For the Night: Complete Box Set (2 page)

I handed my overnight case
and suit hanger to the steward on the luxury private jet that was taking me to
New York for the night, to meet Camilla Domville, heiress to the Domville chain
of six star hotels scattered across the globe. I was used to the finer things
in life, my clients were women of means, but Camilla appeared to be in a league
of her own and didn’t understand the meaning of the word “restraint.” She’d
sent a six bedroom jet to fly me from London to New York. Just me. And the crew
of course, who treated me like royalty. I settled back in one of the soft white
chairs, made from eel skin, and was automatically offered a bottle of Cristal.
I politely declined. I didn’t drink on the job, it impaired my ability to keep
Logan the escort separate from my own persona. I was more than comfortable
making small talk, but I never divulged any personal information to my clients.
Add in the fact that the sugar levels in alcohol would play havoc with my
physique, water was a far safer option all around. I nodded my agreement to
smoked salmon and caviar blinis as a canapé, along with some hot roasted nuts.

‘Sir has requested a goat’s cheese salad with pear
and walnuts with a balsamic glaze, followed by Pasta Genovese with grilled
chicken and a “spotted dick” for dessert
without
the custard.’ I
struggled to contain my laughter at the look of distaste on the steward’s face
as he stated my choice of pudding. A stodgy suet pudding full of raisins and
dried fruit, it was one of my favourites from childhood. Plus it was full of
carbohydrates and natural sugars, all helpful given the amount of calories I
was planning on burning off with Miss Domville this evening.

‘Excellent, thank you. With regards to my water,
I’d prefer still to sparkling, a slice of lime, not lemon, and hold the ice.’

‘Certainly, Sir. Your belongings have been taken
to your room. If you can please secure your seat belt we are ready to depart.
The flight is expected to be approximately seven hours, dinner will be served
at seven o’clock UK time and we expect to land at midnight, which will be seven
p.m. New York time, as requested.’

‘Perfect, thank you,’ I nodded. I checked my
watch, it was a little after five in the afternoon. I’d have plenty of time to
relax, eat, and maybe fit in some exercise before taking a nap and then
freshening up, so when I arrived I was ready for action. As the plane began to
taxi out onto the runway, I sat back in my chair and checked my schedule for
the months ahead with my clients. My finger automatically opened the file on
Summer Beresford, my next client. She was twenty-two, almost my youngest client
yet, with the exception of Camilla who was a year younger. Women with the sorts
of sums required for my services tended to be older, usually married to wealth,
or they were leaders in their field of expertise, having clawed their way to
the top and earned their money, or, as in Camilla’s case, were heiresses to
Daddy’s fortune. Summer stood out from the rest, for a number of reasons. She
was a natural beauty, not stunning like many of the women who paid me, but a
classic English rose. She had porcelain clear skin, pink cheeks, bright blue
eyes, full lips and full chestnut hair, that hung well below her shoulders.

I was attracted to all of my clients, unless my
cock twitched on sight of their photograph I wouldn’t have even considered
taking the booking. I’d be a pretty poor fucking escort if I couldn’t get it
up, so the photos were essential to ensure I never failed on my “no refunds
offered” clause. While I always selected potential candidates based on sexual
attraction, there was something about Summer that made my pulse spike that little
bit more. On top of that, she didn’t appear to have money. My best friend, Dan,
had hooked me up with his own personal investigator, Ian Smith. As soon as a
booking request with photograph came in, Ian would perform full background
checks on them. I wanted assurances that they had the means to pay and that if
they were seeing someone, or married, it wasn’t to a mobster who was likely to
put me in concrete boots if he found out what I’d been doing with his wife.

Summer was an unknown actress, who’d only had a
few walk on parts in television, but had just landed the lead role in a film
version of a popular erotic romance novel. She was currently single and living
with her parents in London, my own home town. I was intrigued to know what
scenario she’d want me to fulfil and had sent her my standard report to
complete, in order for me to put together a quote if I decided to take the
booking. Her request had been simple, for us to meet in a hotel room and for me
to treat her as if she were a virgin and make love to her and pretend to teach
her all there was to know about sex. That was it, the rest of the brief was
left up to me. My curiosity with her had been peaked. Usually women who booked
me wanted me to be dominant, controlling, aggressive and forceful, not soft and
gentle. I’d typically have refused the booking had it been anyone else, I
didn’t do tender fucks, but I couldn’t stop opening her file and looking at her
photograph, so with my obvious interest in her, I’d accepted. I shifted
uncomfortably in my seat, there was definitely no lack of attraction on my
part, I’d sprung a fucking erection at the thought of looking at her
photograph, before I’d even re-opened her file. I sighed and closed it and
opened the current one for Camilla, to re-read her report and familiarise
myself with tonight’s scenario.

Personal Attire

You will be dressed in a dark grey suit, black
brogues, black dress socks and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the neck. You will
wear no jewellery and no deodorant, but you will apply Black Orchid cologne by
Tom Ford. Clean shaven, no body hair but for the underarms, legs and arms.

I winced internally as the memory of that fresh
back, sack and crack came back to me. I preferred manscaping, but they never
got any less painful.

Scenario

Two hot strangers meet in a bar and you take
her to your room to fuck her brains out.

I nodded as I read and memorised the stipulations
for where the sex would take place, along with an appendix showing a floor plan
of the $30,000 per night penthouse suite. Camilla wanted it to feel as if I
were an affluent businessman who could afford to stay there and knew my way
around it. I read on.

You will be masterful, sexually aggressive, raw
and passionate and make me feel like you can’t get enough of me, that I’m the
sexiest women you’ve ever fucked.

I chuckled at the request that I attempt to
perform for all four locations she had detailed, in priority order, “If that
wasn’t too much?” she’d written.
O Camilla, you have no idea how many times
I’m capable of fucking your brains out in one evening, or how hard I fuck.
You’ll be begging me to stop and asking for a break even before we get to the
fourth request,
I thought with a smile
.

I lay face down on my bed,
kicking my heels up behind me as I chewed on my pen and stared at my text
books. Rhianna was blaring from my iPhone doc behind me, singing about rude
boys and I smirked at the thought of the boy somewhere over the Atlantic on his
way to fuck me. Boy was an understatement from the black and white photograph
that had been provided with booking form. Logan Steele was all man, at
twenty-eight, all
seriously
buffed to perfection and his reputation in
the sack was legendary. I was sick of the college boys I’d been sleeping with,
they were too interested in my money, not me, and rarely gave me the good
pounding I’d been dreaming of. I had to uphold somewhat of a conventional
appearance, given Daddy’s status, which meant no one-night stands, lengthy
dating with Daddy’s approval before I had sex, blah, blah bloody blah. I
chuckled, in fact Daddy still thought his precious little princess was a
virgin. All the more reason for going to Logan to fulfil my fantasy, discretion
was of paramount importance. The thought of meeting a random stranger, in one
of his hotels no less, and being fucked senseless was intoxicating. I’d been
dreaming of it since I lost my virginity, far too gently when I was fifteen.

‘Camilla,’ roared Daddy’s voice. I looked around
startled as he strode across my room and turned off my music.

‘Daddy!’ I protested.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ he demanded with his
hands on his hips as he towered over me as I sat on my bed.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know the Sheikh is my best client, well he
tried to book the Signature suite tonight and was told that it’s been reserved
for you.’

‘I told you I needed it, Daddy. It’s one of my
birthday treats remember? I’m having the girls over for a sleep over.’

‘You couldn’t do it in the damn house? We have
fifteen en-suite bedrooms,’ he sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. ‘It’s
as good as a hotel.’

‘But I promised them,’ I whined, with a
well-practiced pout and watery eyes. I needed to flatter his ego too. ‘Please
don’t make me cancel, they’re all so excited to see how Mr. Domville made his
billions with the flagship hotel, and to stay in the Signature suite … it’s
legendary
.’

‘Camilla, he’s the VIP of VIP’s.’

‘More important than your own daughter, than her
birthday treat?’ I let a few tears trickle down my face and he exhaled heavily,
sat on the bed next to me and smoothed my hair.

‘O don’t cry, princess. Of course no one’s more
important than you, I’ll put him in the smaller presidential suite. I’m sure
he’ll understand when I explain.’

‘O Daddy, thank you,’ I smiled and flung my arms
around his neck, rejoicing on the inside.

‘Who’s coming? Can I trust them in there? It’s not
just my most expensively furnished and decorated room, it’s my most treasured
possession having her party.’

‘Daddy,’ I let him go and rolled my eyes as I
smiled. I loved that he adored me so much. ‘You can trust me to make sure
everything is looked after.’

‘No boys,’ he warned with a pointed finger.

‘No boys,’ I nodded. From his professional black
and white head shot, in no universe could Logan Steele be mistaken as a boy.

‘And why has Jensen advised me that he’s flying
the large jet from London?’

‘A friend from there couldn’t get a flight out,’ I
shrugged, knowing that Jensen would have kept his mouth shut. I made sure that
I seduced all of Daddy’s key employees, securing recordings of the events, as a
form of insurance policy for any indiscretions that they may witness. Some had
been a pleasure, some not so much. Alderton, his accountant, a bald sweaty man
in his early fifties had taken much effort to even contemplate, let alone carry
out. He was key however in ensuring that he covered my tracks when it came to
spending some of Daddy’s money without his knowledge, like the fee I was paying
Logan for tonight. I shuddered as the memory of Alderton’s podgy belly
smothered my toned cheerleader’s one as he’d panted, dripping sweat from his
brow and turned so red I was worried he was going to have a heart attack and
I’d die pinned underneath his fat frame. Anyone would think he’d performed the
New York marathon the way he gasped with each thrust, if it lasted sixty
seconds he was lucky. Very lucky, me too in a way, I’d never been so happy to
have sex with someone with a lack of stamina. I wasn’t even convinced he’d
penetrated me his dick was that small.
Thank God for “small” mercies
, I
thought with an internal giggle.

‘You’ll bankrupt me one day, Camilla. Order
whatever you want from room service, the bill’s on me, ok?’

‘Thank you Daddy, you’re the best,’ I beamed.

‘Have a wonderful night and I’ll meet you and your
friends for lunch in the Domville private dining room.’

‘They’ll all be gone by then,’ I lied. ‘How about
we just have lunch on our own, without Beatrice.’

‘When will you start calling her mother?’ he
replied with another sigh as he pushed his hand through his distinguished black
hair, streaked with silver.

‘She’s
not
my mother, she’s stepmother
number five and I
hate
her,’ I bit back angrily. I didn’t even remember
my own mother, she’d died in childbirth. Apparently Daddy had been so
distraught that was why he’d refused to have more children, and why I was so
precious to him. Beatrice joked that I should be called “Precious” he was that
blinded by me. I’d simply stuck my tongue out at her while he wasn’t looking.
If it came to a choice between me and one of his wives, I’d always win, just
like I always had.

‘You’ve not given her a chance.’

‘Well she’s not exactly given me one, either.
Please don’t put me in a mood Daddy, I have to get ready for my special night.’

‘Are you getting ready here or the hotel?’

‘I have the hairdresser and beauty therapist
coming to the suite in a few hours, I may make my way over now.’

‘Do you have a pretty party dress, or would you
like to get a new one?’

‘I’d love a new one,’ I clapped.

‘Charge it to my card, shoes and bag as well.
Can’t have my princess looking anything other than stunning on her party
night.’

‘Daddy, you’re the best,’ I squealed as I launched
myself at him and peppered his cheek in kisses, making him laugh.

I arrived in the six bedroom suite with an
entourage of staff behind me. I was having a facial and massage, spray tan,
then a mani-pedi with sparkling silver nails to go with my new silver glitter
ankle strapped heels. I always kept my waxing up to date, one never knew when a
blackmail fuck would arise with one of the staff. Then I’d booked a haircut and
colour, style and blow dry, to turn my straight blonde locks into smooth
shining sexy waves. I’d purchased an electric blue rubber mini dress, with a
silver zip at the rear and a green lace matching underwear set, to enhance my
green eyes. It was coming up to eight o’clock by the time I was done, and I
could feel myself dampening at the thought that Logan was waiting for me down
in the bar and that I’d have his cock buried inside me soon. He’d better be as
good as I’d heard and he’d promised, or I’d sue the hell out of him for breach
of contract.