“Wait,” she says with both hands pushing on my chest. “Wait.” She steps away from my embrace.
The room spins again. I question if it’s the absence of her or the liquor running through me.
“Sorry, I can’t.” She finally says stumbling further back. Her eyes are gleaming. Shit, is she . . . ? Is she going to cry?
I squint my eyes. Yes, those are goddamn tears.
With a long stride, I close the distance she imposed between us.
My teenage impulses and lack of finesse just ruined this for her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Sorry. Fuck. I got carried away. Too fast, huh?” I run my hands over my hair. “Fuck. I’m not usually like this. I’ll, um, I’ll slow down.”
I hold my fucking breath. She can’t back down. Not because of the money. My fee is ensured if a client has a change of heart. It’s paid in advance. It’s just that I haven’t wanted to complete a job for my own satisfaction in a long time, as in never. Hell, I don’t think this is even a job anymore. My body yearns for hers. I crave being inside her now, as I have never desired another client.
“It’s not you, Seth. I mean you’re . . .” She waves a hand toward my body. “You are you. ” Her eyes scan my body appreciatively. “It’s just that . . .” Her voice trails off. Her face is bright red.
“You don’t want to do it. This is too awkward for you. I get it.” Shit.
“I do,” she says hastily. “I mean I really want to. I, uh, I just can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.” She shakes her head to emphasize her words.
Fucking an escort isn’t for everybody. Many of my colleagues have tales of women breaking down on the brink of having sex. However, this is the first time a woman declined my services.
It’s time to be professional and make this easy for her.
“Sorry, my fault. I rushed you. I, uh, I’m sorry. I’m not usually this impulsive and . . . Fuck . . . Sorry . . . I mean if you want a re—” Before I complete the offer for a refund her hands flash to my lips.
“No . . . no . . .” She shakes her head apologetically. “It’s not you. It’s me. You were perfect. Really.”
I smile. Poor thing is trying not to bruise my ego. That’s such a refreshing concept. Most clients treat me like what they pay for. A fuck.
But here she is, filled with worry and genuine concern for me and my shitty excuse for a performance.
“The truth is, I um . . .” she says, but stops before the words fall from her lips.
“What?” My brows furrow and I lean in.
“Never mind.”
“Do tell, Cherry Lips.”
“What did you call me?”
“Your painted lips, they remind me of a bowl of cherries on a lazy summer afternoon.” I let my fingers run over her lips. “But what is it? If you don’t want to, fine. I totally respect that. But if there’s something I’m doing wrong, tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
First, because fucking her is my goddamn job and fuck me if I don’t do what it takes to perfect a job with complete customer satisfaction. Secondly and perhaps more importantly: my balls are blue.
“Promise you won’t laugh,” she begs. Her eyes are uncertain.
“Pinky promise.” I raise my hand to offer her my pinky. Way to pussify a man. I’m lame as hell. Not only is my dick behaving like a teenager, now my brain has joined the party.
She giggles and I immediately forgive myself for the lame ass comment.
With her pinky linked to mine, she sighs. “Well, I don’t know how to say this.”
I raise our linked fingers in reassurance. “Spill it, Cherry Lips.”
“It’s just that I’ve never done this before.” She speaks in a hurry as if afraid the words won’t get out.
“I know.” I look at her, confused.
“You know, is it that obvious? I mean, you seem experienced and all. But can you tell I’m a virgin?” Her cheeks turn bright red.
“Oh.” What? In slow motion, I process her words. It’s her first time having sex. She is a virgin. “Oh. Okay.” Shit.
It dawns on me that her
The room spins again. I question if it’s the absence of her or the liquor running through me.
“Sorry, I can’t.” She finally says stumbling further back. Her eyes are gleaming. Shit, is she . . . ? Is she going to cry?
I squint my eyes. Yes, those are goddamn tears.
With a long stride, I close the distance she imposed between us.
My teenage impulses and lack of finesse just ruined this for her. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Sorry. Fuck. I got carried away. Too fast, huh?” I run my hands over my hair. “Fuck. I’m not usually like this. I’ll, um, I’ll slow down.”
I hold my fucking breath. She can’t back down. Not because of the money. My fee is ensured if a client has a change of heart. It’s paid in advance. It’s just that I haven’t wanted to complete a job for my own satisfaction in a long time, as in never. Hell, I don’t think this is even a job anymore. My body yearns for hers. I crave being inside her now, as I have never desired another client.
“It’s not you, Seth. I mean you’re . . .” She waves a hand toward my body. “You are you. ” Her eyes scan my body appreciatively. “It’s just that . . .” Her voice trails off. Her face is bright red.
“You don’t want to do it. This is too awkward for you. I get it.” Shit.
“I do,” she says hastily. “I mean I really want to. I, uh, I just can’t. I thought I could, but I can’t.” She shakes her head to emphasize her words.
Fucking an escort isn’t for everybody. Many of my colleagues have tales of women breaking down on the brink of having sex. However, this is the first time a woman declined my services.
It’s time to be professional and make this easy for her.
“Sorry, my fault. I rushed you. I, uh, I’m sorry. I’m not usually this impulsive and . . . Fuck . . . Sorry . . . I mean if you want a re—” Before I complete the offer for a refund her hands flash to my lips.
“No . . . no . . .” She shakes her head apologetically. “It’s not you. It’s me. You were perfect. Really.”
I smile. Poor thing is trying not to bruise my ego. That’s such a refreshing concept. Most clients treat me like what they pay for. A fuck.
But here she is, filled with worry and genuine concern for me and my shitty excuse for a performance.
“The truth is, I um . . .” she says, but stops before the words fall from her lips.
“What?” My brows furrow and I lean in.
“Never mind.”
“Do tell, Cherry Lips.”
“What did you call me?”
“Your painted lips, they remind me of a bowl of cherries on a lazy summer afternoon.” I let my fingers run over her lips. “But what is it? If you don’t want to, fine. I totally respect that. But if there’s something I’m doing wrong, tell me, and I’ll fix it.”
First, because fucking her is my goddamn job and fuck me if I don’t do what it takes to perfect a job with complete customer satisfaction. Secondly and perhaps more importantly: my balls are blue.
“Promise you won’t laugh,” she begs. Her eyes are uncertain.
“Pinky promise.” I raise my hand to offer her my pinky. Way to pussify a man. I’m lame as hell. Not only is my dick behaving like a teenager, now my brain has joined the party.
She giggles and I immediately forgive myself for the lame ass comment.
With her pinky linked to mine, she sighs. “Well, I don’t know how to say this.”
I raise our linked fingers in reassurance. “Spill it, Cherry Lips.”
“It’s just that I’ve never done this before.” She speaks in a hurry as if afraid the words won’t get out.
“I know.” I look at her, confused.
“You know, is it that obvious? I mean, you seem experienced and all. But can you tell I’m a virgin?” Her cheeks turn bright red.
“Oh.” What? In slow motion, I process her words. It’s her first time having sex. She is a virgin. “Oh. Okay.” Shit.
It dawns on me that her
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