Escorting the Billionaire (The Escort Collection #1) Page 4

  Second, I didn’t want to care about James Preston. He was a John. The Johns were a nameless, faceless group of men that I preferred to block out. I’d cultivated only a fuzzy memory of the men who’d rented me, and I liked it that way. That was the only way I could sleep at night and meet my own eyes in the mirror each morning.

  “So, is graphic design something you did?” James asked me, breaking my reverie. “You know, before?”

  “Before hooking?” I asked. “Nah. I never went to school.”

  “Too excited to jump into your chosen profession?” he asked.

  I gave him a quick look: he didn’t appear to be kidding. I supposed he thought he was being kind by being blunt, but really, he was just being an ass. Nobody hooked because it was exciting.

  You hooked because you had daddy issues. Duh.

  “Something like that,” I said. I decided that every time I found him insulting, I would just look at his head and see a big dollar sign there instead. I hoped he kept saying unattractive things. It would certainly help combat the unwieldy urge I had to check out what he had going on under that suit.

  “So, where are we going first?” I asked.

  “To my apartment. It’s in the Back Bay. I’m not here much, but I like to have my own place when I am. We’ll get you settled, change, and go meet my family for an early dinner. And drinks. There’s always drinks when you’re with my family.” He paused. “So it’ll be my brother Todd, Evie, and my parents. Celia and Robert. And probably a few cousins, aunts, friends, business associates…”

  “Are your parents lawyers, too?” I asked.

  “My father is a partner at a major law firm. Has been for years. He moves corporate money around. My mother does charitable work and goes to lots of lunches where she doesn’t eat. She’s really…”

  I raised my eyebrows at him and waited.

  “Thin,” he said. He turned to look out the window. He was quiet for a beat. “My parents are very proper. They’re into Boston society. They also have family money.” He almost sounded as if he was apologizing.

  “Family money?” I asked. “On top of major-law-firm money?”

  “Yes, and lots of it,” James said, still looking out the window. “It’s very much a part of who they are.”

  I swallowed hard. I had probably never met people as rich as this before. Most of my Johns were wealthy, but all they wanted to do was have sex. Not parade me around for their families. I looked down at my blue dress; it was getting wrinkled in the car. It wasn’t going to do.

  “Well, we’ll tell them we met when I was out in California for my internship. You couldn’t resist my…charms,” I said, trying to be brave.

  I looked down at my chest in a push-up bra. I was charming, all right.

  I continued, “We’ve been dating for a few months, doing the long-distance thing. My family’s from New England—I’ll tell them they’re dead. They can infer that I’m living off my inheritance. And no, I don’t have any other family. So, no one for them to look up, no one for them to ask to meet.”

  James snorted. “I doubt they’d bother with all that.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  “Because they aren’t going to be that interested in you once they figure out that you’re not society. You will just be a blip on their highfalutin radar. And they don’t think I’m ever getting married, anyway.”

  “So I’m doomed. They’re going to hate me,” I said in a wave of real nerves. “They won’t even know I’m a whore—but I’m still not good enough for you.”

  James shrugged. “They would hate you a lot more if they knew you were a whore—an escort. But yes, they’ll hate you anyway, or at least dismiss you, because you’re not from their world.”

  “Your world,” I said.

  He shook his head at me. “That’s not my world. My world is self-made. I didn’t use their money for what I’ve built. I did it myself. And I’m not interested in what country club anyone belongs to, or what boarding school they went to. My parents are more invested in society than they are in anything.”

  “Maybe we should say my family was really wealthy,” I said, shrugging.

  “Wealthy isn’t good enough. It’s about the right people, Audrey, not how much money the people have. It’s who your parents knew and where they went to school and what boards they sat on. If just money was good enough, then I’d be good enough.”

  I was quiet for a second, wanting to remember every word he said. He was a puzzle I had to piece together. One part was clear: his family sucked. I was sure about it, and I hadn’t even met them yet.

  He must have seen the look on my face because his own face relaxed into a smile. “It won’t be that bad, Audrey. They’re civilized. They won’t say anything bad to your face—they have manners. They’ll stab you in the back instead. It shows how well-bred they are. They adhere to that rule no matter how many vodkas they’ve had.”

  “Awesome,” I said, dreading it all now almost as much as he was.

  “Don’t say ‘awesome’ in front of Celia,” he said. “We want you to stay off her radar. The further off, the better.”

  “Okay,” I mumbled quickly. I hadn’t even met her, but I already knew that Celia Preston was not someone I wanted to mess with.

  James went back to looking out the window, and I regarded his handsome profile. I was starting to sweat, and it had nothing to do with how hot he was.

  “So how do we win this?” I blurted out.

  James laughed and turned back to me. Instead of seeing a large dollar sign where his head was supposed to be, I saw his gorgeous face, the lines next to his mouth deepening. “How do we win?”

  I nodded at him, mentally kicking myself for my mouth that never seemed to stay shut when it should. “What is it you want from these two weeks? What’s your best outcome?” I asked.

  James shrugged as he considered me. “Let’s see how it goes this afternoon. I’ll tell you after that.”

  “Fair enough, James.”

  “Fair enough, Audrey.”

  The car went down another street into Back Bay and smoothly pulled up to a curb in front of The Stratum Hotel. The hotel was new to Boston and very chic, way outside my pay range. I’d had a couple dates over here, though. Two hedge-fund managers and a music producer. No one I wanted to remember.

  I hoped no one on staff would remember me.

  “I thought you said we were going to your apartment,” I said, confused.

  “I have a condominium here. It makes it easier. The hotel handles everything, and I don’t have to worry. Plus, it has housekeeping and room service.”

  A hotel doorman appeared and opened the door for James. He got out and held his hand out for me; I forcibly ignored the shock waves that his touch sent through me. If he changed his mind about the sex, that would be more than fine with me.

  In fact, it would probably be for the best. Every man I’d ever slept with had now become a John. They all blurred together. Maybe it would be better if James wasn’t quite so…special.

  Kai rolled down the window, and I nodded at him. “See ya later,” I called, and turned to find James frowning at us.

  “Have the bags sent up,” James snapped at Kai.

  “Easy, buddy,” I said. “We won’t gang up on you. I promise.” I reached for his hand again and twined my fingers through his; he immediately tried to pull back as we went through the doors to the opulent lobby of the hotel.

  “Uh-uh,” I said, gripping his hand more tightly. “We need to practice. Gotta look natural.” I turned and looked at the grand room: it was just like I remembered it. Marble floors, marble columns, teak woodwork accents in unexpected places. It was beautiful and pristine.

  I needed an apartment with a lobby like this.

  I would have to suck a lot of cock to be able to afford it.

  That thought made me burst out laughing.

  “What?” James asked, wrinkling his brow at me.

  “You don’t even want to know.”
I laughed some more as the desk clerks nodded to us. “Mr. Preston,” one of the female clerks said. I might have imagined it, but she seemed to be sticking her chest out at him.

  James pressed the button for the elevator.

  “What floor are you?” I asked, sticking my chest out at him.

  “The top.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Of course you are.”

  “Of course I am, is right.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t be fresh, Audrey. I thought we were in love.”

  “Part of being in love is calling people out when they act pretentious,” I said as the elevator rose silently.

  “I’m not in love with you, so I won’t tell you you’re stepping outside your pay grade,” he said in a warning tone. “Stop being so honest. You’re about to hurt my feelings, and I don’t have any.”

  “You’re the boss,” I said, laughing a little. Being alone with him in the elevator wasn’t helping my attraction to him, or my curiosity. I hoped he couldn’t hear my stupid, wildly pounding heart.

  This was the thing. The thing that I was working through in my head, as I held hands with my newest, sexiest, richest John in the history of all my Johns—and there were a lot, mind you. James was gorgeous. Any breathing heterosexual woman would instantly agree to that. He had huge shoulders, a square chin, and steel-blue eyes. On top of all this, he was tall, and from what I could guess was going on under his thousand-dollar-plus suit, he appeared to be devoted to working out, damn him.

  None of this would have me all that excited. Although I did like his hair, too…it was steel-colored, neither brown nor black, some in-between color of thick, wavy, glossy godliness, gelled back just enough to keep it off his face.

  But wait! I was getting off track here, again. Nothing about his looks, not even that glossy hair, was that thrilling to me. I’d been with lots of good-looking men, and while it sometimes made the job a little easier, I’d found that the good-looking ones were just as likely to be assholes as the plain-looking ones. In my experience, they were actually a little nastier. Maybe because they’d had everything handed to them their whole lives, and it still wasn’t working out for them.

  His looks weren’t what was troubling me.

  The fact that when he touched me my body responded with heat didn’t bother me, either. That was one good thing about hooking, aside from the money: I usually enjoyed the sex, as long as the John was decent and relatively kind.

  I also liked good-looking men with big shoulders and big…hands, which James had. Not that I’d been studying them in the car or anything, wondering if he was going to break down eventually and let me see what else he had that might be big…

  I was getting off track again. What I wanted to say, in one complete and uninterrupted thought, was what worried me about James, and what was going to happen over the next two weeks, was that he seemed almost normal. Like someone I could talk to. Like someone I might need to help.

  I needed a lot of things. Needing to help someone else was not one of them. In fact, that was probably the last thing I needed, on a long list of last things. I was going to have to watch my back with him. Not let him get under my skin. I had enough people to take care of.

  We were both watching the numbers on the dial go up, not saying a word. I wondered what he was thinking, and whether or not he felt the same heat between us that I felt.

  I wanted to un-feel it. It would just be so much easier, all things considered.

  We reached the top floor, and James punched the code in for his unit.

  “Holy shit,” I said, knocked out of my inner monologue by the stark beauty of James’s apartment. “This is gorgeous.”

  The space was massive, with enormous floor-to-ceiling windows letting in a flood of warm sunlight. Dark hardwood floors gleamed beneath a huge couch packed with colorful throw pillows, and colored clay vases dotted the various tables in the room. It was a stunning but comfortable space, a place where you wanted to pick up a huge book and curl up on the couch.

  Given James’s intense attitude, comfortable was not what I was expecting.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He released my hand and motioned for me to follow him in. “Thank you. I don’t like being back up here, so I wanted the space to feel like my house in California. Lots of light. Comfortable.”

  “It’s definitely not classic Boston,” I said, “but I love it.”

  “Where do you live?” he asked, and I could tell he almost didn’t want to.

  “New England School of Design campus housing,” I lied, easily.

  He smiled at me again. “Where do you really live, Audrey?”

  “Southie,” I said, and he nodded, not surprised. “It’s getting really yuppie, though.”

  “I bet.” He paused for a beat, and we stood there, awkwardly. The escort and the billionaire, all chatted out. He looked at his watch. “I’ll show you your room,” he said, heading down a hallway. I followed close behind, marveling at how enormous the apartment was, wanting to stop and ogle at the view of the city and the Commons below.

  James threw open a door, and I stepped into a beautiful bedroom with a king-sized bed. I went and sat on the bed and looked up at James.

  “Thank you. It’s lovely,” I said.

  He nodded at me, and a flicker of something—I didn’t know him well enough to recognize it—crossed his face. He started backing out the door.

  “You don’t have to go, James,” I said in a low voice. “If you want, we can just do this now. So we seem natural around your family.” I patted the bed.

  What are you doing? I asked myself. He told Elena no sex. You were happy about that. So what the hell, Audrey?

  The thing was, I only sort of wanted to fuck him. It was more that I wanted to get it out of the way. It was more that I wanted this just to be a regular job, a regular exchange—money for sex.

  Not money for I wasn’t sure what.

  I wanted to make him a John.

  James smiled at me and held up his hand. “I’m sure it would be…a pleasure,” he said. His eyes took me in hungrily but only for a moment. “But I already told Elena. That’s not what you’re for. You’re here to play a public role. So try to keep your legs crossed, and keep your eye on the ball. The ball, Audrey. Not my balls.”

  He closed the door, hard, and I tried to ignore the inexplicable fact that I wanted to cry once I was alone.

  James

  Fucking women, I thought as I marched down to my bedroom and slammed the door.

  You never knew what they wanted. First, it was sex, then it was money. Right now it was sex for money. Or something.

  I couldn’t figure this Audrey out, and I didn’t want to.

  My cock was hard and throbbing; it didn’t want to figure her out, either, but it wanted to get in there and pound her, hard. I didn’t blame it.

  I went into the bathroom and locked the door. Go back in there and get it over with, I thought. I wanted to. I wanted to fuck her, to watch that long brown hair spill down her back. Grab her breasts and suck on them, greedily claiming her body as mine.

  So. Fucking. Inconvenient.

  I unzipped my pants and grabbed myself, a little roughly, imagining her writhing beneath me, arching her back, and calling my name.

  It only took a couple more images like that to make me come, hot, stupid liquid spurting out of me. It was easy.

  Too easy.

  I groaned, spent but still unsatisfied, and leaned against the counter. Clearly, I wanted to fuck her. She was beautiful, sexy, and she actually seemed smart. I was surprised by that and angry at myself for being surprised—I prided myself on not underestimating people. Underestimating people was how you got stabbed in the back, or got an ice pick to the back of the head, Trotsky-style.

  So you should just do it, I thought, cleaning up the mess I’d made. But that was just it. I didn’t want to clean up another mess. When I’d gone to Elena, I’d said no sex because I just wanted this to be a business transaction. I wanted it to be a
nother item on a list that I could control and check off.

  Attend Todd’s wedding. Check.

  Appear to be successful personally as well as professionally. Check.

  Not have to deal with so many questions and nagging about having an heir that I want to kill everybody in my family. Check.

  If Audrey hadn’t been nice, and smart and funny, I’d be back there banging her right now, as soon as she’d asked. I was very particular, but I was not a man that said no to sex with a beautiful woman easily. I was not that controlled, even though I desperately wished I was. It would make the messiness of life a lot easier.

  But she was nice. And smart and funny. I didn’t need this to be any more complicated than it already was. I didn’t need to like her. In fact, liking her would work against me in the long run.

  So no sex was going to stay no sex, but for a different reason than I’d planned.

  I grabbed my phone, thinking about calling Elena. I could return Audrey and ask for a different girl, I reasoned, someone more like that Jenny. Someone more obvious. She wouldn’t work as well with my family, but I wouldn’t need to pay any attention to her, either. She would literally be a no-brainer, ha ha.

  A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door.

  “What,” I said as Audrey came through the threshold. She looked twitchy and troubled.

  “I’m sorry about before,” she said nervously. “It’s the escort in me. I guess I thought you didn’t mean it. What you told Elena.”

  I raised my eyebrows at her.

  “About the no sex thing,” she said, explaining. “So I figured I’d be the one to break the ice.”

  “I appreciate that, Audrey,” I said and smiled at her. “You thinking of me.”