And if I’m being totally honest with myself, the sooner I can get this done and the money in the bank, the better. I don’t want to spend days waiting for the date, letting my nerves build up, my mind filling with whatifs and worst case scenarios.
Better to rip off the bandage, so to speak, and get right down to the nitty gritty of escorting. “Yes. I’m more than happy to work tonight. And I assure you—I’m a quick learner.”
“Then we have ourselves a deal.” She stands from her seat and I follow suit, taking the perfectly-manicured hand she offers me and shake it. “His car will be waiting outside of your apartment to pick you up at eight o’clock and bring you to the hotel, Vegas, Baby. Sam will go over everything else with you and get all the information we need.”
Sam claps her hands. “Okay. Paperwork time. Follow me.”
I walk back down the hall behind her, rolling my hips like she does. Hey—I think I’m getting the hang of this. I wobble a bit and have to grab onto the wall for support. Thankfully, she doesn’t see. Okay, maybe regular walking.
I take the seat she offers me beside her, behind the front desk. She goes to her file drawer, flipping through tabs and pulling out sheets with her long red nail. “Let’s see, we’ll need one of these, and these, and these.”
I’m impressed. This operation is legit. Wait…is this legit? Is escorting even legal? Before I can get too far down the worry hole, she’s passing me page after page.
“Fill out this background check form, this is the one to put your bank info on so we can deposit your payment, and then we have the all-important confidentiality form for you to sign. It’s a lot, I know, but we’ve got to push you through fast. Your date is in,” she checks the clock on the wall, “like five hours.”
I sign my name, Emmeline Arlington, over and over.
When she’s got the papers neatly stacked, she sets them aside, resting her hands on the desk. “Now, this is going to get a little invasive but let's talk about birth control, and we need to get you to the lab for rapid testing. We make sure all our clients and employees are safe.”
I’m a little uncomfortable, but we talk through it and I’m taken in the back for a few screenings and some blood work. For some reason, it isn’t until I see the little vial of blood with a label and my name on it that this starts feeling...real.
Everything looks good and she gives me the greenlight to work.
That out of the way, she brings me back to the desk, sitting me down. “Time to talk logistics…Sugar Daddies and what they need.”
Sugar Daddies—men who have a little extra cash on hand and are seeing a younger woman. I need money, and I have youth. An even exchange. No problem. “Yes. I’m familiar with the term.”
She raises a brow. “But are you familiar with our brand of sugar daddies?”
Is this like a business term they use? What’s on brand when it comes to an escort service? “I—I’m not sure what you mean.”
She looks at me point blank. “I mean we offer services to men who want their woman to call them daddy. They’re...daddies.”
She lets her words settle over me, her gaze never leaving my face.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
Heat rises in my cheeks. My throat tightens, but I swallow back my nerves.
I’m doing this, and I’m going to rock it. But could we have had this conversation before I signed my John Hancock thirty-nine times? She must tell I’m uncomfortable, because she quickly shows concern.
“Do you need a moment? Do you mean to tell me that Lexi didn’t even give you a warning?”
I run the tip of my tongue over my lip, letting my brows lift slightly. I laugh it off, but to my own ears I sound a little deranged. Sam jumps.
“Of course,” I say, waving my hand so hard she flinches, my voice way too loud. “Haha, what man wouldn’t want to be called daddy?”
Bring it on. I’ll be the best damn babygirl this man has ever had.
Chapter 2
Rawley
I’m changing my ways, going from playboy to good boy. It’s been months since I’ve had sex.
I was tempted. I mean, I’m in Vegas, and gorgeous women are literally fucking everywhere. No one thought I could do it, but hell, I’m proud of myself. But damn, I’m starting to go a little crazy.
A man has needs.
Serious fucking needs.
But I’m not going back to my old ways. I refuse to pick up a girl, get a rocking night out of her, then never call her back. That’s the old Rawley.
But the new Rawley still has a cock.
A very lonely, very needy cock, unsatisfied with my fist and the shower.