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  "And the thigh highs?"

  His eyes traveled to the length of my stockinged leg. "Because the peeks of the lace just below your skirt—that's just where I want to nibble your inner thigh. And lingerie drives me a little crazy."

  "Good to know," I said, tucking it away for my mental file. "What about the shoes?"

  "I got them because they're slutty."

  I grinned. "They really are. Is that what you're into, Ben? Slutty girls?"

  "Just one," Ben said, mischief in his eyes. "C'mere."

  "I dunno if I can."

  His face fell. "Why not?"

  "Because these shoes are like walking on stilts that crush your toes. So you can either admire the view or—"

  "Kick them off and get over here."

  Stepping out of the contraptions, I sashayed over to him, appreciating the lust in his eyes before he pulled me into the warmth of his embrace. I practically crawled up his leg, excited by the feel of it between my thighs. But before I could attack him, Ben said, "There are condoms on the bedside table. If he asks your name, you don't give it. You can tell him it's Candy. Candy Kane. Or whatever. And see that door on the wall? It connects to the room next door. When this guy shows up, that's where I'm going to be. So if you change your mind, or if anything happens that you don't want to happen—even if you just get scared for a minute—you knock on the wall or call out and I'll bust in here before you can finish saying my name."

  Oh. Oh, wow. Whereas I was in total denial, he'd thought it all out. I hadn't allowed myself to really imagine what it might be like, but now that he was talking to me about the particulars…

  "You can't stay and watch, Ben?"

  His eyebrow went up. "Do you want me to watch?"

  "Would that be…I was going to say weird, but I guess this whole thing is weird. I guess you wouldn't really want to watch me fuck some guy, and given what you told me about Maureen sending you that picture—"

  "This is not that," Ben broke in. "This is nothing like that. This is something we're doing together. Your fantasy is now all tied up in mine. Seeing you this way, sharing this secret between us, it's a fucking rush. And knowing that you'd want me to watch you give yourself over to a dirty fantasy…that's beyond hot. It's just that it wasn't discussed with—"

  "The John? How'd you find him anyway?"

  Ben's eyes slid away. "You don't want to know the unsavory particulars."

  I did want to know about the particulars, but Ben's hands caressed my hips, rocking me a bit against his erection, and I writhed like I was giving him a personal lap dance. And just as our lips met in another kiss, there came a knock at the door.

  ~~~

  "Right here," Ben mouthed from the adjoining room before closing the door. When it clicked closed, I was faced with the reality of my situation. I was in a cheap hotel room, dressed like a slut, about to have sex with a stranger for money. And as I slipped the too-tight lucite shoes back on, I wondered what kind of guy would pay for sex? Not that I had any right to judge, since I was the kind of girl who wanted to get paid for it…

  Would it be some old guy? Heavy-set, bald—

  As the door swung open, I got an eye full of a guy who was neither old, nor heavy-set, nor bald. There stood a beautiful black man wearing a wool cap, shades, and a leather jacket. I stared at him, my mouth agape.

  Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

  Insta-lady-boner that was only made worse when he slowly removed his shades. "Dayuuuum, baby. You are hotter than advertised. You are smokin'."

  A puff of air escaped me and sent steam into the night as if to punctuate his point. But I just stood there, frozen on the spot, unable to make my tongue work.

  "I'm Lance." He pulled a folded C-note from his jacket pocket and held it up between two fingers. "Gonna let me in?"

  I was going to fall off my stilettos. That's what I was going to do. But I was also totally going to have sex with him. Because Ben had already worked me into a state, and now every cell in my body screamed for sex. Then screamed for more sex at the sight of the money.

  "Sure," I said, stepping back from the door.

  Smooth, really smooth, Becca.

  But then again, that was the beauty of this arrangement. I didn't have to be smooth or seductive, because everyone knew what was expected. Lance pressed the cash into my palm, nearly scorching me in the handoff. Then he kicked the snow from his boots, took his gloves, scarf and coat off, and put his keys on the bedside table.

  With distressingly little hesitation, he unzipped and wrapped his ebony hand around his dick. "A half-hour, right? Let's get on it. Come get a taste of my big black cock."

  My heart thudded in my chest, even as the college girl in me worried how that phrase played into racist stereotypes of hypersexuality—but that girl didn't exist inside this room. There was no place for anything but pure sexual instinct here. I was unmoored here of every limit, so I went down on my knees in a flash, crawling to close the space between us, dying a little when he pressed my cheek against his hardening erection.

  Cruelly, the stranger asked, "Or is cock-sucking extra?"

  Ruling out any entrepreneurial future, I shook my head. I slid my nails up his denim-clad thighs, licking down his six pack abs under his sweater, then sucking the head of his cock between my lips.

  I tasted salt and soap, smelled a manly cologne, and marveled at the way his tool pulsed and expanded, filling my mouth to bursting. As I flattened my tongue along the base of his admittedly big and beautiful cock, it hit me. My god, I was doing it. I was totally blowing some guy for money. He was a stranger; he hadn't even asked my name. This was about sex and nothing else. And the freedom of that—the feeling that I was as dirty as I could get—felt so good that it made me cream myself on the spot.

  He seemed to like it too. "Look at that cotton candy pink tongue of ours working my shaft. Suck it." Fisting my ponytail, which gave him a good grip, he thrust the length of himself into the back of my throat, triggering my gag reflex, which he didn't seem to care much about. Unnecessarily, he added, "Take it, Hooker."

  That kind of talk should have pissed me off. But in this situation, I loved it. He was a stranger, so his words couldn't hurt me on the inside. And Ben wouldn't let him hurt me on the outside. Which meant I didn't give a shit what this stranger said to me. But it made me shake with arousal.

  And it made me want to prove that I could do it. I let him fuck my mouth, concentrating on breathing, slurping as the shaft pumped in and out. And everything was sheer, red-hot, sexual bliss…

  …except that I wanted Ben to see me.

  I wanted him to see what a good cock-sucker I could be. I wanted him to see my ass wiggling while I got mouth-fucked. I wanted him here, touching me too, but I guess a girl can't have everything.

  Lance's breathing deepened. "I don't want to blow my wad in your mouth, so take that dress off and get your ass on the bed and show me the pretty pink pussy I paid for."

  My fingers were shaking so badly, I could scarcely work the zipper of my dress. I was in some kind of erotic daze. I managed to shimmy out of the dress, exposing my breasts and rock-hard nipples, then spread my silky thighs in my best Playboy Centerfold pose.

  He actually smiled a bit, losing some of that gruff exterior long enough to step between my legs and nudge them apart. Then he stared at my closely-shaven pussy. His dark fingers stroked me once, twice, spreading the wetness around. Then he grabbed for a condom from the bedside table and slid it on.

  So, he wasn't even going to undress. "Ready?" he asked, strong arms caging me in where I sprawled at the edge of the bed.

  "So ready," I admitted, grabbing his broad shoulders while he moved between my legs.

  Bang. That's how that first violent thrust felt.

  It hurt, I'm not going to lie. But it also nearly sent me right over the edge into orgasm. He had me filled up, the short and tight curls of his sex tangling with mine, his pubic bone grinding against my clit—and I was pretty sure he knew what he
was doing to me. But before I could lose myself to it, he rolled me over onto him, twisting so that his back was against the headboard and I was straddling him.

  I was naked. He was clothed. And the scratch of his zipper on my inner thigh made me gasp. Fully impaled, I put my palms flat to his espresso-colored belly, gasping again at the unexpected eroticism of the sight. He chuckled. "We look good together, don't we? Like milk and chocolate cookies."

  Milk and chocolate cookies?

  I thought this guy was tough…

  But before I got too comfortable, he growled. "It feels amazing to be buried balls deep in your hot little cunt. Do you like it?"

  "I fucking love it," I whispered. "And I want to get you off…"

  He rewarded me with a slap on the ass. "Then earn it."

  He wanted me to fuck him, and that was no problem, since my hips were already moving. I stroked up and down onto him, gripping him between my lace-covered thighs, feeling myself stretch and throb around him when he caught my nipple in his teeth, then mashed my breasts together with both hands.

  I rode him hard. Thrusting for all I was worth, getting my heart pumping, using muscles I hadn't discovered in Yoga class for sure. And while I did it, his hands squeezed my ass, and pulled my cheeks apart. His mouth trailed little bites on my breasts and shoulders. And as sweat began drip from between my breasts onto my belly, it was very clear he was holding back.

  Making me work for it.

  And embarrassingly, I was afraid I was going to come before I could give him what he paid for. The sounds I made must have clued him in, because he said, "You gonna squirm and squeeze on my dick when you come? Tell me you want to come on my big black cock."

  I couldn't say that. I wanted to say that. But…

  "I can't."

  "That's ok, because I paid for you to get me off. Not you."

  I swallowed back the humiliation, suddenly as pissed off as I was turned on. More determined now to just get him off and be done with it. But he held off, which ensured that it really did feel like work. I bounced up and down milking him, until finally he grabbed me hard by the hips and let out a bellow of pleasure.

  I got to see his face tighten at the same time I felt him twitch with release, flooding the rubber inside me. Gripping me like a sex toy until he was done. It was a few minutes before we could both catch our breath, but when we did, he said, "Thanks. Worth every penny."

  I smiled, not knowing what else to say. I wasn't exactly up on my prostitution etiquette. Was I supposed to compliment him or something? I shyly rolled off him, slipping under the sheets of the bed.

  Meanwhile, he sat up and reached for his wallet. "Here's a little extra for the cock-sucking," he said, dropping another bill on the bedside table.

  Then, he got up and dressed and left without another word.

  Chapter Five

  When Ben came back into the room, I was all but hiding beneath the sheet, wearing nothing but lace thigh high stockings.

  He looked edgy, a little pale as he sat at the end of the bed. "You okay?"

  I was not okay. I was…indescribable. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. I was ashamed. I was aroused. Mostly that. I'd been fucked perfunctorily, which is just what I wanted. I'd been treated like a toy. A commodity. A little fucking whore. And I wish I knew what was in my wiring that made me love it so goddamned much.

  But that was the psychological pleasure. The deep-seated fantasy, the reality of which now announced itself on the bedside table in two crisp bills. My body was still screaming for satisfaction. Trembling with it, actually. "I'm okay. Just really turned on…"

  I wasn't sure what I was going to see in Ben's eyes. In spite of the fact that he'd engineered this, I expected to see disgust or judgement. Instead I saw relief. "You're okay…" He breathed out a long breath. "I felt like a caged lion over there, pacing in front of the door, listening."

  "Could you hear—"

  "Everything. The bed thumping the wall. Everything. Yeah."

  I swallowed. "Did it freak you out?"

  Ben's eyes slid away again and my stomach did a somersault. I was pretty sure that this was where everything about this night was going to go really badly. So I braced myself.

  Ben swallowed, and flattened his palms on his knees. "Don't think this is weird, okay? But it actually excited me a lot. I dunno if it was the adrenaline of being jealous, or the fear I was going to have to bust things up, or the knowledge that you were actually doing it. But I'm kind of going out of my mind right now with wanting to take you and…I dunno. Plant my flag. I want to make you mine so badly that I'm afraid to look at you for fear I'm going to just snap."

  Thank God. I almost melted into the sheets as a surge of some very strong and strange emotion flooded me. I hadn't realized, until just this moment, how much I needed Ben to be okay with all this. Even though possessive talk from guys usually sent me running for the hills, I felt more honestly earned than by any guy I'd ever been with. And the realization forced me to be way more honest than I might otherwise have been. "You can look at me, Ben. You can snap if you want to. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you and wishing you were there in the room the whole time."

  He blew out another shaky breath and met my eyes. "Can I see?"

  "You can do anything you want," I said, meaning it more than the words could convey. So I let him peel back the sheet from my body.

  How strange it was that even though this was the first time he'd ever seen me completely undressed, I wasn't self-conscious. Everything in his body language said that he adored my breasts, my hips, my belly. No, it was the other things he'd seen in me that made me feel naked.

  He touched me with only his fingertips, feathering them down over my nipples until I hissed with pleasure. Then he stroked my legs, and back up between to the nexus that throbbed for his touch.

  "Spread your legs for me," he said.

  If he'd been on top of me, it wouldn't have been hard to do. But I knew what he wanted to see, and it ached to separate my knees and show him my freshly fucked cunt. "Mmm. Becca. You're so pink, and wet, and engorged…do you want me to take a picture of what your pussy looks like after it's been bought, paid for, and used?"

  I let out a helpless cry that wasn't an answer. Would I frame a picture like that or delete it? I couldn't have answered him. My entire body felt like it was on fire—from shame or arousal or both, it didn't matter. More than a little terror too. I couldn't even guess what he might think of me right now.

  I only knew that he'd done this to me—for me—and I wanted him more than I'd wanted anything. Every bit of attraction I'd felt for the guy who had already come and gone was now wrapped up in Ben. More than wrapped up in him. It was all about him.

  "Did it hurt?" he asked, using his thumb to smear some of the stickiness over my clit, which elicited a moan and a jerk of my hips against his hand. "Did it?"

  I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut because I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to answer questions. I just wanted to come and come and come. But he kept me hovering there on the edge. "Did you want it to hurt?"

  I gasped. "A little…"

  His touch became rougher. "I think I'm figuring out this kink…"

  "No more talking," I whispered, gripping the sheets, undulating under his hands. Then reached for his belt buckle, unclasping it, and yanking it free with a snap. Emboldened, I went next for his zipper. "Because I need to come. I need to. I know you wanted to wait until after we did this, but it's after! I want you. Enough to beg, even. Please?"

  "Should I count the years I've been waiting to hear that?"

  "No counting, either!"

  A slow and sexy smile brightened his expression. Then he reached for my cheek and brought his lips near. "Keep my mouth occupied then…"

  He kissed me. An amazing kiss for the way it melded white hot lust with some more tender emotion. I helped him pull off his sweater and tee, dying a little at his muscular arms, and the tattoo on his bicep that I hadn't noticed befor
e. I stroked it, loving the way goosebumps rose on his skin at my touch.

  He stripped off the rest of his clothes, then leaned back so I had ample room to see his gorgeous member spring free. Jutting up, it was thick, long, beautiful. Uncut. Different than the one I'd already serviced tonight, but just as riveting.

  I couldn't resist stroking the foreskin up and down the shaft and watching the little bubbles of lubricant reward my efforts. God, the things I wanted to do to him!

  For a moment, I couldn't decide which I wanted more—to take it in my mouth, or to have him inside me. But in the end, my greedy body won out. I rolled a condom down onto him and leaned back in eager invitation.

  Ben crawled over me, stooping to nip at the inside of my arm, all the way from my elbow to my shoulder. Each graze of his teeth was like an electric jolt through my body and I moved shamelessly, rubbing against him, using the lace of the thigh highs to tease and tickle. But just as he had himself positioned between my wide-spread legs, he stopped and said, "I don't think you were totally honest with me before."

  I put a finger to his lips. "Please…shhhhh…just…just fuck me."

  With a sparkle in his eye, he grabbed my wrist and pinned it to the headboard. "Not until you admit it."

  "You're torturing me. I'll admit anything!"

  He chuckled. "Admit the real reason you needed me to make this fantasy come true for you." The head of his cock nestled between my nether lips, the sensation of making me quiver. "Becca, you needed me to pimp you out. That's part of the kink, isn't it?"

  "I don't know!" I cried.

  Or maybe I said something else. I was incoherent with desire. I put my arm around his neck and tried to draw him down into me, but he was too strong. Holding me still, he bit the hollow at my throat and whispered, "Because you needed someone to know. You needed someone to know what you did to make it real."

  "Yes," I cried, a little sob that started in my throat but made my whole body shudder. "Or else I could pretend it never happened."

  "Oh, it happened," he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "And this is happening too…"