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Jessie laughed. “I gave Reid your email address for Elite to send over the forms. Personal info, limits…all that good stuff.”
I bit on my thumbnail, eyeing the pile of dishes in the sink.
Limits.
I wouldn’t even know what they were. I had fantasies out the yin-yang but had yet to meet a sampling from the smorgasbord of man-beef who was interested in learning what desires crowded my mind.
Exhibitionism. Rough sex that included just enough pain to arouse. Maybe a little chokehold. Tease the shit out of me, deny me a climax, make me beg for it…but some of the things I fantasized about weren’t exactly hookup safe. They needed to be in a relationship with a man I could trust.
I snorted. “Not happening.”
Or with a hired professional…
I’d never checked out any of the BDSM joints downtown even though I’d heard a rumor there was one owned by a woman named Chantelle that operated as an invite-only club. But I didn’t know anyone in the lifestyle, and I wasn’t sure that was exactly what I had in mind.
Was there such a thing as soft BDSM?
A few minutes later, I hung up the phone and eyed the sink full of dishes. I expected my entire house would be spotless before noon as I tried to make the time pass. The hours would probably stretch on for an eternity while my mind went overboard imagining the night ahead of me.
Elite Escort Jarod.
The memory of his full-length pic on the website flitted through my brain. Luscious-lipped, muscles rippling over his bare chest and down his torso…and I couldn’t forget the bulge in his boxer briefs.
My mouth watered, and I bit back a groan, closing my eyes briefly.
“God, I hope you’re all that and more,” I whispered to the image in my head.
The problem was, if Jarod lived up to my expectations, the available males I tended to land for a night of fun would fall way short of satisfying me rather than just the mediocre I’d been accepting.
Sighing, I pulled on rubber gloves and went to town, ready for the hours to pass as fast as possible.
I had a date with a hunk of burning sex on legs—and I kept my fingers crossed he would deliver.
Chapter 2
Jarod
I stared at the file emailed over from Dina at Elite Escorts.
Christine Gemberling was a friend of Reid and his girlfriend, Jessica. I’d been informed by Reid what he’d done to get Jessica’s number—and warned that Christine was my type. He had also suggested I would need to guard my heart.
But I didn’t have much of a heart to bother with. What remained of the vulnerable side of me had gotten locked up years earlier and would never see the light of day again. I always took care to make sure no one would threaten the safe environment I’d created for myself by controlling who had access to my inner sanctuary.
That included studying the profiles Dina sent me to better plan out the evening ahead. While I considered my night job an outlet for my wild side, I never entered into a situation unarmed emotionally.
The last-minute client assigned to me included a professional headshot of a green-eyed beauty with fiery red hair falling in waves over her shoulders. Her smile suggested playful. Perhaps untamed as a feral kitty. Definitely a flirt.
My cock began to swell at thoughts of watching her full lips clamping around my length and sucking me deep.
She’s fucking fine.
I cleared my throat and adjusted myself inside of my scrubs beneath the break room table. Ignoring the steak-tip salad I’d brought along for lunch in front of me, I flipped back to the specs for that night’s one-on-one date.
Twenty-nine, I noted, from the North Shore area, loves beer, football, and sex.
“Huh.” Brow furrowed, I reread that line. She was definitely my kind of woman if I had been looking for one.
As with every Elite customer I’d been booked with, I went through her paperwork, noting and memorizing what she did and didn’t want. What got her off. What turned her on. I enjoyed everything about women’s bodies and satisfying them, but I loved being in control of the situation just as much. The better to protect myself from heartache.