Rome

A woman never really experiences true pleasure when her thoughts are consumed by things other than her partner. The first orgasm was the hardest to coax from her, her mind still protesting—still warring with so many things.

New lover.

New life.

Guilt over the old.

My business can be many things. It can merely be playing the perfect platonic escort. It can be a casual and reliable fuck buddy. It can be a wicked interlude and occasionally—very occasionally—it’s much more. Carlene fits firmly into the much more category.

What I’m sharing with her is way outside the normal engagement.

When it comes to sex and bedroom antics—I’ve done it all. To the point I’m jaded, and thank Christ, I’m a good actor when I need to be.

Sure, for the most part, I enjoy what I do and it’s easy. There’s something very powerful about giving someone else pleasure. But that’s the thing. Usually, it’s someone else I’m giving the pleasure to. There isn’t normally much in it for me.

With Carlene, it’s different. I’m not acting. I feel something more than just the normal job satisfaction. I’m becoming invested in her. The emotional places we’re going in the bedroom, the way she responds to me, it’s the sort of experience that’s going to change her and shape her forever. And maybe me, too.

Carlene’s response to me is both a gift and a deep responsibility. On both accounts, I’m experienced and mature enough to realize just what I’m being given.

Every time we’ve been intimate, I’ve caught a glimpse at something deeper. At what makes her uniquely Carlene. I’ve glimpsed the sexy, passionate woman she could be. It’s the side to her which is so underdeveloped. The confident feminine goddess that every woman deserves to discover and embrace. She’s been deprived of that growth. I want to give it to her now.

I want to help her find and explore the woman living inside her who she doesn’t really know or understand just yet. She deserves that and so much more. Carlene deserves a man who appreciates not only her practical, down-to-earth nature but also the beautiful, softer woman she could be with the right man to encourage her. It’s changing me, too.

She’s the sort of woman who makes a man feel masterful and appreciated. Watching the surprise, then wonder slip across her face as she came that second then third time, are memories I’ll treasure forever.

Call it pride, male satisfaction—whatever. It doesn’t matter.

I’ve taken her to a place she’s never been. I’ve showed her something new, brought her immense pleasure and kept her safe not only physically but also emotionally.

Today, I love my job.

Today, I also hate it.

If I were a free man, Carlene is certainly a woman I’d pursue until she was mine. I’m not a free man, and I have no expectations a quality woman like Carlene will ever be mine. This job is hell on relationships. Sharing me with others isn’t something I would or could do to someone who means something to me.

When I started out, I always knew one day, I would be ready to commit to a relationship again. It isn’t the commitment that concerns me; commitment I can do. Hell, I’ve been committed to this job one hundred percent, for ten years, and right there is the reason I haven’t and won’t commit to a monogamous relationship with a special lady, at this stage. It wouldn’t be fair on her or me.

That’s the price I pay to play the escort.

It’s also a big reason why I took six months off. I needed to know where my head is at—whether I’m still cut out for the lifestyle, and to make some decisions about my future

I didn’t mean to come back to being in the game like this. I hadn’t said it, but in my mind, I’m teetering. Something I now realize, I hadn’t even admitted to myself.

The realization sends a wobble through me.

I left Carlene still sleeping, exhausted from an afternoon which stretched into an evening of salacious bedroom decadence. There’s so much I want to show her, experience with her.

I finish my morning fitness routine and feel much better. Exercise always has that effect on me. “Falling off the wagon” is a real danger when I’m with a woman on a 24x7 basis. I’ve pushed as much into the half hour as I can down in the hotel gym.

Instinct assures me Carlene won’t mind if I spend some time in the gym, I just don’t like to ask, more from habit than anything else. When I’m with a client, my time is theirs. Some like some distance. Carlene hasn’t asked for it yet. Until she does, I’ll try to be with her as much as possible.

When I return to the suite, she’s sitting up in bed scrolling through her phone.

“Morning, Oz. Did you sleep well?”

A slow smile slips across her lips, and a hint of blush rises into her cheeks. “Like you don’t know I slept like a log. You made sure of it.” Her words are strong even if her face is a little sheepish.

When she puts it like that, I kind of did. It wasn’t kind of at all, it was definitely.

“I did, and I think you should get used to that. Yesterday was just the beginning,” I joke with her playfully.

“Seems I’ve inadvertently found the natural cure for insomnia, a night with you.”

“Guaranteed to be better than any sleeping pill and all natural,” I agree with a smirk.

I pull off my shirt and head toward the bathroom. “I’m just going to shower. You’re welcome to join me, if you want.”

She eyes me with a surprised look.

“You want me to…”

“I’m heading to the shower. Shower sex is a lot of fun. If you want some, head on in. I’ll leave it up to you.”

I don’t make it to the bathroom door. Nor does Carlene get a chance to respond before my phone vibrates in my pocket. Very few people have this number. Roxie, my office manager and closest friend, is the one who mainly uses it. She knows better than to call me when I’m on an assignment, though.

I glance down at the key pad before sneaking a guilty look over at Carlene.

She immediately picks up on my unease. “Answer it. I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Rome…” she all but growls. “Answer the phone.”

I swipe across the screen and head out to the balcony to take the call, closing the glass door behind me.

“What’s up, Roxie?”

“I’m so glad you picked up. I don’t know what I would have done if it had gone to voicemail.” She sounds frantic.

“What’s the problem?” It has to be something major for her to be calling me, and Roxie is damned capable.

“It’s Jayden. He’s been arrested.”

“Fuck,” I spit at the news, and my temper rises in equal proportions to my concern. “Is prostitution the charge?”

“Yep.”

“What happened?”

“He took on a personal client. The client was an undercover cop. I don’t know much more.”

I huff out a breath. “Idiot. Greedy little shit.” There’s nothing stopping the guys from taking on other clients as long as they put all clients I introduce through my business, Perfect Gentlemen. The vast majority chose to stick strictly with the clients I provide. They can make a very good living, and I make sure the clients were all thoroughly assessed and screened before the guys met with them. My screening processes stop situations like this from happening.

In the ten years I’ve been operating, I can count the brushes we’ve had with the law on one hand. I run a clean show, and I have every intention of keeping it that way. My reputation is everything. It’s paramount women feel comfortable and can trust their identity and privacy is strictly guarded and assured.

“I know, I know.”

“Has he got a lawyer?” It’s time to move from the emotional to the practical.

“Not yet. He just called me.” No wonder, Roxie sounds stressed.

I have a good mind to let him sort his own shit out. It would serve him right. Problem is, Jayden’s a good kid, and I’ve recruited him to this game. That alone makes him my responsibility from where I sit.

“Call Patrick and have him sort it out.” Patrick is my very highly priced lawyer. It’s time for him to earn that retainer he keeps billing me each month.

“Okay. That’s what I thought you’d want me to do.” Then she hesitates, “I just wanted to make sure you were wanting to be involved.”

What she really means is she isn’t sure if I’m going to distance myself. The smart play would be to do exactly that. Abandoning people isn’t how I roll. I’ll try to protect the kid and, hopefully, my business in the process.

A glance at the bed and I see Carlene looking out at me, concern etched on her face. Fuck, I must be letting off vibes, everything isn’t cool. With a deep breath and a hell of a lot of mental force, I relax my shoulders and try to calm the storm Roxie’s news has delivered. I need to get back to her—fast.

“I won’t let him swing in the breeze, even if he got busted operating outside my business.” Then I have to ask the question I dread the answer to. “Has there been any media about this yet?”

“I’ve been checking, and so far, I haven’t found anything, but you know how the media loves a juicy story like this one.”

The media just love to sensationalize a story. Hang the expense to the people involved. I’d witnessed a friend of mine go through that a couple of years back.

“Keep an eye on it and keep me posted.” I groan inwardly at the thought of what is about to happen. My quiet assignment with Carlene is now more than likely going to be a juggling act.

“I’ll try not to bother you too much. I’ll text first.”

“Thanks. My client is not the demanding type, but that might change if she’s suddenly competing with my phone for my attention. She’s a really nice lady. I don’t want to do the wrong thing by her.”

A sexy whistle greets my ear. Roxie knows me well. I rarely offer an opinion on a client. It’s just easier to remain neutral and totally professional. “Sounds like she’s something.”

“She is.”

“Okay, I’ll let you get back to her.”

“Thanks, Roxie. And Anton is sitting at home on his butt. You’re likely to have your hands full with this, and me not being there. Why don’t you get him to give you a hand? It’s the least he can do seeing he’s the one keeping me from the office and leaving this all on your shoulders.”

“Will do, Rome. Now get back to your lady.”

My lady.

It’s a slip of the tongue, but why did it sound so right? Two things: Carlene is a lady, but she’s never going to be yours, Rome. The voice of logic in my head reminds me.

“Okay, thanks Rox. I’ll talk to you later.” I end the

call and glance back through the glass door to Carlene.

She looks gorgeous lazing on the bed. If you asked me what Carlene’s best feature is, I couldn’t tell you. It’s a combination of all of them. Not one in particular stood out more than another. From a looks perspective, she’s attractive in a wholesome, honest sort of way—nothing flashy, nothing fake. The sort of inner beauty that will last a lifetime because it’s real.

Her outward looks are just part of it. What makes her most attractive, in my opinion, is the genuineness of her personality. Oz is one hundred percent real, right through to the core. There’s no pretense about this woman, and it’s so refreshing from the circles I usually run in and the clients I interact with.

For about the hundredth time, I wonder why she’s doing this. Carlene could easily have a real man by her side doing all this for her.

Hell, guys I know not in the game would be falling all over themselves for the opportunity to be with her for real. Yet, here I am, the one enjoying everything about her and being paid to do it. For the first time ever, something feels very wrong about taking money for my time. This isn’t work. It’s something entirely different.

And now I have another problem besides my crazy conscience to deal with.

I really hope this thing with Jayden isn’t going to turn into a clusterfuck. I’d learned a long time ago, some things were often beyond my control and this, I fear, could be one of those things.

As I open the door and move inside, Carlene shoots me a look I can’t read, and I think I’m getting pretty good at reading what’s going through her head.

“Everything okay?”

“Fine,” I offer and try to keep any sign to the contrary from my voice. I head to the bathroom, returning to my original plan. As I reach the door, I throw over my shoulder, “Offer still stands.”

She nods once and says nothing, nor does she make any attempt to move from the bed. I have no idea what she’s thinking, and that worries me. To date, Oz has been totally upfront and straightforward.

Suddenly, I feel like there’s a wall between us. Not the easy companionship and sizzling hot sexual chemistry we’ve been enjoying.

And this is what I hate about extended assignments. Unlike in real life, when things get weird, you take a time out and give each other a little space for a few days. With an assignment, I have no choice but to keep going.

Carlene

Something’s up with Rome. I’ve spent enough time with him now, to know when things aren’t right. The way his back stiffened and his shoulders locked. The man is normally all easy, fluid grace. Watching him on the balcony while on the phone, is about as close to an impersonation of the Tin-Man as I ever think I’ll see.

Something is definitely up.

Whatever news he’s hearing isn’t good.

And this prompts my mind to start working…flashes of the call I received the night Phil passed careen through my mind. Has Rome received similar news? That leads my mind to start racing to other things.

Does Rome have a family?

Where does he live?

Who does he spend his time with?

God forbid, does he have a wife or girlfriend?

What do I really know about him?

I hear the shower start, and I briefly consider joining him. The idea of shower sex with Rome sounds fun for about two seconds before my mind clicks in. I don’t want to be a task he “has to do.” Does he feel this way about being intimate with me? I know it’s his job, but still…

Dread runs through me. Yes, it’s part of what he gets paid to do, but don’t escorts make a big deal out of it being two adults who want to take it further than just companionship? Regardless, I don’t want to feel like a chore. No woman wants to feel as she’s an effort for a man.

If this is the case, then no, just no.

I’d rather go without the intimacy if this is how it is to Rome. Does he feel like this or am I putting too much on it? I‘d be happy with just his company, I tell myself. I’d miss the most amazing sex of my life, but I’d regret it more if it is totally meaningless, because it’s more to me. His company is enough for me, or is that all acting too?

Suddenly, the magic of the last few days vanishes. As if the clock has struck midnight and the glass carriage has disappeared to leave me with a pumpkin.

The more I think, the more I doubt everything. The more self-conscious, the more I remember this isn’t real. I’ve inadvertently signed myself up to live the boyfriend fantasy experience for a couple of weeks. As a mature woman with two adult kids, I should have known better. It’s a timely reminder.

I’ve been getting swept up in all the “magic.”

I need to remember this is just make-believe. At the end of our time together, Rome will go on to do whatever it is he does, and I will head back home to Australia.

All that will remain between us are memories, and more than likely, mine will be fonder than his. I’ll just be another. I knew this from the outset, I remind myself.

Now I just need to remember it more than ever.