Chapter 11
“Big Daddy, you’re here.” The small girl from southeast Asia stretched her tiny frame and ran her fingers through his slicked-back hair.
“Yeah, baby, I am.” He ran a comb through his hair and glanced in the mirror just inside the door to Miss Nami’s house.
“Have you been busy tonight?” He looked around the foyer and adjoining large rooms at the businessmen in thousand-dollar suits, Italian shoes, and started counting the night’s profit.
“Me, not so much. Some of the others, like Jasmine, is working on her third date of the night.” Her pout turned into a seductive smile. “That means I’m available for you.”
He glared down at the girl who was only around fourteen, the median age he hired. He discovered long ago that men were willing to pay more money the younger the girl. Virgins demanded a premium price, but he could only sell a hymen once. Damn it all to hell.
The girl, wearing nothing but a see-through bustier and a thong, looked up at him with pleading eyes.
He smacked her bare ass. “Go find somebody else’s dick to suck, or better yet, to fuck.” Fucking paid more money. The girl trotted off in three-inch platforms with stiletto heels, wearing his handprint like a badge of honor.
He caught the familiar scent and knew she was coming. Once she’d started making insane money, even by American standards, Miss Nami only wore Caron Poivre at the outrageous price of one thousand dollars per ounce. He had his own vices.
She followed with an unopened bottle of twenty-three-year-old Kentucky bourbon and a frozen snifter glass on a silver tray to his seat in the far corner. She opened the new bottle and poured out a small amount into the crystal glass.
“So, anyone of interest tonight?” Big Daddy took a sip, allowing the expensive whiskey to roll over his tongue before finally swallowing.
Ms. Nami went through the list of high-paying attendees at tonight’s party.
She’d researched each man before allowing him into the house.
She had also decided, hours before the men showed up, which room they would occupy.
Several had multiple hidden cameras with the highest quality video available.
Blackmail was Big Daddy’s favorite income stream.
It also kept the city and base police away.
She rubbed his shoulders. “You’re very tight tonight.” She swung around and straddled his lap facing him. “Why don’t you let me take care of your stress?”
No one could make him come as hard and as fast as she could. In sync, they both scanned the busy living rooms. His bouncers blended with the background but kept an eye on each man and woman. Big Daddy signaled to the former SEALs as he followed Ms. Nami up the two flights of stairs to her suite.
This was exactly what he needed. He took off his clothes and neatly laid them on the overstuffed chair. He lay naked, face down on the bed as the woman with magical fingers warmed the massage oil.
Everyone thought their relationship was sexual. Big Daddy knew better than to fuck the hired help.