For the Night: Complete Box Set (25 page)

Nine months had passed
since the filthy night with Yasmin Taylor. Thankfully my clients in between had
requested more conservative fantasies, dressing up as a cowboy, sex in an opera
box, on top of a brand new Lamborghini in a city car park in daylight. Those
sort of jobs I could carry out without reservation. Those jobs I
was
born
to perform. My next client is Ava Renshaw. Another regular, she’s the bored
housewife of a successful international banker, who spends much of his time
abroad, leaving her home alone and frustrated. While she loved the sessions we
had, she kept telling me that she was craving more and that her fantasy was to
be filled by two guys at the same time, but she was too self-conscious to go to
a sex club like 710. I’d had to cancel our last appointment due to a broken
ankle, and this had been the earliest we could agree on another booking. I
contacted one of my friends in the business, Trey Douglas, my go to guy for
clients with an MMF fantasy. We’re about to show Ava why two sets of hands, as
well as other appendages, are better than one.

Logan

My name is Logan Steele.
I’m devilishly handsome, seriously ripped, well hung, charismatic and highly
sexed. Women just can’t resist me. So when I lost my job in the construction industry
and was struggling for cash, I decided to put my assets to good use.

By day I’m a private
personal fitness trainer. By night I’m a high class escort.

I don’t advertise my
sexual services anymore, I have a long client list that come to me through word
of mouth. I’m that good that I’m booked months in advance. Scores of women pay
me extortionately high fees to fulfil their fantasies. And for the most part I
do. I have a strict set of rules that I abide by, which are provided in the
full contract that you’ll receive along with the booking form, if accepted.
I’ve bullet pointed an abridged version below, just so you’re clear before you
send me an email request:

Rules my clients must
comply with are:

I must see a picture in
advance.

I can decline the booking
request without explanation.

I can only be booked for
the night.

All sexual acts must be
consensual.

I will provide you with a
report to complete. Then I will choose the setting for our meeting     based on
your scenario.

I am flown first class or
by private jet if I am required to work abroad.

In the event of the above,
I will provide my dietary requirements in advance.

I will perform a full
background check.

I base my variable charge
on the scenario being requested.

“No” rules that I
stipulate are:

No bareback.

No minors.

No physical violence.

Nothing illegal.

No form of emotional
attachment during or after the event. I am merely performing a sexual or
companion service.

No contact after the
event, unless it is for a new booking.

And my absolute number
one rule, without exception is:

Full payment up front,
which is non-refundable. There is no requirement for a refund clause, I never
fail to perform.

So, now you are aware of
my rules for the night and are about to contact me, all that remains to be
asked is “Who do you want me to be?”

I took a deep breath as I
checked my appearance in the mirror again and straightened my dark grey tie,
before shrugging on my light grey suit jacket. It was nearly time to leave for
my next appointment with one of my regulars, Ava Renshaw. I actually had a soft
spot for Ava. She wasn’t like some of my other clients, fake, self-centred and
spoilt. She was a damned attractive brunette, in her mid-forties, but she still
had a killer figure. She was married to money. David Renshaw was a very
successful international banker, but it seemed he was more turned on by his
money than his wife. Their sex life was non-existent, and while Ava didn’t want
to cheat, she was starved of attention and affection, often left at home while
he travelled overseas. She saw hiring me as less of a sin than getting
emotionally involved with another man. I was just providing her with sex where
she was lacking, nothing more nothing less.

It was clear that I didn’t understand men as well
as I should, being one myself. When you had a woman as attractive as that at
home, who was willing and eager and didn’t lack for skills in bed, why wouldn’t
you want her? It may seem a bit hypocritical of me to praise the virtues of
marital sex, given my main career choice, but that was because I was single. If
I was married to a woman with sex appeal like Ava, I’d be giving her my full
attention on a regular basis, multiple times daily. I buttoned up my jacket and
sighed. It had been nine months since I’d last given my full attention to a
woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had plenty of client appointments in the last
nine months, my calendar was always full such was my reputation for being the
best in the industry, but they were duties to be fulfilled; a job in exchange
for financial reward. They didn’t get my full attention, nor should they, or
what would I have left for my private life? I laughed again, what private life?
I didn’t have one. No, the last time I’d been fully in the moment with a woman,
was with my virgin for the night appointment with Summer Beresford.

Damn it. Nine months, nine
bloody
months
and I still couldn’t get that damn woman out of my head. Her booking hadn’t
just been about me performing a service for monetary reward. She’d got to me in
ways no other woman ever had, not even in my sorely lacking personal life
outside of “the job.” She’d made me feel, care and want to protect. I could
really fall for her in real life. I shook my head with a wry smile. Who the
fuck was I kidding? I
had
really fallen for her, and the real kicker?
She hadn’t had a damn clue. She assumed all my words and actions were just
Logan Steele, experienced hired seductor of women doing what she’d paid him to
do. I’d tried to forget about her, even deleted her client file and blocked her
email, just in case she tried to book me again. Never get emotionally attached
to a client was my main mantra, one I’d seriously fucked up the day I accepted
her booking. The trouble was, her debut movie was having its premiere in Leicester
Square next Saturday night and everywhere I looked, there she was; magazine
covers, interviews on the television, billboards, even on the damn radio. I
couldn’t forget her even if I wanted to. I even had a moment of weakness and
had driven to where she lived and parked up the street, sitting in my car for
an hour while I argued with myself as to whether to knock on her door, before
mentally slapping myself and roaring off. I was the guy she paid to fuck her,
nothing more. No woman in their right mind would want to date a guy with my
background. I slipped my phone into my trouser pocket as the intercom buzzed
and headed out to meet my driver, James. It was time to put my game face on.

‘Evening, Sir. How are you?’

‘Excellent, thank you, James. You?’

‘I can’t complain,’ he smiled, as he held the back
door open for me and I slid inside. He started the engine and pulled out before
speaking again. ‘Are we picking up Mr. Douglas on the way, or is he meeting us
there?’

‘Meeting us there,’ I nodded. ‘I didn’t think it
would do my reputation any good, if I was caught booking into a hotel suite
with another man.’ I flashed him a smile in the rear view mirror and he
chuckled.

‘No, I suppose it wouldn’t. Unless, of course, you
were thinking of branching out?’

‘No, I wasn’t,’ I retorted quickly. I’d booked
Trey Douglas for tonight, another up-and-coming male escort, nearly as well
hung as I was. He had that blond haired, blue-eyed, baby face look going on,
that a lot of women seemed drawn too. He was only twenty one and eager to
learn, so I’d taken him under my wing and had been advising him, giving him
some tips and techniques, without giving away all of my of secrets of course.
He was my go to guy for a ménage scenario. I’d made it clear from the beginning
that I was in charge, I called the shots and if he tried to poach one of my
clients, I’d blacklist him. He’d also received fair warning that he would
receive a black eye, or worse, if I felt a hand, tongue or any other appendage
anywhere on my anatomy. He looked mortified. He was as into women as I was and
it made our sessions a whole lot more relaxed that we knew we were both there
to focus on the woman and not on each other.

‘I left your overnight bag in your suite and the
morning after gift box you prepared for Mrs. Renshaw, with her toiletries and
fresh lingerie, as usual.’

‘Excellent, thank you, James.’

‘I notice that you’ve not booked The Dalton Hotel
for a while, Sir,’ James observed.

‘No,’ I replied, as my lips curled into a smile.
James might be an ex-marine, trained to be sneaky and covert, on top of deadly,
but he was never subtle when it came to trying to push me in a certain
direction.

‘May I ask the reason?’

‘I think that’s a rhetorical question, as you
already know the reason, James.’

‘Well of course I do, I just wondered if you did,’
he smiled. I shook my head. Between him and my best friend they seemed
determined to force me to deal with my inappropriate feelings for Summer. The
Dalton Hotel had always been my go to hotel in London for clients, unless their
fantasy didn’t involve a hotel bed, but since that night with Summer, I
couldn’t bring myself to take anyone else there. Like fucking someone else in
the bed where we’d first made love, where
I’d
first made love instead of
just fucking, would dilute those memories I had left of the best night of my
damn life.

‘Then let’s just leave it that we both do then,
shall we?’ I replied.

‘Didn’t mean to overstep, Sir.’

‘Please, I thought you were taught better poker
face skills than that in the military,’ I laughed.

‘You don’t like her enough to pursue her?’

‘She doesn’t like me enough to be pursued.’

‘And how would you know if you haven’t tried? In
order to fail at something, one must first attempt to succeed.’

‘Watch out, James. They’ll be building some
Tibetan temple and a bronze statue of you somewhere, for people to worship at
if you carry on with pearls of wisdom like that.’

‘Are you calling me a fat Buddha, Sir?’

‘No one in their right mind would dare to, with
your combat training,’ I grinned. ‘Miss Beresford is too nice for the likes of
me, James. She’s pure and innocent and a man like me would only corrupt and
taint her.’

‘I thought you’d already …
tainted
her,
Sir,’ James coughed. ‘Besides, wouldn’t it be better for her to be with a
decent, honourable man like you, than someone else who may not place her
welfare as their top priority?’

‘And what makes you think I’m the sort of man to
do that?’ I enquired with a raised brow.

‘You wouldn’t be so busy in your evening
profession if you weren’t, Sir,’ he replied. ‘I also know that Mr. Davenport
wouldn’t hold you in such high esteem if you weren’t a good man. He’s a very
good judge of character. Any man he calls a best friend is an honest, decent
man.’

I smiled. James was shrewd; he saw right through
me. I looked out of the window and frowned. Thinking about her with someone
else slayed me, but she did deserve better than me. She deserved someone
without my rather chequered past and present. A woman would never be able to
trust me if she knew my history. One day, when I was ready to quit this
lifestyle and just focus on my physical training clients, or even take up my
best friend’s offer of a management job in his own firm, then I could think
about finding a girl to go steady with. But my days as an escort were going to
have to stay firmly buried, if I stood a chance with anyone.