Selling Satisfaction (19 page)

She reaches for her purse but I race over to her, wrapping my arms around her. "Don't go," I beg.

Her body remains still, completely unmoving in my arms. She doesn't fight me off, so I take that as a positive sign. "Why?" she whispers after a second.

I hold her closer to me, closing my eyes. After a second, I hear a thud of the purse dropping, then her arms wrap around me as well. We hold one another for several minutes. I hope it brings her half as much comfort as it brings me.

Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head, not removing my hands from around her body. "I'm sorry if I was out of line. I'm angry for you. I hate that you feel the way you do, I hate that he did that to you, and I hate even more that you don't trust me enough to tell his name. But I understand where you're coming from, even if I don't agree."

She peeks up at me, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She's silent in her heartache.

I let her go only for the fact of being able to run the pad of my thumb along her cheeks, ridding them from the tears. I fix the bit of makeup that got smudged with it, then push back all her hair covering any parts of her face. Brenna stares up at me, but I can't gauge a reaction from her.

"I want to protect you," I whisper.

"I've never had anyone do that for me," she whispers back. "I don't know how to handle it."

"Let me show you."

She runs her fingers through the side of my hair, taking a fistful of it with her hand then letting go. She does it a second time a little more hesitantly. When she starts to do it a third time, she doesn't let go. Instead she uses it to pull my mouth to hers.

I can feel when she starts to cry again, this time it's while we kiss, but I don't think it's out of pain. No, I'm quite certain it's for all the opposite reasons. For allowing herself to open up to me, for letting this happen. For taking a step in the direction of letting go, so that one day, hopefully, she can fall in love with me.

Opening my mouth to hers, she runs her tongue along the inside of my mouth. It devours my entirety. It leaves me needing more of her. I walk backwards, heading towards the bedroom. She follows, becoming more breathless with each needy step. When we get into the room, I turn to walk Brenna backwards, waiting for her legs to hit the bed so she can fall backwards. I fall with her, keeping us connected.

She twists our bodies so she's on top, kissing me more passionately. Her fierceness takes over, all her emotions getting pushed away. Disconnecting our mouths, she sits straight on my lap, looking down at me with question in her eyes.

"Everett," she says fervently. "Will you make love to me?"

My hands grip into her thighs, needing to hold onto something after hearing those words come out of her mouth. "I'll do anything you want of me."

Her arms cross in front of her as she grips the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her shoulders, tossing it somewhere to the ground. Her heaving chest is laced in yellow. I truly don't know if I want her to take the bra off or not, all I know is when it's removed, I want it to be by me.

"Stand up," I tell her. "Take off your jeans. I need to see what else you're wearing."

I fucking love the smile she gives me.

Standing up, she faces towards me while unclasping her jeans, sliding them down her legs before kicking them away. When she straightens back up, she holds her hands to her hips, proudly displaying the most incredible body I've ever seen. The only fabric covering her is the matching underwear set she has on, and dammit, they only add to the sexiness that is Brenna.

"Do you like what you see?" She asks, waiting for something from me. Anything.

I give her a throaty grunt, unable to form words for a minute. I look back up to those hypnotizing green eyes, unable to stop myself from telling her. "I love it. I love everything about you, Brenna."

I let what Everett says
slip in one ear and out the other. I don't take it as him actually being in love with me, he simply loves my body, and cannot wait to screw me. Except, I don't want him to fuck me. I want him to be passionate with me. The way he is with his words is the exact same way I want his body to be with mine. Passionate, fierce, loving.

Something I've never had before.

Stepping forward, I say, "Show me."

He sits up, quickly pulling his shirt over his head, shredding away his pants and socks immediately after. All that remains are his boxer briefs. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband to slide them off, but I stop him by putting my hand over his. "Let me," I suggest.

We lock eyes as I slowly slide the last remaining article of clothing off him, and once they're off, I look him over. His stomach is toned with rippled muscles but not overly dramatically so. He has a deep v at his waistline. I follow along it to see he is as big as he looked in the picture I received the other night... and definitely equally as hard. I run my fingers over his length, glancing back up to see if he's watching me. He stares at my hand then slowly makes his way up my body again, forcing his sight on my eyes as well.

"My turn," he murmurs. Standing up, he reaches for the clasp on the front of my bra, unhooking it to glide down my arms onto the floor. He licks his lips as he examines my breasts. One hand covers one and I'm pretty sure I hear him mumble the word
fuck
under his breath.

His hand slides down my midsection, running his fingers gently against my skin. He laces his fingers into my underwear, and slowly allows them to descend down my legs. He kneels down in the same swift motion. Locking eyes with me, I see the arousal evident in his pupils.

"I told you I was going to kiss you everywhere." He leans forward to press his lips against my hip, then kisses the other. He sucks softly between kisses in every inch of skin between. I'm drenched in need for Everett before he's even touched me anywhere necessary for an orgasm.

"Lay on the bed," he orders in a whispered demand.

I do as he says.

Running his fingers along my inner thighs, I spread open for him. His breath hitches while he examines everything I've exposed to him. Running his finger along my slit, the side of his mouth lifts. "You're soaked." He looks up at me to see if I'm even paying attention.

“Mmm!" It seems to be the only thing I can say as I lean back into the mattress. He starts kissing me down one leg, then back up, switching over to the other for a repeat. It's teasing, but it feels so damn good. His fingers trace along the skin of my legs, lightly memorizing everything under their touch. He runs them upward, towards my hips, resting them directly on either side before pulling my body towards the edge of the bed more.

In the next moment his mouth is tasting my pussy, licking my clit before giving it a small suction with this mouth, followed by flicking his tongue out once more. He runs the edge of his tongue in many directions, licking me, tasting me, eating me out to the point of my body convulsing against him.

"Oh... my... God," I moan out. My body starts to grind against his mouth as he continues assaulting between my legs with his mouth. When I feel a second orgasm about to erupt, I reach down to grip into his hair, pulling his face to the exact location I need, then grinding my hips into him, riding my orgasm out on his face.

When I let go, my body collapses into the mattress once more, unsure if I can have another intense feeling like that, but when he starts kissing upwards, I know we're nowhere close to being finished. Honestly, I'm glad... because this isn't sex, this is making love... and he isn't a client, he's the man I'm falling head over heels for.

When he kisses along my jaw, he stops at my ear. "Can I kiss your mouth? I want you to taste how incredible you are?"

"Do whatever you want, baby," I breathe in response.

He kisses me with a force unlike any other. His hand between my legs, rubbing circles on my clit, while we make out. My hands run along his back, attempting to pull his body to mine, but he doesn't give in yet. He waits for me to come once more at his touch. As I start to fall apart, he stops kissing me so he can look down at me.

The moment I'm done with my spout of euphoria, he grins with delight. "You are gorgeous when you come."

I know my face flames red, but I don't say anything. It isn't exactly an appropriate time to thank him. Instead, I reach down to wrap my hand around his dick. I run it up and down, listening to his nearly silent moan. He closes his eyes, his lips parting over the fact of me touching him. I understand his reasoning for loving my o-face, because there is certainly something invigorating about seeing the pleasure on his face while knowing I'm the one causing it.

"I'm going to get a condom," he whispers without movement. Peeking an eye open, he looks down at me, his eyes are hooded and filled with so much passion and pleasure, it's electrifying. "Then I'm going to make love to you, Brenna."

I've had sex hundreds of times before, but as I lay here exposed to Everett, I know this is the first time I'll ever make love. He positions himself between my legs, looking down at me lovingly. In a way I've never seen before- in a way I won't soon forget. His hand presses against my cheek, holding me affectionately, while the other helps keep him upright. He pushes forward, filling me entirely.

We're silent while we rock our bodies together, but there are no need for words. After a few minutes, we both become heavy with our breathing, our thrusts become stronger, and our bodies start to tangle within one another. He finds ways to make me feel pleasure unlike any time before, he gets me to scream out his name after a few hard thrusts, then he flips us over so I'm on top.

I grind against him, our bodies still connected, still touching. Sweat pours between our bodies. He kisses my chin, running his lips along my throat to my collar bone. I pant out his name when he bites down on my skin.

He flips us over once more, this time to bring my leg up higher, giving him a better angle inside of me. Everett's body is demanding and intense. I'm starting to fall apart once more.

Looking down at me, he grins. "Are you about to come?" he asks breathlessly.

I nod in response, feeling it take over. He presses his lips fiercely to mine, then pulls away ever so much. I can still taste his breath on my lips when he whispers, "Come with me."

And as if those words were magic, my fingers dig into his skin while every nerve in my body explodes in all the directions of the world. He tightens his grip in my hair, letting out a breathy groan while his body stills, then he relaxes once more.

Kissing along my shoulder, until he reaches back to my mouth, he rests his lips on mine.

I know now, for as long as I live, nothing will ever compare to this moment.

*~*~*

Friday night I fell asleep
in Everett's arms. I woke up sometime around three in the morning, he was still holding onto me as if I would escape if he dared moved. In a way, I wanted to, but in a million other ways, everything was right in the world.

Then my mind decided to wake up moments later, resulting in me never falling back asleep. I overthought every single aspect of what was happening. By the time he woke up I had a dozen debates with myself, with the end result being that I am going to try this. I am going to let it happen. I'm letting Everett into my world.

I thought over everything Kandy and I discussed the other day- or rather, what she said to me. About the fact I'm so young, I have a hundred options in front of me. Truth be told, out of it all, I want to follow in her footsteps. I want to run the business, find others like myself, like Mona, like Kandy, who need a guide... who need opportunities. I'm going to try to meet with her on Monday to discuss starting the process of learning her routines.

Not until recently did I ever think I'd change my life, especially for a man. Not that it's strictly for Everett, it's for myself as well, but as of a month ago things were perfectly acceptable, now I feel... guilty.

Guilty that I'm betraying Everett's trust, that I'm lying to him about what I do, that I'm sleeping with other men then hours later I'm making love to Everett. I know I can't ever be honest with him, not entirely, but I can't continue these charades without consequences. Eventually I'll end up caught, then the last remainders of my heart will evaporate. I'll be broken too many times to be fixable.

So I'm going to take it slow, and I'm going to be cautious. If that is a possibility. I've barely known Everett a month and he's already twisted, flipped, and pulled my life in directions I hadn't deemed imaginable. I can't lie by saying I hate it, because I don't, but I am scared. I'm terrified beyond belief. This isn't anything I'd ever expect in my life.

Running the brush through my hair, I stare at myself in the mirror. It makes me wonder what it is that caused Everett to chase after me in the first place. Was it my looks? My personality? A combination of both? I feel like I was a bitch to him, for no reason other than the fact he had a dick. I pushed him away, I wasn't much of a friend. It didn't matter to him, he still continued to pursue me, and most of the time he was respectful about it.

Maybe that is what I started to like about him. That he didn't give up on me. Something I'm not used to. The only person in my life that hasn't given up on me this far has been Kandy. Somewhat Hillarie as well. I'm still skeptical about it all. I'm more nervous over this than any other life experience up to this point in life.

Reaching into the drawer, I pull out my makeup kit. I start to layer on the foundation, adding blush to my cheeks. I swipe gold across my lids before lining them in black. I add two coats of mascara to my lashes. I've done this countless times, getting ready for a night with a man. A man to me that has no name other than
John
because he's a client. He isn't someone I'll ever fall for, someone who will ever love me- that is what I had wanted. All I ever attempted to care for in life.

Now that I'm preparing for a night with a client, I sort of feel... wrong.

I'm no longer filling a void. I'm no longer careless about an addiction that held power over me and others. I don't hate it, I simply don't love it anymore.

Everything comes back to Everett.

I didn't tell him how I felt when I woke up earlier this morning. He pulled me into his arms, gave me a kiss, nuzzling his face into my neck. I felt loved, appreciated, adored... I felt so many emotions I almost broke down in tears. Instead, I kept them to myself, and did something I hadn't thought I'd ever do- I reached over and grabbed his hand. We laced our fingers together, and he gave me a gentle squeeze, letting me know that it meant something to him.

We were both merely draped in a bed sheet, our legs tangled together. It was comforting but awkward at the same time. The only other time I've slept in the same bed as another guy was when I was sixteen, and he told me to leave before his mom woke. I hadn't a clue what to do this morning, to the point I couldn't even look over at Everett. That is, until he whispered, "What are your plans today?"

It was hard not to feel saddened by having to work, mainly for the sake that I wanted to spend the entire day wrapped in his body. After a few minutes he stood from the bed to pull his boxer briefs on, looking over at me with the same loving glance in his eye as last night- which comforted me to know that he wasn't regretting it. He asked if I wanted breakfast, and when I told him I did, he left the room to head into the kitchen.

We shared cereal, with promises from him that one day he'll learn how to cook real food. Apparently his mom and sister have taken real good care of him over the years. I almost asked him at that point how old he was, but I was nervous to tell him I'm only twenty.

I've lied a lot to him, and I already regret most of them.

Sliding on a dress over my lingerie, I make sure everything looks crisp and clean, then I glance over into the mirror. I look pretty... I even look sexy... yet I don't feel it. For the first time in a long time, my confidence has shifted. It didn't disappear, but rather it moved.

Either way, my job is mine, I chose this life, so I reach for my purse before racing out the door to meet Winston. I had to cancel the last time with him due to everything with Mr. Belvidere. He wants to meet every Saturday now. It's going to be hard, knowing that I'm going to want to spend Saturday nights with Everett, but with the amount of pay I can't refuse.

Tonight he said he wanted to take me out rather than stay in the bedroom, so basically I'm his arm trophy during a charity banquet for Alzheimer’s. It's not the first time I've done something like this, and I know it won't be the last, but normally that is what Bella is for. She has an exuberance unlike any other. She can make even the most uptight snob laugh at the strangest of things.

I don't have that, but I know when to smile, when to shake hands, when to be polite, and most importantly, I know that I'm strictly there to make Winston look like he can still score girls a third of his age with no problem. It's all about egos when you're rich. They gossip more than sixteen year old high school students.

He's waiting for me when I arrive outside Alamos, a coastal market. He stands outside his black SUV. When I step towards him, he lights up. "You look ravishing."