lounging about in the front room, drinking beer.

“Hey, Lacey.” I say and have to squeeze past her to get into the kitchen. I set the coffee machine on timer and tidy away the few empty bottles that are littering the side. I’m not that guy, but I’m just burnt out right now and can’t find the energy to be Ethan’s wingman. I chuck a bottle in the recycle bin and still when I feel fingers trace between my shoulder blades.

“Lacey…” I know it’s her without even looking.

“You seem tense, Kaden.” Oh, boy. 

I turn to face her and step back out of her reach. But of course I can’t be an arsehole so I smile. “I just have a headache. It was a really long day at the hospital.”

Before I can do anything or react, she presses her body against mine and pushes up on tiptoes, trying to kiss me. I grip her shoulders, holding her away from me with a frown. She has the slightly glazed over eyes of someone who’s had too much to drink. The sways slightly and takes a step back. I wait for her to say something, but she doesn’t. Instead she ducks her head and scoops a strand of dark hair behind her ear, looking as though she’s hurt. Fuck this. I have tried the whole dating thing, but honestly, being an escort and trying to date… the two just do not go together. Let’s be honest, no girl is going to want to date a guy who fucks women for a living, which leaves you with lying. So what’s the point? Admittedly, that leaves room for a casual fuck, but why? Why the hell would I want to sleep with some random girl when I get paid to do that exact thing?

“You should go home, Lacey. Sleep it off.”

A frown line mars her features and she glares at me. “What, you’re too good for me now? You’ve had a taste and you’re done.”

Honestly, I’m tired and bored. I’m not going to sit here and explain myself to her. Instead I just walk out of the kitchen, heading straight for my room.

“Dude! Where are you going?” Ethan calls at me as I walk past the group in the living room.

“Bed. I have an early day again tomorrow.” I offer as explanation before opening the door into the hallway. I get the expected grumbling and people calling me a pussy. I don’t care. In the last year my life has gone from parties, university and easy sex, to working more hours than should be physically possible, earning more money than most people dream of, and seeing sex as work, rather than play. My idea of down time is an early night, or a good gym session. Oh, how times change.

I go to the reception desk of the hotel and give them my name as instructed. The girl on the desk types something on the computer and then smiles brightly before handing me the key.

“Take the elevator to the top floor, then take a left, it’s the door at the end of the hall. The junior suite.” I nod and listen, even though I know exactly where I’m going because this is the exact same place I’ve met Melanie the last three times I’ve seen her.

I take the lift up and when I’m standing outside the inconspicuous looking door I suddenly feel nervous. Melanie seems to get me like that and I don’t know why. I’ve never been nervous about a job, not even my very first one. I take a deep breath and swipe the card over the reader. The door clicks loudly and the little red dot on the handle turns green. I push the door open and step inside, sinking into the thick carpet.

Melanie is standing by the window again, looking out over the view of London, it’s lights twinkling below like fireflies.

“Kaden.” She says my name, but doesn’t turn around. It’s that cold indifference of hers that puts me so on edge.

“Melanie.” I shove my hands in the pockets of my suit trousers, trying to seem casual and decidedly more confident than I feel. She turns to face me, keeping her arms folded over her chest. Today she’s wearing a light grey dress which is perfectly tailored to every contour of her body. Her dark hair is loose and hanging over one shoulder.

Swinging her hips gracefully, she moves towards me. Her eyes roam over my body casually, surveying and studying everything.

“Take your jacket off.” She orders. I unfasten the two buttons and shrug out of the jacket, draping it over the back of the sofa. Instead of stopping in front of me, she starts to circle around behind me. I wait for her to touch me, but she never does. She just looks, keeping one arm over her chest and the other raised, allowing her to tap her index finger over her bright red lips. “Shirt.” She says it quietly, but still manages to make it an order.

I inhale deeply and loosen my tie, pulling it through my collar and putting it down next to my jacket. She watches intently as I remove my shirt. Still she circles, slowly, methodically. I imagine this is how a gazelle must feel when it senses the presence of a lion, wary, nervous. My senses seem ultra attuned, listening to the way her heels sink softly into the carpet when she’s in my blind spot. It’s ridiculous, I mean, what’s she going to do? But she just makes me uneasy. I remove my cufflinks and then the shirt, placing the cufflinks on the table and the shirt next to the jacket and tie. It’s all very controlled. I’m used to passion and spontaneity, not this. But this is her, this is what she does. This is how she does it.

She finally comes to a halt in front of me. Her fingers wrap around my belt, prying it from the buckle and roughly yanking it open. Well this is different. Every time I’ve come here it’s been the same, jacket and shirt off, tied to the bed while she rides my face. Would I choose it? No. It drives me fucking mad. But she’s the client, and she’s paying me to do a job. If that job involves eating pussy…for five grand, I’ll chow the fuck down.

Those dark eyes of hers fix on my face as she undoes the belt. Her expression remains completely impassive, like a statue. I stand there like her own personal doll, mute while she shoves my trousers and boxers down. I kick my shoes off and step out of my remaining clothes. I’m completely naked, while she’s still fully clothed. I square my shoulders and stand shamelessly in front of her. She’s a hard woman to read, but I feel as though I’m gradually starting to understand her. She likes power, pure and simple. The restraints, the orders, the ice cold demeanor. She wouldn’t be the first to get off on the thrill of power, and she sure as shit won’t be the last. If it’s dominion over me she wants, then while she’s paying me my five grand she can have at it. Plus, I have to admit, I’m curious what she has in store for me, because I’ve come to find her brand of torture alarmingly hot considering all she does is leave me with blue balls.

“Get on the bed. On your back, hands above your head.” She instructs. Same as before. She gets my tie and winds it around my wrists, securing me to the headboard. Again. When she yanks the material tight against my skin, my dick twitches, hardening against my stomach. She moves away and I’m expecting the strip tease from last time, but I don’t get it. She goes to her handbag and takes something out before walking back to my side. When she lifts her hand I see that it’s a silk scarf. Pulling it tight between her hands she holds it in front of my face and cocks an eyebrow, a wordless question. She wants to blindfold me. I lift my head and she wraps the material around my face, tying it at the back of my head. I lay there on the bed, naked, bound and blindfolded. I listen for her footsteps, but they’re so muted by the carpet that I can’t work out where she is. I hear the hushed rustle of material, the lowering of a zip, something hitting the floor. My heartbeat rises as the anticipation builds. The bottom of the bed dips so I know she’s on here with me, but she makes no move to touch me. The first thing I feel is a warm breath, right across my cock. I tense, waiting. It’s long seconds before I feel the tentative brush of her tongue and my senses are so over alert that the small touch has my abs tensing like a steel band has been wrapped around me. I grit my teeth, panting through the sensation that has my entire body on edge, trembling desperately.

“When you deprive someone of one sense, their others become more attuned.” She says slowly, her voice husky. “They stop seeing and they start feeling.” I say nothing and feel the light scratch of her nails over my abs, then it’s gone. Again, I get the hint of her breath against my cock, before she swipes her tongue, root to tip. My arms tense, fighting the restraints. The more I fight though, the tighter they pull, cutting into my skin. Her fingers wrap around my ankles and push, until my legs are bent and spread with my feet flat on the mattress. And then my balls are in her mouth. Both. At the same time. She pulls and sucks, rolling them around in her mouth and dragging her tongue over the seam between them. I’ve had some serious blow jobs in my time, and ball sucking has never really done much for me, but all I can say is I’ve clearly never come across a woman who really knew how to suck some balls. She pulls away and my balls slip from between her lips, making me groan. Her tongue dips lower, flattening against my taint in a way that makes me clench and tremble. Jesus, the woman’s mouth is equal parts heaven and hell.

Without warning she fucking swallows my dick. Her lips touch my balls and my cock hits the back of her throat. A choked groan escapes my lips and her hand slides between my legs, her finger brushing over my taint, teasing, tickling. Without any fucking warning she slides lower and her finger brushes my arsehole. I tense, flinching away from her instinctively. She releases my cock with a small pop.

“Shh.” She presses her finger more firmly against my arse and I’m seriously uncomfortable. “Relax, Kaden. I promise you’ll like it.” Can I even argue the point if I don’t? I’m an escort, not to mention the fact that I’m tied up.

She slides my cock back in her mouth, working over me until I’m thrusting up against her, barely able to think about anything that isn’t her lips, her tongue, the graze of her teeth. I’m hurtling towards an orgasm, when she slides her finger in my arse. I don’t have time to think about it as she pulls forward, applying pressure to one specific point. I come instantly. Well, come would be an understatement, it’s like a volcano just went off. I have never come so hard in my life. She pulls away, removing her finger and her mouth from me. I lay there breathing heavily and covered in a sheen of sweat. By the time I’ve recovered she’s moved off the bed. I wait, expecting her to make a move towards me, but all I hear is the rustle of material again. Her fingers brush my face and she press my cheek away from her roughly, yanking on the knot of the scarf. The material falls away from my face and I blink against the sudden light. She’s standing over me, and again, she’s fully dressed. She releases my wrists and I rub over the imprint left on my skin, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

Turning away she picks up her hand bag. “Melanie.”

She pauses, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Is uh, is there nothing I can do for you?” It seems kind of backwards.

For the first time, I see a smile pull at the corner of her lips. She turns around fully to face me and props her hands on her hips. “This isn’t about who comes.” She steps closer to me. “This is about power and control, and I have it.” She reaches out and traces her finger over my lower lip.

“That’s it?”

She smirks, dropping her eyes to my lips. “Oh, Kaden. My particular fantasy involves so much more, but you’ll see.”  She turns and leaves, and I’m no closer to working out what the hell she wants.

The next day I pull up outside Thor’s earlier than usual. I’m not at the hospital today, so I plan to go to work out before I have to go see Penelope later. As soon as I step into the living area at the agency, Cora pushes off the sofa, storming over to me with her arms folded over her chest.