Chapter 5

When Daphne called me, I didn't know what to do. I don't think I really expected the manager of élégance agency to actually call me. But that's exactly what happened.

She interviewed me.

And I got the job! I've got a fairly good idea how, thanks to my secret little escort friend, and to say I'm nervous is an understatement.

Now I'm at some big-ass birthday party with Neve, wondering what the hell I got myself into.

I hold the champagne glass in my hand, the details still fuzzy in my mind.

I do remember having to list all the things I would and wouldn't do, as well as have a full medical.

Daphne was over the moon. She said she had a client who would undoubtedly love me. And this is where I am. Some rich guy"s birthday party where everyone is wearing masquerade costumes and elaborate face masks.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Neve says next to me. "You look a little tense."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous," I admit. "Do the nerves get any better?"

She gives my arm a squeeze. "Yes. It'll always be weird the first time, but it'll get easier, and you'll honestly start to enjoy it. If you don't, then you stop. You don't have to do anything, Charli. Remember that."

She makes it sound so easy, but then again she's been doing this for four years.

"Who is this guy anyway?" I wonder, glancing around the massive room.

This house — correction, mansion — is freaking unbelievable.

In the huge ballroom there are tables around the outskirts all adorned in beautiful, silken tablecloths. Huge, silver candelabras sit in the middle of each table with matching silver napkins standing upright in champagne flutes. There's a massive chandelier glittering in the middle of the room, the entire setup screams money. And this dude has a lot of it.

There's a band playing outside under a marquee, the music drifting in through the open doors as the tail end of summer still lingers in the air.

I wore emerald green. Apparently it looks good with my colouring or so I've been told, and the man I'm meeting tonight loves leggy blondes, green being his favourite colour.

"Unfortunately, I don't know much. Time didn't permit to ask the other girls. As far as I know, Mr. D — as he's affectionately known — has been off the escort circle for a little while, but Daphne said you'd be perfect for him, right?"

"Yep, she did."

Neve clapped her hands when I stood and she took my measurements. I didn't know whether to jump like a monkey in a circus or act cool and calm. At least she was enthusiastic about my appearance, because let's face it, that's all this is about.

It's just my body. It's not my mind, or my soul. It's just sex. I've had plenty of one-night stands — albeit a lot of them weren't all that great — and if I'm really lucky, this guy will be really, really good. It occurs to me that he could be a dud. That I'm the one that's supposed to do all the work pleasing him, not the other way round.

I run through the list of things that this mysterious Mr. D likes on the card Daphne gave me.

Giving and receiving oral sex

Holy shit.

So if he's a giver, I could be in for a very interesting evening.

We're also at this dude's birthday party, and he's forty-five, so that's only fifteen years older than me. Nothing too crazy. I just need to get a fucking gander at him so I can suss the guy out and see if he's hot or not. I don't even want to think about if he's some fat, balding guy… but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I've got strict instructions.

I'm not to meet or converse with him until midnight.

I'll wait for him in his room.

I'm a surprise from his best friends.

Happy Fucking Forty-Fifth Birthday.

I'm also being paid five thousand pounds for tonight.

Five grand. Well, less élégance cut which is 25%.

I've done my research this week. The going rate for a high-class hooker on a good wage is around four grand a week. Some charge by the hour, up to ￡200. So to earn five grand in one night not only excites me; it makes me tingle all over.

I just have to get through tonight. Do what he wants…

Enjoys being dominant.

BDSM - ropes, hand ties, spreader bar.

Holy shit. I mean, I've read about spreader bars in Fifty Shades, but this guy is kinky as fuck.

Spanking.

I've had a guy spank me before and I enjoyed it. He wasn't exactly a stud, but I was excited and enjoyed it when he talked dirty. Not that many guys tend to do that, but I don't mind rough sex. In fact, I prefer it. The rougher and hotter, the better.

There is something about a guy being dominant in the bedroom that sets my insides on fire. I can't fucking wait to meet this man. Where is he? Why hasn't he approached?

I know I'm a birthday present, but still. The fantasy in me can't help but create the scenario of him seeing me first. Of him wanting me first.

I haven't thought about what happens if this goes wrong, but Daphne assured me that this client is one of the few that they allow to see the escorts outside of the élégance club and the Diamond Hotel. I recently learned the hotel is part of the same company and that's where all the action takes place. élégance itself is a gentlemen"s strip club. Neve told me she doesn"t strip there; she only offers escort services for her regulars. I wonder if I get this guy to like me if I could be his regular. I mean, this could be really lucrative. I could even give up my day job…

Breathe, Charlize. Just breathe.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"So, you have my number, and if you want to back out at any stage, you can. Daphne will understand, this is your first night…" Neve goes on, breaking my reverie. "You're bound to be nervous, it's normal."

"That's just it. Why did she give me such a high profile client the first time? She doesn't even know if I'm any good." I huff.

Neve giggles. "Honey, you're a man's walking wet dream. Trust me, you're going to knock his socks off in that dress. You know how to move. Sex is basic, and from the sounds of it, he's the one who likes to dominate, so you could be in for the ride of your life."

"Let's hope so," I sigh. "I kinda just want to get it over with."

Neve turns to face me. "That right there, we're not doing that, missy."

"Doing what?" I frown.

"The whole wanting tonight to go fast. You're here to enjoy yourself. Look at all the men staring at you, Charli. You're a vision."

I glance around at her words. I see a few men looking our way. "They're looking at you," I whisper. "Let's not kid ourselves here."

She shakes her head. "That is simply not true. You're stunning, darling. And if I know anything about this business, it's when men are staring at me or another girl."

I bite my lip, unsure of a lot of things tonight, but one thing I'm not unsure about is that five thousand dollar paycheck. That's if he isn't a fucking serial killer with a chainsaw kink.

I shudder at the thought.

"I appreciate the fact you're trying to pep talk me," I say. "I need all the encouragement I can get right now."

She gives me a sympathetic smile. "Babe, you're gonna do fine. Daphne wouldn't put you with a loser, I promise."

I nod. I have faith. Maybe I am the most naive thirty year old on the planet, but I have to believe that this all happened for a reason. Right?

I gulp my champagne down, earning me a warning look from Neve. I don't want to be shit-faced. When she takes two more glasses off a passing waiter, she holds mine out to me. "Sip this slowly, darling. We don't want you out for the count before any action begins."

I clear my throat. "I think we should make a toast."

She piques a brow. "Fantastic idea, what did you have in mind?"

"To us being the Belles of the Ball tonight." We clink glasses. "And to great sex."

She smirks, taking her glass to her lips and sipping slowly. Neve brought one of her regulars with her tonight, so at least she knows what she's in for.

As we move around the room, I notice that I do get glances from men…It makes me feel more confident, and strangely, less nervous. I have to say, men in suits fucking rock. By the time I cross the ballroom to the outside area, my cheeks are pink and my nipples are pebbling. I love a man's attention on me, and it's so much more exciting in disguise. Tonight I can be whoever I want to be.

I know that I'm having second thoughts, but as the night rolls on, I convince myself that the man I'm going to be with tonight is going to be perfect. I dismiss the other thoughts making butterflies dance in my stomach; the fact that the chances of him being some super-duper guy with a heart of gold and a big dick are pretty low. There has to be something wrong with him if he's paying for sex, right? Or am I just stuck in a mind-set?

Breathe, or you'll never get through this.

When I met Neve's date earlier — not the same man from the bar — I have to say I was envious. He's gorgeous. Tall. Tan. A business executive who works in Mayfair.

He's not even old; in fact, he's only mid-thirties.

So Mr. D is only forty-five, that's not ancient or anything, but there are a lot of really old forty-five year olds and he could be one of them. Please dear God, do not make this man disgusting. I beg of you.

I haven't spent any time around élégance club to know what the men are like that frequent there. And the idea of dancing in a man's lap seems far more abhorrent to me than doing this in private, which is stupid, I know.

I just need to stop overthinking it. I've made the decision. I'm here.

I am going to fuck this man and I'm going to get paid.

The quicker I get my head around that and make peace with it, the better off I"ll be.

When it's time to go up to his room, I take the instructions and make my way there, hugging Neve before I leave.

"Call me at any time, okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

Now I'm in the suite and I know he'll be here any minute, it's making all of this so much more real.

The room is quiet as I take in the plushness of my surroundings.

Like downstairs, it's opulent with an overhead chandelier, a giant four-poster bed, plush wallpaper that feels silky to the touch, and a carpet so soft that I'd bet it's Persian.

I sigh, sliding my heels off for a moment to appreciate the softness under my feet.

I've spent all night sipping on the same glass of champagne. Nibbling from the buffet, and still my stomach groans. I was too nervous to eat anything substantial.

Dancing with Neve — and a couple of guys who joined in — I also felt the birthday boy watching me.

Mr. D.

He finally came out of the woodwork.

Neve worked out who he was, and while I only got a glance of him once, I liked what I saw. A thrill runs through me when I think about his body in the three piece monkey suit he was wearing. How his shoulders barely fit into his jacket. His messy, dark hair slicked back off his face which was covered by a detailed, glittering mask.

His eyes were on me all night.

I could feel him watching my every move, and I have to admit that I maybe shook up that dance floor a little too much when I knew he was watching. Feeling his eyes on me sparked something lustful deep inside. Like I was owning not just the dancefloor, but also all of his attention.

I wanted him to desire me.

To take my body and give me what I want, because make no mistake, this may be all about him, but I have needs too. And by crikey those needs are going to be met by my hunk of a mystery man.

I wonder if he knew I was his at that point. His friends stood around him, watching, too. I doubt they'd have any clue that I was his woman for tonight. These things are meant to be discreet, but when I hear the latch on the door; I quickly scurry back into my shoes and get into position.

Mr. D likes a woman who has her back to him; that's what Daphne said. Along with: ‘Let him explore you. He'll take the lead—' Whatever the hell that means.

I plant my hands on the end of the four-poster bed, leaning over slightly so my ass sticks out. My dress is riding up far shorter than is considered decent, but I'm sure he won't mind. The only sound is my beating heart, racing in my chest ten to the dozen. My head is all over the place — wondering mainly if I can go through with this.

The floorboards creek slightly when the door opens, then it slips closed and I hear his movements as he pads across the carpet. It feels like the room temperature just went up a million degrees — suddenly I'm all hot and clammy.

He walks closer and every step he takes causes my heart to leap in my chest.

Holy shit, this is happening.

"Well, well," he mutters under his breath. "What do we have here?"

I can barely think straight. I"m so turned on. I want him to touch me… now.

"Happy Birthday," I whisper. "Courtesy of your bestest friends. They didn't know what to get you, so… here I am."

I hear the swoosh of his jacket being removed, then it lands right next to my hands on the comforter, his face mask follows shortly after.

In the next second, he's standing right behind me.

"I saw you," he whispers. "On the dance floor. You're… you're beautiful."

I feel relief flood through me, my stomach almost bottoming out, as his hands come to grip my hips. His touch sears into my skin like molten lava.

I feel his erection press into my ass as he presses his body against my back.

Oh, lord. He feels so damn good.

His scent is masculine. Like spice and wood all rolled into one. It's the sexiest smell I've ever encountered.

"What's your name?" His mouth is at the nape of my neck.

I smile to myself, then say, "Whatever you want it to be."

I knew tonight was going to be epic, but I had no idea just how thrilling it was going to be and how much my senses would be on fire.

I've no idea what he has in store for me, and the night has only just begun.