Tis’ the Season

Chapter 1

Chapter one

How Did I Get Here?

NOELLE

Have you ever asked yourself how the hell did I end up here? I just did. It all started with a Jamaican man on Tinder. His name on Tinder was James. That’s important for this story.

We met up at Starbucks. He was a tall, beautiful Black man, and he called me his empress.

Let me just say, if another man calls me empress, I would roll my eyes and walk away.

But a Jamaican man calls me empress? I believe it.

I am royal. I am an empress. We speak for an hour, and after some talking and laughing, we end up at his apartment.

When I enter his apartment, it’s neat and well-decorated.

You would think my Spidey senses would tingle, but nope.

My pussy tightens when I feel the length of him press into my back.

I just know his dick is big. I sigh with satisfaction.

“Mi tek two ‘ulk tablet. Your pum pum hafi bawl tonight,” James whispers as he sucks the side of my ear.

In minutes, my clothing is off, his tongue is doing magic on my thighs, and everything feels right. Just two more inches and he would be closer to my clit. Then I would be in heaven.

“Donavan!” Someone shouts through the house. James pauses and lifts his head.

I’m thinking Donavan must be his brother. He did say he lived with his sister and brother earlier.

“Donavan, I brought things for us to cook.”

James freezes. He springs off me. My legs are still spread wide, the soles of my feet pointed to the popcorn ceiling, no underwear, my kitty all out in the open.

“Get dressed,” James says. My underwear hits my face as he dashes into the shower.

“What does he mean, ‘get dressed’?” I mutter. I yank the underwear on. I don’t know what the hell is happening.

He comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“You need to get dressed now. She cyaa see yuh,” he whisper-shouts.

“You told me you were single,” I reply. I pull my dress on and grab my bag.

“Donavan.” The door opens and I dash behind it.

I couldn’t hear what she was saying because my heartbeat was in my ear. I have so many questions, but James, aka Donavan, is 6’5, and he looks like he is afraid. So who am I not to be?

Eventually she moves away, and he pulls the door slightly and hisses, “Hide.”

Hide? Where in this two-by-four room should I hide?

From across the room, I can see the closet, and it’s packed.

I can’t hide there. Maybe I can hide in the shower.

I hustle over to the shower, only to realize the shower curtains are sheer.

Okay…I got the window. Maybe I can use the fire escape?

What fire escape? The rusted iron structure is in need of repair.

If I step onto that, I will be seeing the pearly gates.

I chuckle softly. I always end up in a dumbass situation like this.

My phone vibrates in my bag. I grab it quickly, answering it.

“Hello?” I whisper, tiptoeing across the room to press the door shut.

“Noelle, why are you whispering?” Lia is the head coordinator of Prestige Partners.

“Long story. What do you need?” I whisper again. Just then, the door rattles. I hang up and dive under the bed. I’m met with some empty bottles of water, dust bunnies, and a pair of shoes that has seen better days.

“Donavan, I want to…” I can’t hear the rest because he switches on the radio. I am sweating, and the phone in my hand is vibrating.

I was thinking, Noelle, move. Just as I was about to, the bed sinks over me, right above my nose.

Then I hear a moan. “Treat meh ight, Donavan.”

“Sandra…meh bust the pussy up.”

Wait a minute. Are they going to…?

The mattress spring squeaks as it presses against my nose, and for the next thirty minutes, I hear Sandra beg Donavan to “beat me pussy out.”

Donavan’s reply was, “Dagger.”

Each time he said “dagger,” the mattress did a double bounce on my nose.

“Lawd Jesus, mi a come…Lawd.”

I roll my eyes because I doubt the dagger was that good. Their breathing begins to even out. I need to get out of here before he starts round two. After all, he did take the Hulk gas station pill.

“I love you, Donavan.” I hear Sandra whisper. She sounds so sincere and sweet.

I hear a smacking of the lips, then I hear, “Mi only wah you, Sandra. Nobody else. You is de ‘oman for mi.”

Sandra coos at his words.

“Mi never look pon dem likkle hoe dem. You mi a want, not dem ‘oe.” For a second, it felt like he was dropping the words for me. I am not a hoe.

The bed slowly dips again over my nose, and I know I couldn’t do Jamaican Pornhub part two.

“I only want you, Sandra.”

I don’t know what happened. Between my brain hating that he lied to me and her and the bed pressing against my cheek, I had enough. Uber. I need an Uber now. I extend my hand to the side, and with a couple of swipes, I have an Uber. It was three minutes away.

I could do three minutes. The bed begins to move again, and then my phone vibrates.

I roll out from under the bed and stand up.

As expected, Sandra’s eyes meet mine, and she screams, dragging the sheet to cover herself.

Donavan lies in the bed, naked and in shock.

My eyes move to his cock. I was right; it was huge. Such a waste.

“Wah the bloodclaat…” As she begins to spew her curse words, I tell myself it’s time to leave.

Until Donavan says, “Thief. Mi a call de police.” He points his shaking finger at me.

Excuse me? I look around the bedroom, then back at him. Me, a thief?

I turned to Sandra. “I met him on Tinder. Didn’t know he had a girl. He is cheating on you.”

The room goes silent, and I see fire raging in Sandra’s eyes and fear in James’, aka Donavan’s, eyes.

I open the door and walk out of the bedroom, closing the door behind me just in time as something smashes against it. I fix the strap of my yellow dress and smooth my hair. I know it has dust bunnies in it. My objective is to leave this apartment complex.

I exit the apartment and begin to jog down the stairs. I have on heels and had no intention of falling.

“Heh. Where is she?” Sandra’s voice echoes in the stairwell above me. I didn’t stop to look. I didn’t feel the need to see how Sandra looked. A gentleman holds the door open for me, and I exit the building.

A grey Prius idles on the curb. The driver leans out. “Noelle?”

“Yup.” I hurry inside the cab. As the car pulls away, I peep just in time to see Sandra, who’s a thick lady, in a sheet wrapped around her and Donavan with a towel wrapped around his waist.

I slump down in the car. First task: block Donavan.

My phone rings again, and it’s Lia.

“Hey.”

“Oh, you are out of whatever you were doing?” Lia says. I can hear the hints of her Russian accent.

“Yup. What do you need?”

I work with Prestige Partners as a coordinator, so it’s weird that Lia is calling me this late at night. Prestige Partners is a legal companion service.

“Anushka is in South Africa with a prince. She will be back in two days.”

I smirk. “I hope she has a great time.”

“All of our girls are out, and I need your help.” Lia pauses.

My help? “Help?”

“I know you don’t do escort service. This is just a little note-taking for Anushka. This client is a big deal.”

I roll my eyes. “Lia, all your clients are big deals.”

“Yes, but he was recommended by another client.”

I shake my head. “Sorry, Lia. I am not into it.”

“Just attend the meeting. Hear what he has to say and take some notes. I just need you to fill in for the hour, and I will send Anushka after for his service.”

I remain silent. I mean, I am not even dressed for this. I don’t have a thin showgirl body like the other escorts. Don’t get me wrong, I got a curvy figure and a small FUPA. But if he wants a girl from PP, he has a type, and I am not it.

“I will pay you $20,000 just for the dinner.”

My eyebrows shoot up. I could do a lot with twenty grand. I am a woman in need of $20,000 grand, with student loans and a baby brother in college.

“Fine. When and where?”

Lia squeals. “At the Hotel Hikari Bar, 10 p.m. You’re meeting Roman Voss, CEO of Voss Heritage Fund.”

I roll my eyes. “So he is a finance bro. That is English for twat.”

“Please, Noelle.”

My shoulders drop in defeat. “Send me his file. So what time tomorrow?”

Lia laughs. “No, it’s tonight; in an hour.”

“Lia, it’s imp—”

“I will add $10,000 extra. Change, look cute, and be there. I am sending you his picture.”

Damn. I guess I’m going to be an escort for the night.

ROMAN

“She’s late.” I mutter into the phone. I pick up the glass of whiskey and drains it. The clock over the hotel bar’s door says 10:05 p.m. She should have been here at ten.

I hear the rich chuckle of my friend Cole. “You booked a girl last minute two weeks before Christmas. Be happy she is coming.”

A man and a woman walk hand in hand into the Hotel Hikari with gift bags and smile. I groan.

“It’s not going to be that bad, Roman. Come on.” I can hear the laugh in Cole’s voice.

I rub my fingers on my forehead. “How did I get here?”

“Well, if you must know, your asshole baby brother Liam sent you a save the date. Surprise, he is getting married to your ex. He has always been a cunt, by the way.”

I rub my head some more.

“It was my advice to hire a girl. You can’t go into this wedding looking like a loser.

” The way Cole said “loser” made my heart hurt.

I was a loser. The girl I thought I would marry is marrying my brother on Christmas Day.

I fucking hate Christmas. It never goes well for me.

That’s why I normally spend it alone at my house.

“Listen, Lia says that Anushka is a gorgeous Russian girl. You have this.”

Just then, I hear a clatter of champagne glasses crashing into the floor. I look around only to see a woman in a dark green dress helping the waiter up, and she is apologizing.