mirth. “I’m sorry. We just don’t usually call it that. We call it an escort service.”
“So, basically a date I pay for,” he said, nodding and seeming to mull the idea over.
“Well, real gentlemen should always pay on the first date,” I said, giving him a flirtatious little pout. “If you have any questions about the specifics, I can have my boss come and explain them to you.”
Xander smiled and shook his head. “I don’t want to get bogged down in the specifics,” he said, twisting his hand in the grip I still maintained so his fingers could dance over my palm. It made me shudder. “Of course I’d be honored to go out on a date with you — or to engage your service as an escort. Whatever you want to call it.”
I’d have been lying if I denied the fact that calling it a date was infinitely better. It made me feel like a jerk, but it was true.
“Would you like anything else here before we leave?” I asked. “Another drink? A dance, perhaps?”
The rules still applied as long as we were on the property, but something tantalized me about the idea of giving Xander a private dance. Maybe I’d set the hook even deeper. I thought briefly back on Jennet joking that she’d hook her Prince Charming through his stomach — after she stole all of my delicious Cuban recipes. How was I hooking men? Through sex — pure and simple.
“Here’s what I’d like to do,” Xander began, leaning closer and smiling at me in a way that made my toes curl a little. He was really a very handsome man. “I want to spend as much time with you as you’ll tolerate, but on one condition.”
I blinked a few times, surprised. He wanted to spend as much time together as I wanted? Did he have any idea how expensive that would get? He said he didn’t want to be bothered with specifics, but I felt like someone needed to tell him.
“What’s the condition?” I asked.
“We do whatever you want to do.”
Chapter 4
Some of the dancers told stories about the kind of men they crossed paths with. A lot of men liked to dominate. Maybe they were subordinates at their jobs, always having to say “yes, sir” to men they loathed and envied, always having to clean up after other people. When they got to the club, though, they could be anyone they wanted to be. That was the magic of it. As long as a customer had money, he could be the CEO of the company. However a customer behaved, a dancer was there to act as a counterpoint. If he was demanding, she’d demure. If he asked her to do something, like sit on his lap or give him a dance or fetch him another drink, she’d hop to it. If she did what he fantasized about correctly, the tip would reflect his appreciation.
Other girls gossiped about the men who were polar opposites. These type were often the men in charge in the real world, the ones who had to make decisions all day and give orders and never had the opportunity to be told what to do. This game was a whole different animal. These men came to the club to relax, and they often liked for the dancers they chose for company to dominate them. It was nothing freaky, nothing in the way of whips and chains and hot wax and safe words. But the girls ordered the men around, demanding expensive drinks, obedience, slavish loyalty.
They were two sides of the same coin, these games, and what Xander had just asked of me was a whole other form of currency.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” I said. “Most escort jobs —”
“Let’s call it a date,” he said. “If it’s all right with you, of course. You’re
“So, basically a date I pay for,” he said, nodding and seeming to mull the idea over.
“Well, real gentlemen should always pay on the first date,” I said, giving him a flirtatious little pout. “If you have any questions about the specifics, I can have my boss come and explain them to you.”
Xander smiled and shook his head. “I don’t want to get bogged down in the specifics,” he said, twisting his hand in the grip I still maintained so his fingers could dance over my palm. It made me shudder. “Of course I’d be honored to go out on a date with you — or to engage your service as an escort. Whatever you want to call it.”
I’d have been lying if I denied the fact that calling it a date was infinitely better. It made me feel like a jerk, but it was true.
“Would you like anything else here before we leave?” I asked. “Another drink? A dance, perhaps?”
The rules still applied as long as we were on the property, but something tantalized me about the idea of giving Xander a private dance. Maybe I’d set the hook even deeper. I thought briefly back on Jennet joking that she’d hook her Prince Charming through his stomach — after she stole all of my delicious Cuban recipes. How was I hooking men? Through sex — pure and simple.
“Here’s what I’d like to do,” Xander began, leaning closer and smiling at me in a way that made my toes curl a little. He was really a very handsome man. “I want to spend as much time with you as you’ll tolerate, but on one condition.”
I blinked a few times, surprised. He wanted to spend as much time together as I wanted? Did he have any idea how expensive that would get? He said he didn’t want to be bothered with specifics, but I felt like someone needed to tell him.
“What’s the condition?” I asked.
“We do whatever you want to do.”
Chapter 4
Some of the dancers told stories about the kind of men they crossed paths with. A lot of men liked to dominate. Maybe they were subordinates at their jobs, always having to say “yes, sir” to men they loathed and envied, always having to clean up after other people. When they got to the club, though, they could be anyone they wanted to be. That was the magic of it. As long as a customer had money, he could be the CEO of the company. However a customer behaved, a dancer was there to act as a counterpoint. If he was demanding, she’d demure. If he asked her to do something, like sit on his lap or give him a dance or fetch him another drink, she’d hop to it. If she did what he fantasized about correctly, the tip would reflect his appreciation.
Other girls gossiped about the men who were polar opposites. These type were often the men in charge in the real world, the ones who had to make decisions all day and give orders and never had the opportunity to be told what to do. This game was a whole different animal. These men came to the club to relax, and they often liked for the dancers they chose for company to dominate them. It was nothing freaky, nothing in the way of whips and chains and hot wax and safe words. But the girls ordered the men around, demanding expensive drinks, obedience, slavish loyalty.
They were two sides of the same coin, these games, and what Xander had just asked of me was a whole other form of currency.
“I’m not sure what you’re asking,” I said. “Most escort jobs —”
“Let’s call it a date,” he said. “If it’s all right with you, of course. You’re
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