Chapter Three
~Xander~
“ F uck, you are definitely full of surprises, aren’t you?” I throw my head back, barking out a laugh as I admire the moon above us.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you.” She scoots forward in her chair. “It’s just that Serena said that her mother hired you to, well, you know, keep my uncle’s secretary busy tonight.”
“You mean, Natasha?” I clarify.
She nods, but for once stays blessedly silent. I stare at her for several long moments, knowing she’s uncomfortable when she starts to squirm in her seat. Putting her out of her misery, I continue. “The correct term is escort. I’m not a prostitute.”
“But you take money to be with people.” She counters, my temper starting to flare just enough for my pulse quicken.
When I had noticed her earlier laughing with her friends, the way her face lit up sparked something inside of me I hadn’t felt in ages. Natasha grew bored when Nicholas ignored her, so had called an Uber and left, giving me the perfect opportunity to follow this blonde mystery to the beach. Now I was beginning to wonder if I had made a mistake.
“I work for an agency that arranges dates for an event. Like the one here tonight. Or perhaps a dinner, or to the theater or a ballet. It’s easier for people to have someone on their arm instead of going alone.”
“And you have sex with them?” She persists.
“No.” I blow out a sigh, clenching my hands together between my knees so I don’t wrap them around her neck, then shrug. “Well, sometimes.”
“So, you are a prostitute!” She declares in victory.
I close my eyes, pray for patience, then open them, her full lips stretched into a smile so breathtaking my heart skips a beat. I draw in a lung full of air, and am about to speak when she hops out of her chair and starts pacing back and forth.
“I have an idea but I don’t know if you’re going to like it, but I may never get a chance like this again, so if I don’t ask, I’ll always regret it, and then I will always wonder what could have happened if I had just asked, so I’m just going to ask.” She rattles on, her words spewing out faster than I can digest, but when I do, I almost groan out loud at what I think she’s going to ask me.
“No, I will not take your virginity.” I announce before she has a chance to even ask.
“What?” She skids to a halt, sand springing up around her feet onto my Gucci loafers, her eyes popping wide as she leers down at me. “I am not a virgin.”
“Really?” I laugh out loud. “I’m quite surprised, frankly.”
“I’ve had sex.” She stomps her foot down, crossing her arms over her tits, which I just happen to notice are peaked. “Almost twice.”
“Almost twice?” I chuff. “You’ve either had someone’s cock in you or you haven’t. If you aren’t sure, I’d hedge on the fact it’s a no.”
“Of course, I’m sure.” She flops back into her chair again, heaving a loud sigh. “It was just fast. So, so fast.” She shares, slapping a hand over her face. “It was barely in and then he came, and it was over and out.”
“Twice.” I hold two fingers up, trying not to laugh.
“Don’t mock me.” She huffs. “You have no idea what it’s like growing up in a town with only twenty boys in your entire class. Most of them feeling like your brother because you’ve known them your entire life.”
“How old are you?” I wonder out loud, hoping for my sake she’s not just out of fucking high school.
“I’m twenty-three.” She sighs, like she’s ancient.
I exhale as well, in relief, knowing I still had some morals in not wanting to bed or be attracted to an eighteen-year-old. “And you didn’t meet anyone in college?”
“That was in college!” She reveals, flinging a hand in the air. “And that’s why I want to hire you.”
“You want to what?” I repeat, not sure I heard her correctly. She stands again, but this time it’s to move over to my chair, her small frame sitting on the wide arm, her body facing mine.
“I want to hire you.” She licks her lips, her fingers rubbing together in her lap as she rushes on. “I want you to teach me how to do things a girl my age should know how to do by now.”
“I’m too old for you.” My voice firm.
“But experience is what I need, so you being older is perfect.” She places a hand on my head and tilts my face into the light. “How old can you be anyway? You don’t look older than thirty. And you’re very attractive. You’re the perfect person to teach me.”
“No.” I rise out of my chair, strolling several feet away from her, my heart racing at her proposal. Is she crazy? I’m not a sex instructor. I fuck. For money. And I’m good at it. I don’t have to show or teach anyone what to do. I just do it. I spin to look at her. She’s beautiful. Long blonde hair, a small petite frame, but with curves firm and tight due to her age. And her lips, fuck me if they aren’t the first natural pair of puffy lips I’ve seen in years. They look soft as pillows instead of hard from endless shots of filler. Yes, if she had been any other socialite in the city, I would have already been on my way to her bedroom.
“Why?” She stands and takes a few steps closer to me. “Am I not attractive enough to be your client?”
“You might be too attractive.” I mumble under my breath, and then say louder, “you’re beautiful. This just isn’t what I do.”
She gets bolder and moves until she’s right in front of me. “Do you know how to kiss someone?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know what turns you on, what you like to do and what you like to have done to you?”
“Summer, I would destroy you.” I invade her space now, wrapping a hand around her waist to haul her to my body, making sure she can feel my cock against her. I grab one of her hands to press it against my length, a gasp coming from her as I do. “Do you feel that? Do you know what I could do to you with this? How good it would feel for me to stick this into every hole in your body? Because that’s what I want to do right now.” I wrench her even closer, bring my lips just a breath away from hers. “Is that what you want?”
She nods her head, lifting her eyes to peek up at me, her lips brushing against mine when she answers. “Yes.”
“Fuck!” I release her with a soft push, not expecting that reaction. “Why? Why not wait for the right guy to come along? Someone you love that will show you all these things. The right way. Not the dirty way you’d learn with me.”
“I’m twenty-three years old, Xander.” She lifts her shoulders, dropping them as she sighs. “A quarter of my life is over. I’m tired of waiting for the right guy. I want to take things into my own hands. And you can show me these things. Teach me. I don’t want to find the right guy and then lose him because I don’t even know how to give him a blow job.”
“The right guy will show and tell you exactly what he needs.”
“Right now, you’re that guy. You can show me and tell me exactly what to do. I don’t want to be this innocent little girl anymore.”
I shake my head, not believing when I hear the words coming out of my own mouth. “You can’t afford me.”
Her head snaps up, hope blooming across her face. “I’ve got a ten-million-dollar trust fund that says I can.”
Fuck. I’m out of options. I glare at her, unable to deny the idea is actually appealing to me. She’s gorgeous. And I can’t lie, her innocence is part of her appeal. To be able to know my cock would be the first she’s ever sucked, or even better, to know my tongue would be the first one to taste her. My cock stirs at the thought, and I know I’ve already made up my mind, even if I haven’t said it out loud yet.
“Five lessons. Two hours each. Two thousand a lesson.”
Her mouth drops open, which does nothing to help my cock relax, instead thickening further. She jumps up and down, squeals in delight, then claps her hands before launching herself against my chest. “Thank you! Thank you!”
I pry her off of me before I decide to give her the first lesson right here on the beach. “I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not your friend. This is a job. I’ll show you what you want, and then we’re done. Okay?”
“Okay.” She bobs her head.
“And Summer, I won’t fuck you. That privilege should go to the right guy, not someone you pay.”
“Oh.” She frowns as if disappointed, but nods her understanding. “Okay.”
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and open a new contact. “Give me your number.”
“Uh, sure.” She tells me the number and I enter it.
“What’s your last name?” I shift my eyes to her.
“Knight. Summer Knight.”
I stare back at her, a thousand thoughts running through my mind about her name, the irony of our entire situation in relation to it, but decide to keep them to myself. “I’ll text you with a date and an address. You’re going to have to come to the city. I don’t have a place in the Hamptons.”
“Oh, sure. That’s fine.” She continues to nod. “I can stay at my aunt and uncle’s apartment.”
“You pay the ten grand up front, at the beginning of the first lesson.” God, why did I feel like such an ass dictating these terms to her? It’s never bothered me before.
“Do you need it in cash, or can I Venmo you?” She doesn’t seem to be bothered in the least with the details, so I guess that should make me feel a little better.
“It has to be cash. I can’t exactly report this to the IRS.”
“Oh yeah, of course.” She laughs nervously. “That makes sense.”
“Okay.” I look over her shoulder at the water wondering if I’m making the biggest fucking mistake of my life, and then give her a final nod. “I’ll text you. I’m going to take off.”
“Yeah, okay.” She swings her foot back and forth, making a wide arch in the sand. “I’ll talk to you later then.”
I nod, then turn to head back to the house. After only a couple steps, I twist my head. “My mother named me Alexander. Xander is the name I use for my work at Temptations. And my mother, she’s amazing.”