Chapter 1
Rosalyn
With the evening I was having, I needed to see, no no, feel Ishmael desperately. I was praying the surprise he had for me included him playing with and eating my pussy from the back. Just the thought of his warm, thick, and long tongue sliding between my slippery folds had me squeezing my thighs together tightly as I tossed my phone back into my clutch.
My day had been going fairly well until I took an afternoon nap, during which I had a horrible nightmare. The same one had been plaguing me for months now. In the nightmare, I was running away from something or someone, but I could never see what or who it was. A part of me felt like it was my subconscious telling me that I was running from something greater, because the only other alternative was that I was running from something or someone that would hurt me from my past, and I wasn’t allowing myself to even think like that.
When I woke up from my nightmare, I took a little time to get my mind right before heading to see my client, Chris. This was the first time since we met that he invited me to his home. His very huge home. Tonight, Chris only wanted my companionship. Instead of sex, he requested conversation and movies before giving me a few gifts.
It hadn’t always been my plan to be a highly paid escort and owner of To The Highest Bidder Escort Services, but when I turned eighteen, this lifestyle became the quickest way for me to secure a bag. My mother taught me that a woman’s power was between her legs and a man’s power was in his wallet. She taught me that power of the exchange of stroking a man’s ego and sex for money. She taught me that money was the key to freedom, and if you had money – you had the ability to have or create anything and everything you wanted.
There was a difference between me and my mother though. She was a trick – allowing a pimp to prostitute her while she got hardly nothing in return. The bulk of what she profited went to him, and he’d give her what he felt she deserved. Because she was his bottom bitch, he fucked with her enough to set us up to live what I thought in my childhood was a lavish lifestyle.
But me?
My clients pay me for me. They know the value not just of my sex but my time, mind, and companionship as well. Most often, my clients seek me for a listening ear or arm candy. Very few want me for sex only, and that could also be because I deal with more older men than those my age. I only have about three men in my rotation that are in their thirties, and out of those, Chris and Ishmael are my favorites for different reasons.
Chris spoils me. He gets pleasure out of wining and dining me. His job takes up so much of his time that he doesn’t have much to give for dating. So when he’s lonely, he calls me up, and I happily offer myself to him.
Ishmael… Ishmael… I don’t even have the words for Ishmael. He scares me a little. Not because I don’t trust him with me, but because… he’s the only man that I’ve ever felt attached to. He… makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. I tell myself all the time that it’s just because he handles me in the way I like but my heart tries to convince me every time we are in his presence that it’s something more.
Doesn’t matter either way.
My commitment is to my business and my clients, and I’ve made it clear to Ishmael that I’m not the settling down type. Up until now, he’s been okay with that, and all I could do was pray that it stayed that way.
Usually, I only communicated with my clients through our app. There, they were able to schedule their time with me and make clear their intentions for our evening together. For the ones who enjoyed consistent conversation, there was an area for us to text and I had a Google number attached to the account for when they wanted to hear my voice. There was only one client that I had ever given my personal phone number to, and that was Ishmael.
He had this kind of hold over my mind to the point to where when we were talking, nothing else mattered. Take now for instance, Chris was sitting next to me giving me his undivided attention and expensive gifts, and I couldn’t wait to leave him to see Ishmael! Yes, he was about to bring me some cash, and I was using him to increase my income, but truthfully… I couldn’t wait to just… be in his presence.
“Is something on your mind?” Chris took my hand into his gently, pulling my attention back to him.
“No. Why do you ask?”
He smiled softly, lowering his eyes as those dimples caved. “Because I asked if you were hungry twice and you didn’t answer me.”
“Oh.” Chuckling nervously, I removed my hand from his grasp and used it to clutch his cheek. “I zoned out, Chris. No, I’m not hungry. I was actually getting ready to head out.”
Even though I’d broken eye contact, I couldn’t help but see out of the corner of my eye the disappointment that covered his face as his shoulders slumped when I stood. He’d paid for a four-hour block, and we were going on hour six. Had I not received that text from Ishmael I probably wouldn’t have cared, but I was anxious to see what my surprise was.
Chris stood and helped me carry the giftbags full of goodies that he’d gotten me. Out of the five gifts, the Pandora charm bracelet was my favorite. I didn’t share much about myself with my clients unless it benefited me. One of the things I’d shared with Chris was my love for charm bracelets. They were my way of locking in memories of my life over the years. Every five years, I got a new one.
My plan was to get a new one on my thirtieth birthday, in two years, but he’d given me a Moments Gold Clasp one early.
Out at my car, we put the gifts in my backseat. Chris opened the door for me, but I didn’t get in right away. He avoided my eyes, so I cupped his chin with my pointer and thumb finger gently and placed a kiss on his cheek. I never kissed my clients, so they loved when I kissed them on the cheek.
“Thank you for the gifts, Chris. I will cherish them forever.”
“And I hope I can cherish you forever.” I blushed – genuinely. Chris was super sweet. Sometimes a little too sweet. I know, I know. That might sound horrible, but it’s the truth. I like my men rough around the edges. With a little bite to them. Ones that are gentlemen that treat me with respect but will choke me and pull my hair during sex and tell me to shut my ass up when I get a little too disrespectful. “I don’t know what I would do if you settled down any time soon and got serious with someone else.”
That got a low chuckle out of me. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about.”
Settling down wasn’t even the last thing on my mind – it wasn’t on my mind at all. Rosalyn Kennedy was not the type to be tied down by a man, and there was no doubt in my mind that that would never change.
Although a major part of what made my business so successful was not catching feelings for my clients, I never hid my emotions from them. Men loved to have their egos rubbed. They liked knowing when they pleased you – in and out of the bedroom. Only a select few fed off a woman’s love and appreciation, using that as a sign to flip the switch and start playing her. For the most part, if you showed them appreciation, they did more of what you appreciated them for.
With that in mind, I made no effort to conceal my smile when Ishmael opened the door. I was genuinely happy to see him, and he deserved to know that. A low moan escaped his lips before Ishmael wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me into him. Settling into his warm embrace, I released a quiet sigh of my own as I melted against him. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a deep breath as I held onto him tightly.