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“I have a few women that subscribe, but most are just one-offs. Women who are looking to get their mojo back. I have a—we call it the stable. The boys who I recruit are wonderful and… energetic. Again, I know them all personally. They’re all very generous with their time and attention to the women.”
“So you hire guys to pleasure women,” Nick demands.
“Technically, I’m just the middle person, providing a safe and reliable service.”
“Reliable? You can guarantee that these guys will get a woman off?”
“If that’s what she wants. It’s the same with escorts. It’s all about the client’s pleasure and desires.”
“But some women…”
“All women have the ability to feel pleasure,” I say sharply. “It’s men who don’t take the time and effort, and who blame their lack of skills and compassion on the women. It’s been like that for generations.”
Cady looks over her shoulder, with a smile at my outburst.
“Enough about me. What would Google say about you?” she asks Nick.
“Me?” He puts a hand on his chest, feigning modesty he doesn’t have. “I’m nothing more than Nick Klaussen, three-time All-Star, catcher for the Cincinnati Reds, and owner of the best butt in baseball.” He looks over at her with a straight face. “It says that online. I didn’t make it up.”
Cady stops suddenly, causing me to grasp her hips so I don’t run into her. “Go ahead,” she instructs. “Let’s check it out.”
With a guffaw, Nick struts ahead of us.
I don’t know what Cady was worried about. She’s got both Nick and Dexter eating out of her hand even before we get to the restaurant.
She had me at hello.
23
Cady
Iexcuse myself as soon as we’re back in the condo after dinner. It’s a strange sensation not to have my phone or my laptop, like I’ve walked out of the house without my shoes.
But it’s somewhat freeing. It’s been years since I haven’t felt the need to be connected to work, to have my finger constantly on the pulse of things. To be ready to make decisions at a moment’s notice.
The only decision I have to make here is what cocktail I’ll try from the list.
I leave a lamp on for Max and burrow into my side of the bed. The bed is insanely comfortable, with cool, soft sheets and the mattress just the way I like it. The pillows are perfect, and the temperature is cool, with the fan spinning gently overhead.
I can hear the boys talking and laughing, the odd clink of glasses.
They may be older than me, but I think of them as boys. I’m sharing a bed with a boy and I have no idea what to expect.
I tell myself it’s the noises that keep me from sleeping, not the way the room seems to close in on me.
I don’t want to be alone.
I don’t want to be with anyone, but I’m… lonely. I am alone. I’m here in a beautiful place and I’ve barricaded myself in my room instead of having fun.
Not only my room—our room. Max will be in here with me soon.
I throw off the blanket and stalk to the balcony door, stepping out into the night air, the warmth kissing my skin after the cool air conditioning.
I can see the moon hanging low in the east, out of the corner of my eye. Sunsets are beautiful but there’s something about watching the moon rise to take its place in the sky. For six or seven hours, the moon reigns supreme in the sky as the sun sleeps, missing out on so much.
I’ve always been a night person.
I’ve shared beds with men before, but I’ve always known what to expect.
