04

Truthfully, I hardly have to do anything but be in reasonable shape and stay clean. In exchange, I now have access to a collection of pre-approved, rich-as-fuck clients with completed background checks and STD results on record. It’s like a fucked-up dating service. Actually, no … That’s exactly what it is.

I got to set my own standards and limits, create my own menu of sorts filled with a shitload of acronyms and terms I had yet to memorize. Shit like DDP, Mish, RCG, CFS, GFE, and my personal favorite, BBBJTCNQNS.

For me, it was easy. I’d pretty much stick any part of anyone into any part of me. Going further than that is when I start to get uncomfortable. Everything outside of vanilla was on my « maybe » list, marking me as DDE – Doesn’t Do Extras. That seemed like a curse, but somehow, it didn’t disqualify me from the majority of the clients.

Oh, and the minimum price for my company was 300 dollars per hour.

Per. Hour. Fuck me.

Literally. I need the money.

Remy runs his business out of a hotel off the Strip. Tonight, there is a date party downstairs with a handful of men that requested accompaniment. He said that anything past the date is up to me and how much I’d like as a bonus for the evening. Secretly, I was hoping for more. A lot more.

I’ve had my a thing about fucking strangers since … Well, since Remy became my family. Something about the unfamiliarity, the nervous energy, the forbidden nature of it all … It makes me feel normal. Feeling normal makes me feel safe. And for some reason, that makes me hot.

One of the other girls let me borrow a floor-length gown for the evening, one that undoubtedly cost more than I would ever be willing to spend on a single garment. I should be sure not to get anything on it. Like cum. I need to grow up.

I carefully pull the second stocking up over my knee and settle it on my upper thigh. Slipping my feet into my one respectable pair of black heels, I feel tall, confident, and sexy as hell. I look at my reflection in the mirror.

Damn. I’d fuck me.

The expensive lingerie Remy bought me for the occasion is very flattering on my shape. My already tiny waist looks narrower, my tits are nearly up to my goddamn chin, and my ass is on full display. Not bad work for going to a party with the intention of getting laid by a stranger for money. The thought of getting to fuck something with a pulse again makes me smile.

« You look good, hon. »

I turn to find Remy standing in the doorway and shoot him an accusing look. « Were you watching me get ready ? »

« Yeah, » he answers as if it were obvious.

« Well, that’s not creepy at all, » I say. Taking the dress off the hanger, I slip the smooth material over my head carefully and shiver as it glides against my skin. « Make yourself useful and zip me up ? »

He chuckles as he walks over. « It’s funny you think I work for you. »

I roll my eyes. He’ll be using that joke from now on, I’m sure. « Why are you here, Remy ? »

« I wanted to wish you luck on your first day. » After he slides the zipper up my back, I turn around to look at him. « And I wanted to give you this, » he says as he pulls a velvet box from his pocket.

« What is this ? Are you Pretty Woman-ing me ? » I joke. When I open the box, it isn’t what I expected.

Inside sits a delicate, silver bracelet. It’s tarnished with damage on some of the links from the nervous gnawing phase of my oral fixation. In the middle hangs a tiny teddy bear with an even tinier blue stone in its belly. My chest aches at the sight.

« What the hell ? Did you have this the whole time ? » I ask him.

« You left it in Elliot’s room. I found it and took it with me, but forgot about it until now. » I look up at him and the bracelet and feel my brow beginning to tense. My heart wrenches in my chest. « You’ve come a long way, kid. Believe that, » he tells me. « I hoped this would be a little reminder of that. »

My eyes burn with the tears I can’t cry as I look at the dainty chain ; the fragile reminder of who I used to be, where I came from, and what happened. I swallow past the knot in my throat and nod rather than responding.

He takes the bracelet from the box and drapes it over my wrist, and carefully fastens the clasp. I stare at him and try to convince myself that lying to him is better than explaining the truth. He’ll kill me when he finds out. Or it will kill him. I wouldn’t survive either scenario.

« Thank you, Remy. » He smiles and pulls me into a hug, holding me gently in his huge arms. I hate myself.

♡♡♡

The party is a group of ten or so men, a handful of the other girls, and me. I wasted no time pairing up with the gentleman beside me.

We stand laughing with a group of his associates over a story from the men’s work. My new friend is a high-end real estate agent from LA, which explains how he knows Remy. He and a handful of his associates decided to live it up to the fullest in Sin City, as most people do. And to think they’ve only said « What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas » a mere eight times.

I want to die. After I get laid and paid, preferably.

Between the stress of Remy and the pressure of this new job, my skin crawls with anxiety. I want to fuck it all away, and I will. Soon.

I place my hand on my guy’s back, reminding him why I’m here. He’s cute, actually – his personality much more than his physical features. He’s what I would describe as average ; medium height, brown hair, brown eyes. There is nothing signature about him other than the lack of metal on his left hand.

Unlike his friends, he was the only one that wasn’t married, or at least the only one with enough decency to pretend he wasn’t. Part of me feels guilty for the wives at home – the part of me that still believes in love. The logical part of me realizes that has nothing to do with me.

The conversation dies down and the other men move to have a conversation elsewhere. « Would you like another drink ? » I ask my guy. He has a name. I can’t remember it.

« Or, » he starts, placing his hands gently on my waist as he faces me. His eyes shy away from my gaze. « I have a room upstairs. If you’d like to go there instead. »

His touch is almost timid as if he’s worried he’ll scare me off. I look at him and smile as my pussy aches to be touched. « That sounds great. »

♡♡♡

We go back upstairs to one of the rooms, and head inside. His was the mirror image of the one in which I got ready. Everything else is the same from the awful, patterned carpet to the expensive, modern art hanging on the walls.

He sits next to me and hands me a flute of expensive hotel champagne. I’m not old enough to drink, but I know I don’t look it. That’s also not the reason I won’t be drinking it. « Thank you, » I say. I smile as I pretend to take a sip. Time for the small talk, Mags. « So, how are you liking Vegas so far ? »

« It’s a wonderful place, » he answers. « Very fun. »

« You and your coworkers are from LA, right ? » He nods as he sips. « I’d love to live there one day. I’ve visited a few times and I always enjoyed it. »

He nods in agreement but says nothing else.

« It’s full of beautiful people. Great weather all year round, » I say dreamily, hoping he responds. He looks me over, quietly sipping his drink. « Sunshine. Beaches. » Come on, dude. Bite. This is really all I’ve got.

« You’re very beautiful, » he says finally.

I grin. « You’re very sweet, » I brush off his compliment. He’s shy when he’s not around his friends. I like them shy.

He brushes my hair behind my ear, and I look over at him. « Would it … be okay if I kissed you ? »

I’m not a huge fan of kissing, but I’ll make an exception for a mouth recently cleaned with alcohol. « Of course. »

He leans forward timidly, hesitating for a moment before he presses his lips gently against mine. He lingers for a moment before he coaxes my lips open with his, and gives me a proper kiss.

He’s pretty good, to be honest, but my body craves more. Much more. I pull my lips from his and he looks at me with heavy eyes. « Did you want to do anything else tonight ? » I ask him, exactly as I was coached.