Perfect Ten (11 page)

“Fine, but I have two things before I go. One—you need to stop judging me on my appearance. I can’t help being good-looking. You’ll have to take that up with my mother. And two—I will be calling you every day so we can start getting to know each other. You better answer your phone.” That was all there was to say. So, without any further comments, I grabbed her a little more forcefully than I probably should have and kissed her just once more. Hard. Then I walked out, leaving my friends staring after me with big, goofy smiles on their faces. Especially Carrie.

T
he next day
,
I woke up early. It took a lot of willpower to make myself wait until nine o’clock to call Faith. I wondered if she’d even answer the phone. She did, and on the first ring.

“Hello, Joe.”

“Good morning. How was your night?”

“Well, I got manhandled by some overbearing guy in a bar, but aside from that, it was fine.”

I was glad to hear the humor in her voice. And pleasantly surprised that she actually picked up my call. “Really? Did you enjoy it? Sounds pretty hot.” I wondered if she’d engage in phone sex. Probably not. And definitely not while she was at work, I’m sure.

“It wasn’t horrible.”

“Wasn’t horrible, huh? Tell me what you liked.” All on its own, my voice dropped an octave. “Did you like the way my thigh pressed between your legs? Did you like the feel of my cock against you?” Jesus, this girl got me going. My sweats were already tenting.

“Joe! I’m at work.”

“Yeah, and I’m not. Want to know what I’m doing right now?”

“Um, no?” Ah, see? The good girl wanted to say no, but the other one, the one who was so hot it was like holding molten lava when she was in my arms, wanted me to tell her exactly what I was doing.

“You don’t sound sure. That sounded like a question, so I’m going to tell you.” I let out a breath as my hand stroked my cock through my pants. “I’m sitting here at my kitchen table, thinking about you. Not about last night, but about the night in the hotel room. I’m thinking about you spread before me like a feast fit for a king.”

“Uh-huh.”

“More? I want you to say it. You want more? You want me to tell you how hot you make me, Faith?”

“Faith? Are you in here?” Dammit. Someone was calling to her in the background.

She gave me a very unsteady, “Hold on, Joe.”

All I could hear after that was muffled conversation. “Joe, I have to go. Um, I’ll talk to you later?”

“You can count on it. One more thing before you go…”

“Yes?” Her voice was huskier than when she first answered the phone. I’d bet my last year’s income she was wet as hell for me.

“I just want you to know that I’m going to go take a shower now. And I’m going to stroke my cock, thinking about your gorgeous body until I can’t take it anymore. And when I come, it’s going to be your name on my lips.” I ended the call before she could reply. Then I took my shower and made good on my promise. And that’s the last time I’m jerking off to thoughts of her. Next time, she’s going to be touching me in some form…dammit.

* * *

I
didn’t call
her again that night, but the next day, I had an invitation hand delivered to her at work. It was an invitation I was pretty sure she wouldn’t say no to, and it was dated for two weeks from Sunday—when I would be officially unemployed.

When I had told her about my dog, Heidi, I noticed how her eyes lit up. Not everyone has that look when I talk about my pup. So, I set up a private picnic and tour at Lions, Tigers, and Bears. It was a place that means a lot to me, and one I donate to regularly.

Not only does the organization rescue lions, tigers, and bears, but they also have a menagerie of other animals, like horses, pigs, llamas, and goats, just to name a few.

LT&B didn’t have just a run-of-the-mill zoo-type of setting either. It encompassed almost one hundred acres of land and dated all the way back to the mid-1800s. I love it there. The huge, wide open spaces, the occasional roar of a big cat, and the millions of stars that fill the skies at night give me a sense of peace that I don’t quite get anywhere else. I couldn’t wait to share it with her. But first, I had to get through the next two weeks. Awesome.

T
he first of
my last five dates was a thirty-two-year-old former stripper.
Fucking fantastic
. Her name was Destiny (I swear to God that was her name), and I was taking her to the drag strip. Why someone would need to hire an escort to watch cars race was beyond me, but here I was, on my way to meet her at the track.

As soon as I drove through the archway into the parking lot, I saw her. Even if I hadn’t seen her picture, I’m pretty sure I could have picked her out. She looked like she was still in the stripping business, and if I was the old Joe, I would have been on that like a stallion to a seasoned mare. She had lush chestnut hair that fell down her back in soft waves, almost reaching her hips. Her store-bought tits strained against the confines of three tiny chains that crisscrossed in the front and struggled to hold her top together. I could clearly see her nipples poking through, making it abundantly clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Painted-on leather pants sculpted her magnificent ass and long, tapered legs. And I felt nothing. The biggest fucking machine known to Perfect Ten—felt nothing. Scary shit.

I’m pretty sure Faith ruined me. That slip of a girl who barely reached my chin ruined me. And the thought made me smile. Unfortunately, Destiny thought my smile was for her as I got out of my truck and walked over to her.

Giving me the slow once-over, she put her bloodred polished nails on my chest, lightly scratching. “Hi. You must be Joe.”

I took her hand and held on to it to keep her from rubbing me further. God, it sucked being there. I just didn’t want to do this anymore, but that wasn’t her fault. “It’s nice to meet you, Destiny. Shall we?” I gestured over to the concession stands, thinking we’d grab a beer or something before finding a spot on the aluminum bleachers.

“Nah. Let’s get out of here.”

Now I was even more confused as to why we were at the raceway. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh, come on, Joe.” Her hand was back on my chest as she walked close enough to whisper in my ear. “I’ve heard about you. I’m not interested in watching cars. I’m interested in your bedroom activities.” She licked my ear, which made me want to squirm away from her—another new feeling for me.

I gently pushed her away from me, which wasn’t as easy as it should have been since she didn’t want to be pushed away. “I’m sorry, Destiny. I think you have the wrong idea here. I’m only here to be your escort, although I will say I was a little surprised that you wanted to meet at the drag strip.”

“It’s the one place I don’t think my husband would look for me.”

Great. Another bored, rich wife. “Your husband. Okay, listen. I really am sorry, but I’m not going to have sex with you.” God, I couldn’t believe I was saying no. She was rubbing my chest again, and I wasn’t as ready to push her hand off me. Old habits and such, I guess. What can I say? I loved the touch of a woman, and I kept seeing Faith in my mind.

“We don’t have to actually have sex. Let me suck on that legendary cock I keep hearing about from my girlfriends who’ve had you. Please, Joe. You can do anything you want to me.”

I could tell she meant it. Any second now, I was going to put a stop to her roaming hands. Of course, my dick was hard, thinking about being sucked on and all. Maybe I could just have one last fling. You know, get it out of my system before I gave up all the women. Wait—no. What the fuck was I… Ah Christ. Her tongue was on my ear again, but this time it felt good, as it was accompanied by her hand reaching down into my pants.

I looked around, but no one was paying us any attention since we were still standing in the parking lot. I let her push me back against my truck and continue to stroke me. And then it happened. I closed my eyes as her lips found my neck, and all I saw was Faith.

Faith in her tight orange dress, the slit opening wide to bare her leg to my grateful eyes. Faith, trapped in the corner of the elevator as my hand caressed her bottom, feeling the silk of her thong. Faith as she moaned out her pleasure with my mouth on her pussy, tongue sliding in as deep as I could go. Fuck, I could feel it all. I could also feel my balls tightening up. Snapping back to reality, I jumped sideways, away from Destiny (and how’s that for irony, my Destiny) just in the nick of time, breathing deep, but no—I was wrong. It was too late. I could still hear Faith’s sexy moans in my mind. I could still remember the taste of her on my lips as I fucking came in my pants. Seriously. In. My. Pants.
Shit!
I’m the number one escort at Perfect Ten because I’m smooth. I’m high-class, sophisticated. I’m the crème de la crème. How the hell did something like that happen to
me
? God, I’m pathetic. My new mission in life is to become the fucking master of my own fucking dick.

The rest of the date was less than stellar. I’m not a hundred percent sure Destiny knew I came in my fucking pants or not.
Jesus.
I certainly wasn’t going to confirm it for her. I cleaned myself up in the bathroom the best I could. What a goddamn nightmare. So, we sat silently and watched some cars race down the track until she eventually left. One down, four more to go.

* * *

I
decided
to leave Faith alone on Sunday too. Two days with no contact, and I didn’t like it. I hadn’t heard back from her about the invitation I sent, but I decided to give her another day. Maybe she needed a little space to think about it.

There were no dates scheduled for me, so I spent the day with Heidi. We went for a run on the beach just as the sun was coming up.

“Want to take a break, girl?” We’d already gone about three miles when I picked out a spot in the sand to plop down in. With my hand buried in Heidi’s soft, black-and-brown fur, I thought about how my life was changing.

I only had one full year of college under my belt. The only classes I’d taken were the required ones. You know, the thirteenth frigging year of English, Algebra, History—all those types of classes. Last night, after my “date with Destiny,” I downloaded the application to California State University. They had an architecture program that I could complete mostly online. Some of the actual architecture classes I’d need to go to the brick-and-mortar school for. And that was fine. I’m not sure I’m disciplined enough to do all my work online. I was always a pretty good student, though.

The more I thought about it, the more excited I got. Maybe it was the beautiful streaks of yellows, oranges, reds, and pinks rising up out of the ocean—maybe it was even having my best friend sitting by my side, her head in my lap, but I felt happy. Truly happy with my decision to quit the escort business and go back to school. If I played my cards right, I could have it all. I could be twice the man my father was, and then maybe I could begin to forgive him.

My father was my rock growing up. Don’t get me wrong, my mom is great, but a boy looks up to his father in a different way. My father did everything right. I thought he was perfect.

He used to take me fishing off the pier before the crack of dawn. We’d sit there for hours, usually not catching a thing. But those hours were some of the best of my life. He’d ask me how school was going, how my friends were doing, and I’d ask him about the buildings he was working on at the firm. I mattered to him.

As good as he was to me, he was even better to my sister. He never let her feel like she couldn’t be part of the boy’s club. Her fishing pole was pink because he thought girls should have pretty things. I, of course, thought that was ridiculous at the time, but looking back, I realize it was he who taught me to always open doors for ladies. He was the one who taught me to wait until the ladies got off the elevator before I did. Most of all, he taught me to always treat a lady with respect (I may have stretched the boundaries on that one). He was a prince among men.

The day I found out he’d killed himself was the most horrific day of my life. It was also the day I let all my love for him die. Even now, almost twelve years later, I find it hard to remember all the good times. It’s like one bad decision undid all the good ones, but in my defense, it was one hell of a bad decision.

On that fateful day, Tracey and I were in the kitchen raiding the refrigerator for a snack before bed when we heard Mom screaming at our Uncle Mike.

“No! No, Mike! Why? How?” She was used to Dad working late, but even she had started to worry when he wasn’t home by nine o’clock and didn’t answer his phone at the office.

“Come on, Lauren. Breathe. Slow, deep breaths. That’s it.”

By that time, Tracey and I had made our way into the foyer where Uncle Mike was leading my mother into the living room, sitting her down on the couch. Her face was empty. That’s the only way I can describe it. I looked at her, and it was like she wasn’t even in her body. Her eyes were vacant. She stared at nothing without any expression to even hint at what was going on in her mind.

“Mom? Uncle Mike? What’s going on?” Tracey was beside me, already crying, not even knowing what she was crying for. I pulled her in close to me as we sat together on the other couch facing my mother.

“He’s dead. Your father’s dead.” Tracey grabbed on to me and cried all over my sweatshirt. She was just a ten-year-old kid. I think I could pinpoint that moment as the one that changed me. All I wanted to do was make everything okay for my mother and my sister. Sure, Tracey got on my nerves. She was six years younger than I was, but I swore to myself that I’d do everything I could to take care of both of them, since my cowardly father decided he didn’t want to anymore.

Uncle Mike had found my father in his office with a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head. The note he left basically said that he had a gambling problem, and he’d spent more money than he’d had, even stealing most of the money right out of Starling Architecture’s bank accounts.

Over the next several weeks, we learned that Dad had indeed had massive debts that we could never pay off. We lost the house, the cars, everything.

The firm was just able to stay afloat, and Uncle Mike tried to help us, but my mother flat-out refused any financial assistance. She picked up her life as best as she could. With her head held high, she took a job as a secretary at Tracey’s grade school. With that job, she was able to afford a two-bedroom, rat-infested apartment in a bad section of the Hills. I swore right then that I would get her out of that dump. It took me a little over four years, but I did it.

Sometimes I wonder if I became an escort solely to help my mother and sister. I mean, I think that’s why I did it. It’s what I’ve always told myself, anyway. But when I’m thinking about my father, and being baldly honest with myself, I can’t help but wonder if part of me took that job just because I knew my father would not have approved. Pretty deep thoughts for a boy-toy, huh? Yeah. I was definitely ready for a change.

“Come on, girl. Let’s go home and get cleaned up. We’ve got a day of doing nothing ahead of us. Sounds kind of nice, huh?” I got up and brushed myself off, clipping Heidi’s leash back on since I could see the beach patrol walking toward us. I was probably going to get another fine for having my dog on the beach past eight o’clock in the morning, but I didn’t care. I needed her with me.