Chapter Three
I lay on my back, hands behind my head, staring up at the bedroom ceiling. There was a water mark there. It had been there ever since I moved in. If you looked at it for long enough, it was kind of the shape of a dog. A dog with one leg longer than the rest, but a dog nonetheless.
I had no auditions lined up and my shift at the restaurant wasn’t until the evening.
Therefore, I had absolutely nothing urgent to stop my brain from dwelling on the events of the previous night.
I ignored the insistent throb in my crotch while my mind replayed the intense orgasm.
My face burned at the memory: I’d really played the part of the willing whore to perfection.
I refused to jack off at the thought, so my unruly cock could just go to hell.
Groaning, I rolled over and buried my head in the pillow, the action immediately bringing to mind the smell of cologne on the one last night.
My bedroom door flew open, hitting the wall with a loud crack. I didn’t need to lift my head to know who it was. “Georgia, remember that conversation we had about knocking?”
My roommate stalked over to the bed and stared down at me. “Not really. I tend to switch off when you start talking about something boring.” She grabbed the edge of the duvet and proceeded to climb under it.
“For fuck’s sake, Georgia. I’m naked here!” I decided not to mention the fact that I was also sporting the best part of an erection.
Unperturbed, she continued to maneuver herself under it. She turned her head to the side to give me a prolonged look of scorn. “I am not remotely interested in your naked body, Dean. Get over yourself.”
“I’m going to put a lock on this door.”
She smiled. “Yeah, yeah! So you keep saying. I’ll believe it when I see it.
Anyway, it’s not like you’re up to anything interesting.
I came to see why you’re just lying around in bed.
” She raised a slim arm to stare at the watch on her wrist. “It’s after ten.
” She relaxed back against the pillow and made herself comfortable.
“I could have been jerking off…or had a guy in here.”
She arched one eyebrow. “Jerking off maybe. A guy. No way. I’d know if you were seeing anyone. You had a…job last night, right?”
There were only two people in my life who knew about the escorting. One was Georgia, the other my brother. I closed my eyes, waiting for the next predictable question, hoping that for once she might skip it. She didn’t.
“How was it? Was he hot? Was he the man of your dreams?”
I cracked open one eyelid. “I keep telling you it’s real life, not a scene from Pretty Woman.”
Georgia pulled a face and looked like she was about to launch into an argument.
Thankfully, I was saved from having to answer any more questions or face a debate on real life versus portrayals in a film when my phone rang.
I reached across to the nightstand and picked it up, frowning as Georgia leaned across me to read the caller display.
“Oh, it’s your pimp. I’ll leave you to it and go and make a late breakfast.” She levered herself out of the bed and successfully dodged the pillow I threw at her rapidly retreating back. I sighed before answering the phone.
“Hi, Tom.”
“Dean. How was last night?”
Great! The very thing I didn’t want to think about, never mind talk about. “It went okay.”
“Well, you must have done something right.”
I took a moment to digest his words, trying to work out what he was getting at. “What do you mean?”
“He called this morning. He wants to make it a regular thing. Every Tuesday.”
“Well, that’s…good for you, right? A regular client.”
“Good for me!” I held the phone further from my ear as Tom’s already booming voice increased in volume. “And good for you.”
“For me?”
Tom laughed. “Sorry. I’ll rewind. He wants to make it a regular thing with you.”
My silence obviously spoke volumes. I could almost hear the cogs ticking around in Tom’s head. “Was everything really okay last night? Did he give you the right amount of money? Did he do something he shouldn’t have?”
Made me come like a bloody steam train even though I have no idea who he was or anything about him. “No. Nothing like that. The money was fine. Everything was fine. I just don’t know if…you know…again. But, if not, you can send someone else.”
“He was very clear that it needed to be you. It will be the same deal. Same money as well. Double money as long as you continue to keep to the conditions he set.”
I leaned my head back against the headboard, my heart racing.
The guy hadn’t seemed to be able to get rid of me fast enough.
Now he was already after a repeat performance.
What the hell was that about? Could I go there again?
The thought sent a strange mixture of arousal and trepidation through my body.
“I don’t know, Tom. I’m going to have to think about it and let you know. ”
Tom’s sigh didn’t come as a surprise. “I know you don’t normally do repeat clients, but I thought you might be glad of the opportunity for some consistent money. You won’t have to work as many shifts at the restaurant. It’ll give you more time for auditions.”
“I know! It’s just…” There was no way I could explain without giving away the fact a mystery man had managed to blow my mind. “I’ll call you, either later today…or tomorrow. Let you know what I’ve decided.”
Tom grudgingly agreed, and I said my goodbyes, my thoughts even more confused than they’d been before the call. I dropped my head back against the pillow with an audible groan.
“Dean!”
The summons had come from the kitchen. I quickly finished fastening the bow tie of my standard waiter uniform before going to find out why Georgia felt the need to holler at me in such an urgent fashion.
One step into the kitchen, I stopped. “Shit!” There was water and suds all over the floor.
A distressed-looking Georgia was at the center of it, ankle-deep in the water, desperately trying her best to mop it up.
Once she registered my presence, she shot me an annoyed look. “I think the washing machine’s dead.”
I stood and surveyed the damage. “I think you might be right.”
Georgia threw the mop away in frustration. “What are we going to do? We need a washing machine.”
I ran a hand through my hair, equally stressed at the sight. “Get a new one I guess. Or pay to get this one fixed. Whichever option is cheaper.”
A hopeful look was aimed my way. “You’ve got the money for that?”
“No.” I let the inevitability settle over me like a heavy blanket of snow. “But I can get it.”
Georgia paddled through the water toward me. “Yeah? How?”
I took a step back as the water seeped slowly nearer and came dangerously close to touching my work shoes.
I didn’t want to add the cost of a pair of new shoes onto the rapidly growing list of things I needed to buy.
“The…client from last night. He wants to make it a regular thing. I wasn’t sure.
But, it’s not a problem. I can ring Tom, and then next Tuesday, we’ll have money for a new washing machine. ” I managed a weak smile.
Georgia’s gaze honed in on it like a heat-seeking missile.
“What’s wrong? What aren’t you saying? What happened last night?
Why would you turn down a chance for some regular money?
” At the last question, I raised a disbelieving eyebrow.
She tilted her head to one side. “Okay, well. Apart from the whole sex for money thing.” She waved a hand, as if to dismiss that as being no big deal.
“What happened, Dean?” Checking my watch, I sighed, and then relayed the whole story to her as she listened intently.
“So, this guy could have been anyone?”
I nodded.
“How do you know he isn’t like really, really old?”
I flinched. “I don’t.”
She screwed her face up. “He could be ninety-two…or older. There must be some reason he wanted to do it in the dark.”
“Yeah, thanks, Georgia. You’re not saying anything that hasn’t already occurred to me.”
She thought for a moment, before wiggling her hands in my direction. “Did he feel old when he touched you?”
“Not really.” I was already beginning to regret having told her anything.
“What about when he…” She moved her hips in a lewd interpretation of fucking. “Couldn’t you tell then?”
“No.” I thought back, wondering if I’d missed any obvious clues, but all I could recall was how bloody good it had felt. “It wasn’t what I was really thinking about.”
She must have read something in my face. “Don’t go back, Dean, if you don’t want to. We’ll get the money from somewhere else. I can talk to my mum. She might be able to lend it to me.”
We both knew that was an absolute pipe dream. Georgia’s mum was three quarters of the way to being an alcoholic. Any money she had went on booze. Georgia usually lent her money rather than the other way around.
Georgia leaned in, wrapping her arms tightly around my waist. “You’ve got an audition tomorrow. You’ll get the part.”
I smiled, appreciating her optimism and returned the hug.
“Even if I do, it doesn’t pay that much.
It’s not a problem, honest. I’ll call Tom tonight and tell him to count me in for another session with Mr. Mystery.
Give him a chance to turn the light on and reveal himself as Richard Gere.
You’ll probably have to prepare yourself for the fact that I won’t come back.
He’ll no doubt whisk me off to his secret penthouse and spend his days buying me expensive gifts. ”
Her laugh was muffled due to her face being buried in my shirt. She pushed me away. “Go to work, you idiot. I need to try and find the kitchen floor under all this water.”
The restaurant was heaving. At least being run off my feet kept my brain from cycling round in endless spirals with no resolution.
I’d only had one obnoxious customer, which was substantially down on the usual average I encountered in an evening’s work.
I’d done better than Kate, who was currently in the break room in absolute floods of tears bemoaning the asshole who’d demanded all his food be sent back to the kitchen—twice.
I put an arm round her in an effort to console her.
“Don’t let the dick get to you. He was just after a free meal. ”
She wiped ineffectually at her face with a tissue, her mascara already smeared halfway down her face. “I know. But the chef thought it was my fault. He shouted at me. Told me it was my job to explain the menu properly to the customers.”
“Fuck the chef!”
She laughed, which caused her to hiccup and then cry all the harder. “You wish.”
I winked. “Maybe. He’d have to keep his mouth shut though. He spoils that good-looking facade as soon as he starts spouting rubbish.”
Kate blew her nose loudly. “I need to go and clear my tables.” She made a move to stand.
I shoved her gently back down. “I’ll do it. You go home and check on your daughter. I’ve got my own to clear anyway. It won’t take me too much longer to do both sets.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. She jumped up and kissed my cheek. “You’re a real sweetie, Dean. I have no idea why the hell you’re single. When’s your handsome prince going to arrive and sweep you off your feet?”
I picked up a cloth, ignoring the nagging feeling of fatigue and managed a smile. “Any day now, I’m sure. Think he’s gotten lost somewhere on the way.”
It was gone two before I managed to leave the restaurant.
Taking on clean-up of Kate’s tables hadn’t been the best idea I’d ever had, given I had an audition the next morning which meant I had to be up by seven.
Some great actor I was going to be on four hours’ sleep.
Maybe, if I was lucky, the role would require someone to look extremely tired. Then I’d be the perfect candidate.