Chapter Three
Luther
Her picture on the website doesn’t do her justice. Odette is stunning, a vision that would haunt anyone’s dreams—long, dark hair that shimmers under the hotel lighting, skin so pale it’s almost luminescent, like it’s never been touched by the sun. Her blood-red lips curl into a faint smile, and her khaki-colored eyes—unusual, but piercing—seem to probe directly into my soul. Her voice, when she speaks, is a contradiction; raspy yet dripping with a sugar-spun seductiveness that makes my stomach tighten.
She’s bold, no question about it. She knows exactly what tonight is about, and I like that. I’ve hired escorts before, and while they understand the arrangement, they’re usually shy or hesitant at first. Not Odette. She’s unapologetically confident, looking me up and down before announcing, “You better make this worth my time, Luther. I expect a good fucking tonight.”
Her bluntness catches me off guard, and I feel a rare grin tug at the corner of my mouth. I’m already hooked. My proclivities aren’t exactly run-of-the-mill, and my therapist has called out my “addictive personality” more times than I care to remember. My mother, though? She used a different word; obsessive. It’s why I don’t date. I fuck them and leave them before I get too attached, before the compulsions creep back in. Because when I care about someone, I need to know everything about them. I want to keep them safe. I want them to be mine in every conceivable way.
That’s what got me in trouble before—my so-called ‘stalking tendencies.’ Phillip, my best friend, understands. He’s the only one who does, probably because he’s just as fucked up as I am. When he told me he had to skip our monthly ‘share night’ because he had something to do, I knew exactly what he meant. He’s tailing someone, probably some new obsession he’s latched onto. I’ve been there. Back in college, it consumed me—first Whitney, then Lola. I barely ate, barely slept. I just watched them, learned everything that made them who they were. It wasn’t love. It was something darker.
But tonight isn’t about them. Tonight is about Odette.
“Shall we go to dinner then?” she asks, breaking into my thoughts.
“We shall,” I reply, holding out my arm. She links hers with mine, and her touch sends a jolt through me, electric and immediate. “I made us a reservation at Marc’s Nippon.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “Ooo, that’s a hard one to get into. I haven’t even tried it yet, and I’m here… a lot.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are, baby. I’m sure you are.”
The restaurant is just around the corner from the lobby. As we approach the hostess stand, I notice the subtle sway of her hips, and the way her outfit clings to her body like it’s been painted on. She’s a work of art, and I can’t help but admire her.
“I have a reservation. Under Luther Hagan,” I tell the hostess.
She scans her tablet, then looks up with a polite smile. “Party of three?”
“No, the other gentleman had to back out. It’ll just be the two of us.”
“Perfect.” She grabs two menus and leads us to a booth tucked away in the corner. “Your server will be Mandy. She’ll be right with you.”
Odette slides into the booth first and I follow, sitting beside her instead of across. She doesn’t seem to mind. She grabs her menu and begins scanning it, her manicured fingers tracing the text. I should be doing the same, but I’m too busy watching her, memorizing every angle and curve of her face. Her complexion is flawless, like she’s permanently using one of those photo filters, but it’s real. It’s her.
“So, Luther,” she says, her voice pulling me out of my trance. “Do you like wine? I was thinking of ordering a bottle of their best red.”
“Whatever you want, Odette. My treat. I’ll enjoy whatever you enjoy.”
She bats her lashes dramatically, a playful smirk on her lips. “Quite the charmer. No need to try so hard, babe. You’re already getting in these pants… guaranteed.”
I tilt my head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “When I’m done with you, there might be nothing left of those pants,” I say with a wink.
“We’ll see,” she teases, leaning in closer. Her scent hits me then—subtle but intoxicating, like rain-drenched roses. “Maybe I like it rough.”
“We’ll see, indeed.”
The moment stretches, her eyes locked with mine. I lean in to kiss her, something I never do with escorts. It’s against my rules; too intimate, too personal. But there’s something about her that makes me want to break all my rules.
Before our lips can meet, Mandy arrives, her cheerful voice shattering the tension. “Hello! I’m Mandy, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with something to drink?”
Odette sits back, giving Mandy her full attention. “We’ll take a bottle of the Gaja Sori Tildin 2017. And a water, please.”
“Excellent choice. With that bottle, I’ll need a card for preauthorization.”
I pull my wallet from my back pocket and hand over my AMEX. “Here you go.”
“Thank you. Would you like any appetizers to start?”
“Yes,” I say, glancing at the menu briefly. “We’ll take the sweet and spicy gyoza.”
“And the Wagyu tartar. Please find the bloodiest pieces you have. I like to dip the Wagyu in the natural juices.” Odette’s lips curve into a grin, and her eyes glint with desire.
“A carnivore. I like that. And a woman who isn’t afraid to eat? I like that too,” I reply.
Mandy jots down the order and disappears, leaving us alone again. Odette turns back to me, her expression thoughtful. “You’re an interesting man, Luther. You have this air about you… like you’re used to getting what you want.”
I smirk. “And you? You’re not exactly the shy and reserved type.”
“Why would I be? Life’s too short to waste time pretending to be something I’m not.”
Her words hit me harder than they should. There’s an edge to her tone, a weight behind her casual statement that makes me wonder what’s hiding beneath the surface. She’s not just confident; she’s calculating, like she’s sizing me up, deciding if I’m worth her time.
I lean back, letting my eyes roam over her. “What’s your story, Odette?”
She laughs, low and throaty. “My story? It’s not as interesting as you might think.”
“Try me.”