Chapter Fourteen
SIMON
I spend the week trying to study for my nursing exam and not think about Sebastian. One of those things goes better than the other.
Spoiler, it wasn’t my microbiology notes that had me missing another body against mine in the shower. Or feeling like my bed was too empty, even with Penelope curled up by my feet.
When Brennan calls me out to work a party Friday night, I’m relieved. Which is saying something, because I fucking hate these fucking things.
I pull up outside an obscenely large oceanfront house, where things must already be underway. We’ve got cocky young guys streaming into the place, and half-dressed sorority girls streaming out, music blasting.
Troy, Adam, and Ravi get out of the car behind me. Adam whistles. “Will you look at the size of this place?”
“Ten thousand square feet, easy,” Troy says.
I cut around a sloppily parked catering van to see terraced steps with giant potted plants dotted along the sides. Some kid’s throwing up into one of them.
“Great. I can already tell this is going to be a shitshow.”
Adam and Troy mumble their agreement.
Ravi’s eyes are so wide you’d think he’d never been to a party. Maybe he hasn’t.
Then I hear a voice I never wanted to hear again. “All right, looks like the entertainment’s here!”
Tony, the bad-in-bed piece of shit who happens to be still married to Sebastian, is standing at the entrance to the house.
He’s looking down on us like we’re his subjects and he’s our benevolent leader.
I never liked having sex with that guy, but not liking a client doesn’t get in the way if the money’s good.
Suddenly, though, I’m grossed out by the fact that I’ve let his dick inside me.
Especially the way he’s standing there looking smug and wearing the worst suit I’ve ever seen. And this is coming from someone who grew up wearing what can only be described as “Amish chic.”
His suit’s got sequins, for fuck’s sake.
“Who wears a suit made of sequins?” Ravi asks beside me.
Not Sebastian. Even covered in what looked like a dried coffee stain, he was classy as hell the night we met. Charcoal slacks that fit just right around the crotch and shirts that hugged his arms. I’d bet money he gets that shit tailored.
“That bag of dicks right there.” I nod toward Tony.
Tony, who has the gall to come down the stairs, grabs my hands and kisses me on both cheeks as if we’re long-lost buddies. “Simon! Sooo good to see you again.”
Gross. Gross. Gross.
I tell myself the shiver that goes through my body is only because the night is breezy and unseasonably cool, and not at all because after having had Sebastian’s hands on me, Sebastian’s dick inside me, it doesn’t feel right to be touching someone else. If that were true, I’d really be fucked.
“Okay, so you guys will be performing on the main floor. Dancing good, fooling around with each other even better, other partygoers at your discretion.”
Ravi swallows audibly beside me.
“Wait.” I put my arm out to stop Adam before he can climb the rest of the steps into the house. I’m busy glaring at Tony. “Did you hire us?”
“Me? God no. The host did.” Tony, the guy who hired me probably half a dozen times in the last year and paid me for sex, slaps his hand to his chest as if he’s scandalized.
“If you ask me, the whole go-go dancing thing is done to death, but whatever.” Tony leads the way into the party.
Whatever. We’re getting paid. “Fine. Where can we get changed?”
“On the first floor, toward the back, there’s an office with a door and a private bathroom. You guys can get changed there. But hurry. Remember you’re on the clock.”
I think I’m gonna say that next time I get hired by a client who has trouble getting an erection.
By the time we’re changed, all of us wearing some variation on the standard “uniform” for these sorts of things—booty shorts with a tank top, or booty shorts with no tank top, you get the idea—and about to head out to the floor, Ravi is looking so pale that his typically brown skin looks practically Caucasian.
“You okay?” I give him a once-over, checking for any obvious signs of medical distress. He’s probably not going to want me to grab his arm and check his pulse, but I don’t want any newbies passing out on my watch.
He nods a little too fast. “Sure. Definitely. Yep. Yes. I mean, a little nervous. But I’m good. Also—” He gestures to where Adam and Troy are huddled in the corner. “—Adam was testing his blood sugar, and I don’t do so well with the sight of blood.”
“Sorry, man. All done now.” Troy’s holding a little glucometer up to Adam’s finger. It beeps, and he says something in Adam’s ear before packing it away in his gym bag.
I’m about to enter the party when a hand grabs my arm. I’m taken back to when I first met Sebastian, when his bruising fingers dug into my skin. I’m flushed with heat before I realize it’s not him, and I’m staring at Ravi’s worried face.
“Umm. You’ve still got a lot of bruises.”
Before I glance down, I already know what I’ll find.
I chose to wear all white for tonight’s festivities, which will pop under the black lights they always tend to have at these things, hopefully making the marks harder to see.
If I’d seen someone who looked like me on the street, though, I’d have pulled them aside to ask if they needed help.
I may need help.
Most of me aches, especially where Ravi’s grabbing me. It takes focus not to take my mind back to the activities that created these marks.
“It’ll be fine. The lighting is dim. Everyone out there is wasted. Chances are good nobody will even notice.” I try to shrug, to act casual and carefree, even though I’m looping fast through anger and horniness and back again at these lingering reminders of how foolish I was last week.
Never mind how extremely hot it was, how I wouldn’t mind doing it again. Damn that gorgeous scar-faced bastard for being precisely what I want in bed. What I hate wanting.
“Tell you what.” Ravi’s still looking uncertain, so I take him by the hand and pull him toward the door. “You can help me out.”
“H-how?”
We make our way out to the floor. There’s a makeshift dance area with drunk people grinding on each other.
The perimeter is loosely marked by four mini mirrored platforms, which I assume are where we should put ourselves.
I’d ask, but I don’t know who the host is, and I’ll do many things before seeking out Tony to ask for information.
One of the platforms is in use. Two curvy bottle blonds who have misplaced their tops are dancing and making out while many bros in backward ball caps look on. I lead Ravi to another one and pull him up with me.
“Here,” I say as I pull him close. “You dance with me. You’ll feel less exposed having someone to share the platform with, and having another person in front of me will make my bruises less obvious. Like Brennan says, ‘Always look for the win-win.’”
Look at this shit. Simon, gay sherpa to the baby hos. Who would have seen that coming?
A bass-heavy techno track plays. I move in time to the pulsing lights with my arms thrown loosely around Ravi, hoping he’ll get into the groove. After a moment of hesitation, he does.
“You’re right,” he half shouts over the music, “dancing with someone else feels less scary.”
I nod my understanding. “The first one of these I ever did, I was in the center of a room wearing nothing but a pair of sneakers and what can loosely be described as a thong. I felt so weird and exposed. The more you do it, though, the easier it gets.”
His lips are pursed, his forehead wrinkled thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”
“Everything’s hard until it isn’t. Brennan told me that. Some of the best advice he’s given me.”
“You almost sound like you like him.” Ravi looks surprised. “He seems kind of dangerous.” Though the twink almost has a gleam in his eye. Maybe it’s all the flashing lights in this place.
“Brennan’s a complicated guy. At the end of the day, I respect him, and I’ve learned to listen to what he says. For example: Did he give you the standard rules for these types of parties?”
“Sex at your own risk, no illegal substances, and afterward you develop amnesia.”
“Right. I’ll add to that, never drink anything one of us didn’t give you unless it’s in an unopened can.
Bottles are easier to open and reseal.” I gesture to the room at large.
“That’s especially true if you’re a rich fuck with too much time on your hands and no appreciation for consequences.
Rules apply for any date. They matter even more at these parties.
Troy once grabbed a bottle of cola off a communal table, thinking it was safe.
Adam had to drag him to a quiet bedroom until he could function again. ”
Ravi nods, looking thoughtful. I still get nervous vibes from him, but we’re all nervous at first. We’ll see how things go.
“You know, I’m not here to judge at all.
We all come to Brennan for work for different reasons, but if you’re uncomfortable, maybe you want to look into something else.
You seem a little quiet and serious for this lifestyle.
” I wink at him, hoping for a smile, but no luck.
“I just want to make sure you’re cool with this. Nobody’s pressuring you, right?”
I’m pretty sure Christian’s boyfriend got him into escorting. At the time it seemed a little unusual. Now it seems like something darker.
Ravi shakes his head. “No. Nobody’s forcing me. Not…” He takes another deep breath and lets it out slowly. A sudden smile spreads across his face. “No. I’m here because I want to be. It’s sort of exciting, it’s just…new. It’ll get easier, like you said. Right?”
“Right.”
Ravi’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but he’s swaying his hips in time to the music, pretending to grind on me and have a good time. He’s gripping my sides almost as if I’m some anchor, looking slightly determined. But he’s getting into it, little by little.