J A N U A R Y
Calendar Girl | Volume 1
It’s really simple. I needed money. A lot of money. One million dollars to be exact. The amount didn’t matter. All that mattered is that at the end of that price tag held my father’s life.
No money. No life.
The time limit was one year. On January 1st I had to pay up or my Father was going to be killed.
When you’re faced with an ultimatum like this, you do whatever you have to do.
And that’s exactly what I did.
The job…Exquisite Escorts. My role, serve as high priced arm candy to anyone that can afford the $100,000 price tag for a month of my company. Sex is optional (for me) and a 20% increase on the price.
So why don’t you tell me a little bit about why I’m here,” I asked as I exited the closet and sat on the bed. Wes was a tall, large man but not beefy. He was over six feet and trim. Had the body of a strong swimmer who definitely spent some serious time in the gym lifting weights.
He took a breath and brought his hand up to his chin resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. “My mother,” he said, as if that explained all the secrets of the universe. I crooked an eyebrow, and he shook his head. “I have these events I need to attend professionally and personally over the next few weeks. Having a woman on my arm would help ward off the socialites and gold-diggers that often vie for my attention, preventing me from getting the networking I need to do completed.”
“So you need a buffer to ward off the vultures?” I chuckled, crossed my legs then pulled off one long boot, stretched out my other leg and repeated the process. Wes nodded then watched with rapt attention as I pointed and wiggled my socked toes. I looked down and realized why he was holding his hand over his mouth, a veiled attempt to hold back his laughter.
I had on my Christmas socks under my boots. Tall to the knee green and red stripped socks stared back at me proving I’d just committed fashion suicide. Not to mention, I was certain I’d just broken one of Millie’s escort rules by wearing the hideously ugly socks. I bit my lip and chanced a glance at Wes, but he just continued to smile the cat-that-ate-the-canary type grin.
Rolling my eyes, I huffed, “I got ready in the dark.”
“Obviously,” he laughed. “I think it’s cute.”
“Cute? That’s like the kiss of death.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think I’m cute? Well, no refunds, buddy. You said yourself, I’m here for twenty-four days. No take-backs!” I stood and put my hands on my hips.
He leaned back and crossed his bare feet at the ankle. Oh, I hadn’t noticed his feet before. They were long, lean and perfectly groomed. Tiny bits of sand stuck to the tops of the upper arch at the top of his foot. That libido I’d kicked to the curb and stuck in a hidey-hole peeked out and was paying close attention to the finer details of the man before me. It wasn’t fair. Even his feet were sexy.
“Relax, Ms. Mia. I said your socks were cute, not you. You are quite possibly one of the most devastatingly beautiful women I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. I can’t wait to see you naked.” His lips twitched into a sultry grin, and his eyes smoldered.
I took a slow breath and stared as he stood up. Our gazes held, and it seemed like minutes passed by as we catalogued the others’ nuances. “Um, well, I’m glad you think I’m pretty enough to be here. Like I said, you’ve got me for the month and…wait...” Something he said just clicked. “Excuse me? You can’t wait to see me naked?” The words left my lips in a loose jumble. “That’s not included in the contract…“
“Oh, I’m well aware of what’s in the contract,” Wes said as he came over to me, slid a hand around my waist and plastered me against his body. I gasped as the steely ridge of a very large erection pressed into my belly. His gaze scanned my face, and he leaned closer, so close I could feel his breath puff against my heated lips. “If I get you naked, it will not be because I’m paying for it.” Wes’s lips touched the skin just behind my ear where he placed a gentle, whisper-light kiss. I stayed perfectly still, pleasure rocketing through every limb, each nerve focused, waiting for his next touch. The rough edge of his stubbly chin slid along my smooth one sending shivers down my spine and a wave of heat to settle between my thighs. “You’ll drop your clothes for me when you’re ready. I won’t even have to ask,” he whispered before pressing a small kiss to just the edge of my lips.
He pulled back, his green eyes swirling with restrained lust. “I have work to do in my office. Feel free to look around, sunbathe, use the pool. I’ll need you ready and wearing a cocktail dress at five sharp. We have a business dinner to attend,” and with one last squeeze to my hip, he turned and left. The skin of my hip still felt the phantom imprint of his touch.
“Damn,” I said, lightheaded after holding my breath for so long. Once his lips touched down behind my ear, I’d lost the ability to breathe. “He’s going to be trouble.”