M sends Rupert away. The look he gives me as he leaves tells me I’m about to pay for fleeing my first job. Reaching out, she roughly grabs my hair and pulls me to my feet. ‘You ever pull a stunt like this again,’ she snarls in my face, ‘I’ll fucking kill you.’
I know it isn’t an idle threat. M means every word. I’ve seen with my own eyes exactly what this woman is capable of.
So here I am, twenty-three years old, and still turning tricks for a woman I’m terrified of. A woman I loathe. Trapped in a world I can’t escape.
After that first terrible night, M made me an exclusive escort. She couldn’t risk me displeasing one of her clients in that way again. Now I have twenty regular clients—that’s all. I only work four nights a week, unless a special request comes up, but that doesn’t happen very often. M showed me some kindness through all of this, though, by allowing me to set some limits, including the age of my clients: forty-five is my cut off, as well as no photographs, no kissing, no bondage, no bodily fluids on my face, and no anal. Definitely no anal. That part of my anatomy is off limits. No ifs or buts. No pun intended.
Not all of my men expect sex; some just require companionship or dates for charity events and functions. I love those clients the most. At the end of the day though, my men pay big dollars for me, so I make sure they get their money’s worth, one way or another.
My leather office chair creaks when I lean back into it as Natalie from accounting wraps her lips around my cock, bringing it to life. To my father’s disgust, I’ve had sexual liaisons with most of the women who work here. Well, the single, hot and age appropriate ones, anyway. I only do it to piss my father off. I don’t need to pick up at work; I can have anyone I want. I’m yet to come across a woman who can say no to me.
My head snaps up when the office door flies open. Shit. I told Amy, my secretary, I didn’t want to be disturbed.
‘You can’t go in there, Clarissa.’ I hear the panic in Amy’s voice when she calls out from the reception area. Fucking Clarissa. What the hell does she want?
Natalie’s lips loosen as she draws her head back. Placing my hand on top of her hair, I hold her firmly in place. She’s always been a good sport, plus she’s under my desk and out of sight. If anything, the blowjob will help me get through this unwanted conversation with Clarissa.
Clarissa gives Amy a dirty look before slamming the door in her face. I wish I could stop her coming here, but I know my father wouldn’t hear of it. She’s the precious only daughter of one of his oldest friends.
‘What do you want, Clarissa?’
‘Oh, that’s a really nice way to talk to your fiancée.’
Fiancée? Not this shit again. ‘I’m not your fucking fiancé, Clarissa.’
‘I beg to differ. I’ve just come from a visit with your father. He still wants us to get married,’ she says smugly, coming to sit on the corner of my desk. Let him fucking marry her. All my life that prick has tried to control me.
My angry eyes meet hers. She’s beautiful, I’ll give her that, but that’s where my compliments end, because she has an ugly heart. At school, she was known as the ice queen. It suited her perfectly, and that voice. It’s like nails on a damn blackboard. I can’t stand being around her for more than a few minutes, so the thought of being married to her—no fucking way. Not happening.
‘I’m not marrying you, so give it a rest, will you? My father has no say in who I marry.’
She folds her arms over her chest and pouts as crocodile tears appear in her eyes. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I have to suppress an eye roll. Who’s she trying to kid? I’ve known this woman for most of my life and she doesn’t have a sympathetic bone in her body. I’ve seen her work this bullshit with her father. She can turn her tears on and off like a damn tap. ‘You can cut the hurt act too. That shit won’t work on me.’
Natalie’s lips curve into a smile around my cock as a muffled giggle escapes her. It sends a vibration down the length of my shaft. Clearing my throat, I loosen my tie.
Clarissa stands. ‘I want my damn engagement ring, Brock,’ she says, stamping her foot like a child.
Christ, I think I’m gonna blow. Shit, not now.
Being the head of a global security company, I’m trained to stay cool under any situation, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to pull it off this time. ‘You’ll be waiting an awfully long time, sweetheart, because I have no intentions of ever marrying y—’ Fuck. Here it comes. My hands fist in my short dark hair as I tilt my head towards the ceiling. ‘Sweet Jesus,’ I groan as my orgasm shoots through me.