Selling Satisfaction (25 page)

By the time we're in the truck, Brenna has had three glasses of wine and is feeling good. Her laughter is full of life, and the smile on her face is the realest I have ever seen. She reaches over and holds my hand once we're on the road. To my dismay it's a short drive home.

She looks over at me with a sweet grin on her face, a devilish glare in her incredibly fierce eyes. "I wanted to tell you more tonight," she admits. "But I think it can wait until this weekend. I don't want to ruin what you've given me tonight."

"What have I given you?"

"Happiness."

That one simple word takes me on a new high. I can't get Brenna in the house soon enough.

Pushing her against the bedroom wall once we're inside, I start kissing her with a need unlike any other. I pull her shirt over her head, tossing it away. I expose every single inch of her body, one article of clothing at a time, until she is wearing nothing but a smile.

Turning her body around, I push her against the wall once more, her ass graciously against my cock. I run my hands along her hips, across the front of her stomach, and up until I'm cupping her breasts. "You have a ridiculously incredible body," I whisper against her ear.

She moans in response. I love getting this from her.

Running one hand along her stomach once more, I reach down to between her legs, pressing my fingers against her clit. "Mm, you're already so wet for me."

"I am," she whimpers. Her ass pushes back towards me, bending her body perfectly for me.

"I'm going to fuck you, Brenna." She wiggles her ass, ready for me to put myself inside of her. "I want you to scream my name." She hums out another moan, ready for more than the teasing I'm giving her. "Are you ready for me, baby?"

"Yes, Everett. Oh my God, I’m so ready for you!"

"Fuck, it sounds amazing when you beg. Tell me what you want, Brenna, tell me what you need me to do."

"I need you to fuck me, Everett. Fuck me so good." The sound of her voice while she says that sends me into overdrive.

I press the edge of my dick against her pussy. It's dripping wet, and I can't even tease her any longer. I need to be inside of her. I need to screw Brenna. "God your pussy feels so good."

"Yeah?" she moans.

“You have no fucking idea.” I grit my words as I fuck her. Continuing to rub her clit, she moves her hips in a way that makes her feel even tighter around me.I know I'm not going to last long.

"Fuck," she cries out. "I'm going to come."

I drive into her harder, feeling as her pussy squeezes against me. She screams my name out, asking for it harder.

As quick as possible, I turn our bodies, making it so I can bend Brenna over the bed. I thrust hard into her, continuing the intensity of the sex we were having against the wall. Her ass curves perfectly, the skin bouncing as I pump in and out of her. I give it a slap, something I've never done, but she yells out for me to do it again, I have no hesitation.

Our bodies continue to collide fast and hard. When I know I'm going to come, I make sure to let her know. I ask her where she wants it, because fuck if I know if she's on birth control. I don't want to ruin the moment for either of us. To my surprise, she tells me to come on her ass, and I willingly do.

I can admit that I definitely enjoy it. Everything about tonight, because for the first time in my life I know what it means to own someone. Brenna is mine. She is mine and no one else’s. As I'm hers. And as long as she allows it, it'll be that way forever.

Once Brenna comes back out of the bathroom, cleaned from the mess we just made, she walks over to the bed where I'm lying down. There is a sway in her step- and with the way her hair is mused, her face is flushed, and her smile is spread, I know she is ready to fuck once more.

Except I don't want to fuck her again. This time... I want to make love.

So we do.

*~*~*

Jeff is sitting in my office
when I get in from my lunch break. A pile of papers on my desk. "How was your lunch?" he asks.

Placing my lunch container into the bottom drawer of my desk, I sit down in my seat to glance at the papers he placed there. "It was alright," I tell him. "What's all this?"

"Basically every interview up to date. I have less than five to go. How confident are you in getting to meet with at least one more of Ginger's ladies next week? Chief said he believes we can wrap this shit up in less than two weeks if we can get it together."

"I'll do my best to act like Chasity wasn't right for me. I won't connect with her the way I did with Mona. I'll see what can be worked out. I just don't want to get too suspicious, you know? How many dudes go in there and switch up the women?"

"Well, I could tell you at least six of the ones I interviewed."

"Really? Holy fuck. Well I guess it shouldn't be that hard."

"Hopefully it ain't hard when you're in the room with them." He chuckles at his pun.

"You sick bastard," I mock. "There is no way in hell any of those girls could get my shit hard." Especially after the night I had with Brenna, I think to myself.

"Probably a good thing. I heard chlamydia is on the rise again." Jeff chuckles once more as he stands up. "Don't worry about reading the interviews today. I know you got to get things in order for your night with Chasity. I'm sure sometime Thursday or Friday would be fine."

"Thanks man, have a good evening."

He wiggles his oversized gray eyebrows. "Not as well as yours I'm sure."

"Ha-ha, you're hilarious."

He grins while walking out of the office.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Brenna.

Hope you're having a good day. Sorry we both have to work late. :( Still on for a date night tomorrow night?

I shouldn't smile nearly as much as I do. Apparently neither of us know what to do without the other, because while lying in bed last night, cuddled together, I mentioned I wanted to take her on another date. My choosing, a complete surprise to her. She got all adorably shy, hiding her face under the sheet while she willingly accepted. When I asked her when, she said Wednesday night.

I'm nervous we're both falling into this shit too deep, too fast, but regardless to how terrifying it can be, I don't want to stop. I'm addicted to everything that makes Brenna who she is.

It's a whole lot better now ;) Yes tomorrow is on. Can't wait.

I set the phone done to focus on the paperwork from before my lunch break. It isn't easy, because now I'm wondering what she is doing. What she's thinking. The magnitude of her consumption is staggering.

She sends another message, this time a picture. It's a mirror image of herself dressed in black shorts, a red strapless shirt, and heels that add at least three inches to her height. The way her hair and makeup are done is breathtaking. That girl could wear a trash bag and still be gorgeous, but I take in the image for a few full seconds, knowing I'm the luckiest fucking guy that’s ever lived.

I save the image as my wallpaper.

What are you dressed so sexy for?

She messages me back a few minutes later with the response,
Didn't know I was dressed sexy.

And I think to myself, that maybe she doesn't know she is. Maybe she has dressed provocatively for so long that she doesn't even realize it. Maybe it's part of her past or something. I'm not quite sure.

Me:
You're always sexy. And beautiful. You're basically perfection...

B:
Have I told you you're clearly insane?

Me:
If you don't believe me, then you're the crazy one, lol.

B:
I gotta go, have a good evening.

Me:
You too, beautiful. See you tomorrow :)

B: <3

Shoving all my paperwork aside, I log into the computer and type in the name Konners to find any case file in Alabama. It was approximately twelve to thirteen years ago, so I continue to dig until I come across a cold case. Guy and Jane Konners comes up, but there isn't much on their file- a little more than what Brenna told me. I put in a request to access what isn't public, and to see evidence. I'll probably get shit from Chief, but I want to know the truth. Not for me, but for Brenna.

The remainder of my day at work is a mix of working hard and hardly working, as when I get deep into work, thoughts of Brenna invade, then I force myself to work twice as hard. I end up finishing right in time to clock out.

Chief stops me as I pass by his office. "Burke!"

I step in to see what he needs. "Yeah, Chief?"

"Got notification of your request. What is this case?"

"Someone I know. It was her parent's murder-suicide. She doesn't know many details of it, but she was the only witness to the events. I wanted to see what more I could dig up for her."

"It's a cold case and it's not in our jurisdiction. There isn't much you can do or provide."

"Maybe a few details for her. To me it was worth checking into."

He stares at me for a few seconds before giving me a curt nod. "I'll try to pull some strings."

"Thanks, sir. That is all I'm really asking."

"I'll keep you up to date."

I have to run home before meeting with Chasity. We're meeting at the Grand Parson's Hotel. She is going to rent room four-oh-four, and she’s supposed to be dressed nice but not like a prostitute, while also wearing a mask. When I told Ginger I wanted Chasity to wear a mask, I explained in limited detail that it was because I didn't want to see a face when I spoke with someone this time. She told me she didn't question my motive, so I kept it at that for the most part. I also said that Mona made me uncomfortable in her choice of clothes, so I'm glad whoever Chasity is, she isn't going to be as seductive.

Although I did enjoy speaking with Mona, she was a decent person, and I got some good information from her. I know I'm not going to get that lucky again. I just hope that this chick doesn't put the moves on me the way Mona did.

I change my clothes, leave anything behind that would suggest I'm a detective, then rush out the door with a sandwich in hand. Eating in the truck, I head towards the hotel, parking out back. I walk to the front and check into room four-oh-four. The hotel clerk gives me a shameful look when he passes me the key, which means he probably knows what Chasity is.

Standing outside the door, I tap my knuckles against the wood. I hear a sultry voice telling me it's open. I slide the key into the slot, and when the light turns green I push forward. Stepping into the room, I start to say something, but as I look over Chasity, I'm hit with a familiarity.

Black hair, wavy and splayed along the fabric of the bed. Red lipstick lining her thick, luscious lips. A red strapless shirt, with a curves piling over the top perfectly so. Black shorts that reveal long, tanned legs, which are curled at the knees. And although she wears a face mask, there isn't a doubt in my mind the eyes are hypnotic and green.

"Michael?" She asks, her voice filled with a desire... and I know this, because she had that same tone last night.

I clear my throat, trying to change the tone so I sound like a completely different person. I'm not sure if it works, but it wouldn’t be the first time I had to quickly change who I am during an investigation. "Yeah," I mutter. "Chasity?"

Her tongue flickers out to wet her lips before they lift into a smile. "Of course. Am I allowed to take off this mask now, or shall you continue to punish me?"

My heart pounds, but not like any time before now. This time it's full of rage and jealously and anger. I want to rip it off her face and ask her what the fuck she is doing, but I can't give up on the investigation.

And I can't forgive her, not for this.

The rampage inside of me continues to build with each passing second, and I know if I stay in this room, things won't end well. How the fuck can Brenna make love to me one night and the very next night meet someone in a hotel room to fuck?! Has this been her job all along?

It fucking hits me as if I’m slamming myself into a brick wall. Everything she's hinted towards, and said, and lied about. Her line of work, the odd hours, the money she makes. The fact that one of the John's I interviewed described Brenna down to the size of her fucking nipples. I've been so damn naive about it all, because I fell head over heels for the mysterious woman next door.

But I didn't fall in love with the woman I thought I did. No. I fell in love with a whore. A paid escort that fucks dudes of all ages for money.

She reaches up for her mask, holding it to her. I have less than three seconds to walk out before she discovers me. "Michael?" she asks, her voice sounding more like herself.

"Yeah," I say. "I'm still here."

"Oh. Okay. So mask, yes or no?"

"Leave it on," I tell her. Then I turn around and walk out, slamming the door behind me.

Less than ten minutes ago I was head over heels in love. Now I fucking loathe the lying, cheating bitch.

"Michael?" I ask for the
fourth time. "I'm taking off my mask if you don't say anything." When I count to three slowly and still don't get a response, I slide the mask off. No one is here. I climb from the bed to check the bathroom, then down the hallway, but no one is in sight.

Kandy did say it was prepaid, so I'm not going to stress it any. I wait around twenty minutes, while I pack up my stuff, then I head out of the hotel. On the way out, I stop by the front desk where Kevin is watching the small square TV he keeps stashed under his desk.

"That was fast," he jokes.

"Did the guy... leave?"

He nods his head. "Oh yeah. I'm pretty sure I heard tires squeal when he took off down the road, too."

"Really? That's a new one." I can joke with Kevin about it all. He is a year younger than me, and started working here about six months ago. It isn't one of my more popular hotels, but when I know Kevin is working I try to have Kandy reserve a spot here, that is if the client doesn't have a preference.

Kevin was straight forward asking me a week on the job if I was a prostitute. I explained that I wasn't, I was an escort, because I didn't have to stand at a trashy corner, I make more money, and I don't
have to
have sex to get paid. He was enthralled with it- and a month later he paid me for my services. It was fun to teach him a few things, but it was a one-time thing for the two of us.

Now we make jokes, then we make bets on the basketball games, since he is a Lakers fan- and I enjoy immensely teasing him. Maybe I could consider Kevin an acquaintance, there was always something fun about him.

So I stand around for almost an hour while we discuss life a little bit.

I don't bother telling him about Everett though. I don't tell him I'm getting done with this escort life either. Instead we mainly talk about his family, and how they hate him for moving to Florida rather than living in their church-ridden town in Noble, Maine. He grew up Catholic in a town with less than a thousand people, and didn't even know what a blow job was until he was seventeen. Now he knows a lot- but his parents hate him for his freedom.

Maybe that is why we connected from the beginning. We both grew up in a world we didn't belong in, and felt unloved for a good portion of our teenage years.

Finally I say goodbye to Kevin, feeling bittersweet that we aren't going to have our random bouts of conversations. Maybe I'll still stop in from time to time, all depending on the severity of the investigation, and if I do get taken down or not.

When I arrive home Everett's truck is already there. I get a feeling of joy inside of me. He's become my obsession, and I'm becoming desperate to get a fix all too often. Opening up to him last night was a great experience, I'd like to think for the both of us. I wanted to tell him more, I wanted to tell him about my job, but when I was laughing and feeling the happiness take over, I decided I'd wait until sometime later to mention it to him. Preferably once I'm done. So I'll finish out my last two clients this week, then I'll tell Everett everything.

I just hope it's not too late. I hope he can forgive me. I need him to forgive me, to understand me... to love me.

After checking my mail, I walk down the hall to where Everett's condo is. I knock on the door twice, but I'm still left waiting in the hall. I think I hear something move around in his unit, but no one answers. Remembering last time he was out back with Emily- and although I know his sister isn't currently visiting- I decide to look out back. Maybe he is on the beach.

Except, he's not.

My joy disintegrates ever so much. Maybe he is still at work and caught a ride with someone or something. I'm not quite sure, but apparently he isn't home. Heading up my own place, I pour myself a glass of wine, then I pick up Snuggles and head into the living room.

I don't sit on my couch much. If I want to watch TV I do in my room, if I want to eat I eat in the kitchen, if I want to sleep or nap or relax, I have a bed or bath for those things. As I sit on my couch, I realize it's been a long time since I've been in my living room, unlike most people. Isn't that one of the most popular places for one single person to be is in their living room? Or family room? Or Den? Whatever they want to call it. I'm not normal, I don't live a normal life.

Since meeting Everett though, I want to.

I should hate how much he's made me want to change, but I think the reason I don't hate it is because he isn't forcing me to change, or even asking me to, he's simply bringing out the better half of me. A side I hardly knew existed.

Petting Snuggles, I look down at her purring against my leg. "This is nice, isn't it?" I ask, but of course I don't get a response. "This is nice," I whisper to myself.

Glancing around the room, filled with art from all over the world, and vases I once started to collect until I realized I didn't have room for them, and the random artifacts I've picked up over the last few years. They're beautiful, there is no doubt, but they have no life in my large room. I have this large home with empty space and useless decorations. It's actually quite depressing.

Zeroing in on the only thing I actually have a connection with, I look at the eyes of a mother who I believe loved me unconditionally. Why my father did what he did, I'll probably never know, but it hurts. Not so much the fact it was in the early morning of my birthday, or the fact it left with me a future that no child should have to endure, but because he was selfish in his act. What would be his reasoning behind something so cruel?

She was a beautiful woman. My childhood is blurred, I don't remember much of it, but I do have some memories that have yet to fade. Memories I hope to forever cherish. More with my mom, but some with my dad as well. My favorite being a day at the beach, which was a large reason I wanted to live on the coast. I remember the fun, and the beauty, and the feeling of the sun kissing my skin.

I hope she is looking down on me with a sense of pride. I'm sure I'm not who she imagined I'd turn out to be, she probably assumed I'd marry a high school sweetheart, live in the heart of the country, and grow to be a mother of at least two. It's not surprising I didn't turn out to be
that
woman, but I'm hoping that she sees the strength and endurance I have inside of me. The love I am learning to give. The hope I've always held onto. The independence I've learned to have at a young age. I want her to see the changes I'm planning on making, and the person I am deep within. I hope she can be happy with me.

Snuggles hops off the couch and runs towards the spare room where her litter box is. I look around the living room once more before getting off the couch myself. It's been a long time since I've self-loathed over my parents, and I need to wash away the feeling of depression. I
want
to be happy.

Relaxing in the bathtub, glass
of wine to the side, I reach for my phone to type out a message to Everett.

Saw your truck here. I got off work early, tried to stop in, but I don't think you were home.

It's been an hour since I knocked at his door, so maybe whatever he was doing, he is finished, and after my bath we can hang out. Except... twenty minutes later I still don't receive a return message. So I try again.

Everything alright? Still working?

By the time I'm finished with my bath I still have nothing from him. A ball in my chest makes it hard to breathe, but I try. I can feel an anxiousness swarming inside of me, wanting to figure out why he is ignoring me. If he is ignoring me, or if my mind is going to places it shouldn't.

When I crawl into bed after a quick snack, I still have nothing back. I send one more message.

Well, I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow night :) Sweet dreams...

Waking the following morning, I'm left with one single message.

Something came up. I can't hang tonight, sorry.

My eyes instantly fill with tears. I don't stop them from falling though. I hope it's nothing too serious. My first thought is Emily- and I pray her and her baby are alright. After a few minutes, I google places that deliver flowers. Calling a local florist, I ask for her to deliver a bouquet of yellow roses to Everett. It may be super corny, and he'll probably tease me for it, but if there is something serious going on in his life, I want him to feel better. Even if it's with a silly gesture.

I climb from bed to make some food, Snuggles running around my feet because she, too, wants to eat.

*~*~*

Wednesday I decided that I
needed vitamin D therapy- so I went outside to lay out in the sun, listening to music that relaxes me, that helps me breathe. I ended up getting lost in a book I found on my Kindle app, something I haven't done in such a long time.

By the end of the night, I hadn't heard anything more. I ate a lonely dinner in my bed, while watching a sappy romance movie, resting my head on a tear soaked pillow.

Thursday I had to accompany a client to a luncheon with his business associates and their trophy wives. It was decent, it kept me busy, but I couldn't help feeling a bit under the weather as I watched other couples kiss or hold hands. Not hearing from Everett really started taking a toll on me by the time the two hours were up.

Later in the day I relaxed in the tub, then went to the movies by myself to catch a comedy- since my three text messages of the day to Everett went unanswered.

While attempting to doze off to sleep, with tears streaming down my face once more, I decided that I no longer was going to put in an effort to get ahold of him. I made sure to tell him in the last message that I was hurt, and hoped everything was alright. I made sure to mention I was concerned, but also that my heart was breaking over the fact he couldn't message me back.

This. This is why I never wanted a relationship. This is why I never wanted to change for a man. Because it hurts unlike anything else. My confidence is gone, my determination is minimal, my attitude is poor. My life feels like it's teetering on a cliff, and there is no way to go but down.

I haven't seen his truck home, so my assumption is he's gone somewhere. I keep that hope held close to me, but each passing hour makes it harder.

Friday morning I got up and went for a quick jog, then relaxed on the beach once more. It wasn't as soothing as Wednesday, but it did help.

Friday night I met with Winston for a final time, and he paid me three times the amount he was supposed to. I wasn't sure if it was as a condolence for my walking away from the agency- at least that is what he was told- or if it was because I hate fucked him. My aggression had little to do with him, and everything to do with Everett.

Finally Saturday comes around, and I'm so thankful for this afternoon, as I can finally see Hillarie. I can vent and cry, and ask questions, and get advice. Then we can talk about her, and figure her life out, and maybe the two of us can change our future together. We can be happy once more.

Despite my tribulation, I muster up the inner strength to get dressed nicely, in a white summer dress that falls mid-thigh and wedged heels. I keep my hair down, my makeup minimal, adding a thick layer of pink lip gloss. Once I slide my sunglasses on my face and grab my purse, I make sure I have everything I need. Before leaving, I also grab my bag of trash to bring to the dumpster.

His truck is out here today, and I glare at as I walk past. A part of me wants to run inside to see if I can catch him, but since I told myself I no longer would put in an effort, at least not without hearing from him. I continue past. I toss the trash into the dumpster before heading to my car, but as I go to close the lid I spot something out of the corner of my eye. Bringing the lid up again, I can feel anger build inside of me. A large bouquet of yellow roses, wrapped in pink and green tissue paper is thrown inside with all the other trash bags. It isn't coincidence. Those are what I ordered for Everett, and he obviously received them- and he certainly didn't give a fuck.

I try desperately to think back on anything I did wrong, but I can't think of one single thing. Until I remember our dinner. I opened up to him, I told him my past, I told him I wasn't a decent person. I also mentioned I wanted a different job, which meant not getting paid as much. Something about that dinner changed us. It changed his mind on what he thought about me. Regardless to whatever the reasoning is, I hate him right now. So damn much.

Slamming my car down shut, I throw my purse into the passenger seat. Racing out of the parking lot, I make it to Donnie's Bar and Grill in record time. The parking lot is a little crowded, probably because they're a great sports bar and it's the weekend. I can't spot Hillarie's car anywhere, so I park near the entrance and wait.

After twenty minutes of overthinking everything with Everett, I decide to call Hillarie, but it goes straight to voicemail. "Hey, it's me. Call me back. Where are you? I need to know."

I try to call three more times over the next ten minutes, but each time it goes straight to voicemail.

Suddenly the feeling inside my stomach is no longer caused by a broken heart, but by the worrisome I have over Hillarie. I should have checked on her sometime between Monday and now, but I've been so consumed in my own self misery, it kind of took the back burner.