Bought: A Standalone Romance(2)

By: Glenna Sinclair

I kick off my heels. My feet have a small throb in the soles that I massage lazily. A growl shatters the silence of the room, and I moan. Food hasn’t been on my mind since earlier in the evening, when I was being wined and dined by Mr. Moans-a-lot.

A small smile stretches the corners of my mouth as I think about this. All of my clients, I’ve given nicknames. Mr. Handsy, who always has to grab my ass every second that we’re around each other. There’s Mr. Nose, who not only has a huge nose, but also tries to stick it into my business whenever possible. And there’s Mr. “Dominant.” I have to scoff. He’s the worst of them all. He insists that I call him sir and sit on my knees, and I comply because the stack of cash he gives me at the end of the night is more than enough to forget all of the idiotic things that he says.

I bite my lip. It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a man, a real man, who knew how to bring me to my knees. Who knew how to make me serve him. I miss that. Although I try to stay as far away from dating as possible, I can’t help but to crave that.

A solid touch. A certain glance. A whispered word. Then, BAM, I’m on my knees. The smallest of moans escapes my lips, and I glance around in embarrassment as if there’s someone else staying there besides me. I sigh. What I want, I can’t have. Regular men don’t get me; clients want, more than anything, to possess or own me. I don’t want that either.

I can hear my phone ringing in my bag, sitting on the counter. The buzzing stops, then starts up again. I groan. It can’t be anyone but Zoey. I push myself off of the couch before digging into my bag. Zoey’s name glows.

“What happened now?”

“Nothing happened,” she says, loud music blaring behind her. “I just wanted to see how your ‘date’ went. That, and I wanted you to come grab drinks with me.”

“No can do. I’m exhausted.”

“Come on, you’re such a pain in the ass lately. Come have some fun for once! You deserve it.”

I roll my eyes. “You always say that.”

“I always mean it, babe.”

“Let me take a shower and I’ll think about it.”

Zoey squeals. “That’s a yes.”

“It’s an ‘I’ll think about it!’”

“See you in thirty!”

I sigh as the sound of the phone hanging up rings in my ear. A smile creeps onto my face. Zoey has been my best friend since eighth grade. She knows everything about me, even the escorting, and still loves me for who I am. I can’t help but chuckle as I shed my clothes and head upstairs. Zoey is the opposite of me. I may be outspoken, but she’s obscene. She’s short, with beautiful brown skin and a firecracker personality. On top of that, she’s smart. I mean really smart. She’s an attorney and can outsmart everyone she comes up against, but she still loves to party.

As the water washes over my skin, I sigh. Steam rises, filling the large bathroom in no time at all, until I’m waving my hand in front of my face when I step out. Picking up a thick red towel, I wrap myself up in it before I walk out of the bathroom and into my large room.

The closet is definitely my favorite part of my bedroom. It’s a huge walk-in with row after row of clothes, shoes, accessories, and makeup. Custom building it was a pain, but worth it in the end. I reach into the closet and pull out my favorite dress. It’s a deep, dark wine color that dips low between my breasts and stops mid-thigh. It hugs my curves lovingly, and the material slips over my skin like a dream.

I wiggle into the dress before I reapply my makeup. I run my fingers through my black hair, happy that for once it falls into place effortlessly. Heels are on my feet before I’m rushing out of the door to meet with Zoey. No lie, I could use a drink. I’m sick of the faceless bastards that I’m forced to hold conversations with day after day. Real conversation, that’s my craving. Or maybe just a real nice fuck.

That thought perks me up. Yes, a nice fuck. I want a guy to throw me down, rip off my clothes, ravish me, leave me trembling… I shake off the thought as quickly as it comes on. The tell-tale dampening of my lacey panties tells me that this needs to become a reality, soon.

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