Complications
When I come out of the bathroom the next morning, freshly showered, Mrs. Smith is still in bed, hair tangled and naked beneath the sheets. She looks thoroughly satisfied. She should. We fucked all night, well past the two-hour initial agreement. I gave her everything she wanted and then some. What can I say? I take serious pride in a job well done.
She watches me saunter across the room. I drop the towel at the foot of the bed and step into my jeans.
“You’re amazing,” she says. Her eyes linger on my chest as I pull the T-shirt over my head.
“Thanks. I’m glad you enjoyed it. I had a great time.” I can’t help but feel sorry for her. She’s an attractive woman, trapped in a prison of social and political expectations. I see that a lot in my line of work—marriages based on status or money, devoid of feeling. It’s not my place to judge, though, so I shake off the pity. She’s an intelligent adult, and if she’s unhappy, it’s her own damn fault. I gave up trying to change people a long time ago. My job is to provide a service, not life coaching or counseling.
“Do you think we can do this again?” With the sheet clutched to her chest, she sits up.
I nod, happy to acquire another regular. “Sure. What did you have in mind?”
“The same time next week?” A flush creeps up her neck. “For the whole night?”
“Absolutely.” I open the calendar on my phone and set up a standing appointment. I’ll need to move a few things around, but the prospect of a thousand dollars for one night’s work is worth the hassle.
“Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?” Her tone is hopeful, but her shoulders tense.
“This isn’t a date. You don’t have to treat me like one.”
“Right.” The strain fades from her posture. “I don’t know why I said that.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been inside you. We shared something very intimate. Your body is teeming with endorphins and oxytocin that manipulate your emotions. It can get a little confusing.”
“You’re one of a kind, Romeo.” A smile returns to her lips.
“You got that right.” I wink, give her a peck on the cheek, and stare into her eyes. It adds a personal touch and warms the coldness of our business transaction. “Don’t get up. Stay in bed. Relax. I’ll show myself out.”
“Do you mind?” Another blush colors her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week.”
“Better get used to it. I went easy on you this time.” I laugh and grab my backpack as I go. “Take a warm bath and some ibuprofen. It’ll help.”
“Okay. I will.” She wraps her arms around her knees. With the first rays of dawn streaming through the windows, she looks younger, rejuvenated. “Romeo?”
I pause, hand on the doorknob. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” As I walk out the door, the sun is peeking over the horizon. A profound sense of emptiness fills my chest, the way it always does after a date. During sex, I disconnect from my emotions and concentrate on the physical sensations. Like I told her, the flood of chemicals that accompany sex can wreak havoc on a person if they aren’t careful. Developing feelings for a client would be a catastrophe. For my mental safety, I have to remain impartial and detached. I didn’t used to be that way, but now the coldness consumes me. I feel it licking at my heels, chasing my humanity like a rabid wolf. I’m scared for the boy I used to be and the heartless man I’m becoming.
I shove aside the discontent, focus on the growling engine of my sexy car and the horizon. By the colors of the sky, it’s going to be a beautiful day. I scroll through a mental checklist of tasks to complete over the next twelve hours. The gym, manicure, haircut, tanning bed…the list is endless. But before anything, I need to schedule a few hours of sleep.
Back at my apartment, I dive into bed. I’m deep into dreamland when a thunderous knocking at the door sends my heart into my throat. The walls shake with the force of the pounding. I stagger out of bed, naked, and into the foyer. When I glance through the peephole, the face on the other side sends a shiver of dread up my spine. I open the door.
“Here.” Shonda shoves our daughter into my arms, oblivious to my nudity, and drops the diaper bag at my bare feet. In spite of my irritation, I smile at the round, pink face of my daughter Madison staring back at me from the bundle of blankets.
“What are you doing?” The words are barely out of my mouth when Shonda spins on her heels and marches down the hall. I call after her, the baby balanced in the crook of my arm. “It’s only Tuesday. I don’t have her until next week.”
“Well, you’ve got her now.” Shonda stabs the elevator button. I pad after her, my bare ass on display for the world to see.
“You can’t just drop her here. I’ve got shit going on tonight. You can’t keep doing this.” We stare at each other. Animosity thickens the air between us. We’re two strangers bound by the common bond of a child. Shonda is the reason I don’t have sex with non-paying women. A one-night stand after a night of clubbing and a defective condom has tied me to a woman I can’t stand for eternity.
Don’t get me wrong. I love this baby girl more than my own life. She’s the one good thing I’ve created. But Shonda has a habit of dropping Maddie on my doorstep then disappearing for days at a time. I have no idea where she goes or what she does. The haggard circles beneath her eyes and the way her clothing hangs on her skeletal frame suggest she’s on a downward spiral—again.
“I can’t take it anymore.” Shonda’s voice shakes. “I need a break.”
I draw in a deep breath and try to remain calm. “I get it. I’m happy to watch her, but you can’t just dump her on me without a little advance notice. When are you coming back?”
Shonda’s brown eyes wander around the hall, disconnected and hazy, avoiding my gaze. “Tomorrow. I just need a little time to get my head together.” She runs a frail hand through the disheveled mess of her hair. “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Okay. What time?” I bounce Maddie in my arms to ease the frown on my chubby face.
The elevator doors open. Shonda steps inside.
“What time will you pick her up?”
“Tomorrow,” she says with a vague wave of her hand.
The elevator doors shut, and I’m left standing naked in the hallway with a nine-month-old baby in my arms. After I return to my apartment, I do what any self-respecting man does when faced with an insurmountable problem. I call my mom.
Family Matters
Maddie snuffles against my neck. I take her to the sofa where we cuddle for the next thirty minutes. I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but she’s wide awake, her frown replaced by a wide smile. Her chubby feet kick against my belly. I blow raspberries on the bottom of her foot. She shrieks with delight.
These are the moments I cherish the most in my life, the ones with my baby girl, just the two of us. Even before the paternity test, there was no denying she’s my kid. Thick, wavy black hair covers the top of her round head, and brown eyes follow my every move. By the length of her body and legs, she’s going to be tall like me.
“Dadadadada,” she says.
“What was that?” My heart jumps. I lift her to stand on my legs, bracing her beneath the armpits. She bobbles up and down, bending at the knees like a drunken party girl in a nightclub.
“Dadadada,” she replies, and it’s the best damn day of my life.
Overwhelming love swells inside my chest until my ribs creak. I pepper kisses on her forehead and nose. Her fat fingers latch onto the leather necklace tied around my neck and yank as she tries to shove it into her mouth.
“Daddy loves you, baby girl,” I tell her. “Don’t you ever forget that.”
After breakfast, we take a short nap then I give her a bath. She splashes water all over me, giggling at my funny faces. While I change clothes, she crawls over the floor of my bedroom with the speed of a rabbit. By the time I have on my jeans and a T-shirt, I’m sweaty and out of breath from chasing her. I hoist her up to my chest and head to the elevator. Thank goodness, my mom is available to babysit for a few hours.
Chloe loiters in the lobby. She’s wearing strappy sandals, faded jeans, and a halter top that shows off her gorgeous tits. Her eyes brighten at the sight of us.
“Oh, my goodness. Who is this? Is she yours? She’s adorable,” Chloe exclaims. Maddie extends a hand to Chloe then buries her face in my neck, overcome with shyness.
“Yeah, this is my daughter, Maddie.” I’m aware of the effect a guy with a baby has on a woman. Chloe’s not immune. Her full lips curve into a wide smile. For a second, I’m transfixed by the combination of her sun-kissed skin, white teeth, and long brown hair. “We’re going to run some errands.”
“Well, I won’t keep you then. Have a nice time.” She waves to Maddie, who curls and uncurls her fist in goodbye. My hand is on the door when Chloe calls after us. “Hey, um, if you’re not doing anything later, why don’t you stop by—both of you? I’m going to babysit for my niece tonight. She’s about Maddie’s age. We can hang out, watch TV while they play. I’m in 4B.”A hopeful note lilts her voice. She’s standing near the window, and a shaft of light illuminates undertones of gold and auburn in her hair.
I don’t have a lot of friends, none with children. Part of me wants to accept the offer. Another part of me recoils in fear. I can’t risk exposing my occupation to Chloe. Maddie gurgles and digs her fingers into my hair. Looking at her angelic face causes me to reconsider. Maybe I don’t need friends, but she does. All I want is for her to be happy. It’s the reason I fuck strange women for money, and the reason I’m desperate to have full custody of her.
“Okay. What time?” I disentangle the baby’s hand from my hair.
“Really? How about six? I’ll order a pizza or something.” A dimple deepens on the left side of her mouth.
“Sure. We’ll be there, but I’ll bring the pizza. See you then.” No matter how hard I try, I can’t pry my eyes away from Chloe’s lips, the way her tongue glides over them like she’s thirsty. With great self-control, I force my feet in the direction of the street.
* * *
From the kitchen of her house, Ma sweeps aside the curtains above the sink and frowns at my car parked in her driveway of her suburban home. She’s wearing yoga pants and a tight cropped T-shirt that shows off her flat belly. At forty-two, she’s too young to have a grandkid. Something she likes to remind me of at every opportunity. Smoke curls from the cigarette in her hand and floats around her head. She stubs it out in an overflowing ashtray. She knows I hate her smoking around Maddie.
“Where on God’s green earth did that come from?” She turns brown eyes, eyes identical to mine and Maddie’s, to greet me. I open my mouth to concoct a lie, but she waves a hand between us. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.” Her forehead furrows. “You’re not dealing drugs, are you?”
“No, Ma. Scout’s honor.” I hold up my hands, palms facing outward, and put on my best innocent face.
She shakes her head and shoves back the hair from my forehead, the same way she did when I was a boy. “Good. You’ve got a kid to think about.” As she speaks, she bends to smile at Maddie, safely strapped into the baby carrier on the kitchen table. Her granddaughter kicks her feet and coos. “Your daddy’s a dumb ass, sweet pea.” Maddie laughs.
“Traitor.” I take my daughter from the carrier and hold her up in front of me. Warmth swells inside me, like a bubble about to burst. She’s growing so fast. I drop a kiss on her nose. “Thanks for watching her, Ma. I’ll be back by four.”
“You better be.” Mom lights up another cigarette. “I’ve got a date tonight.”
“Who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know?”
“Gary from the bowling alley.” She lights another cigarette.
“Mom.” I scowl. “I don’t want Maddie around all that smoke.”
“Sorry. Back when you were a kid, no one cared about this stuff.” She sighs and carefully extinguishes the cigarette, which she will probably light up again as soon as I leave.
“Here’s a little something to get you by.” I set an envelope with four hundred dollars on the counter. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep her rent paid for another month.
“Thanks, babe.” She sweeps the envelope off the counter and into the drawer. “You know, as long as you’re passing out the cash, your sister could use a little help.”
“We’ve been over this a million times, Ma. I’m not giving her any money. She’ll just give it to her loser boyfriend.” It’s not that I don’t love Mona. I do. With all my heart. Her loser boyfriend, however, spends more time in jail than out. “You’re enabling her.”
“It’s not enabling. It’s unconditional love.” Her face puckers into an irritated pout. “You’ll understand once Maddie gets bigger. She’s going to make mistakes, but you won’t be able to turn your back on her.”
“Maddie isn’t going to date felons. She’s going to be a doctor or a lawyer or something fantastic, aren’t you, princess?” I tweak Maddie’s toes, delighting in her bubbling laughter. Although my tone is lighthearted, I’ve never been more serious about anything. My girl deserves the best life has to offer.
“There you go again with those crazy, pie-in-the-sky notions.” Ma shakes her head. She crosses her arms over her chest and stares out the window above the sink at the uninspiring view of the neighbor’s broken privacy fence. “Why can’t you be happy with what you’ve got instead of moving into the city, getting into Lord knows what kind of trouble?”
“I’m grateful for everything I’ve got. That doesn’t mean I can’t want better for my kid.” I bite my lower lip to keep from saying more. We’ve had this argument a dozen times, and it always ends in hurt feelings on both sides.
“I blame that university for putting foolish notions in your head. We’re a blue collar, working-class family. Your daddy was a garbage man, and your granddaddy worked in the factory for forty odd years. There’s no shame in hard work. The sooner you realize your place in the world, the better off you’ll be.” A note of despondence flattens her tone. I try not to blame her for being a pessimist. She never had the means or opportunity to leave this squalid neighborhood.
I tried a factory job and lasted exactly three days in the hot, dirty assembly line of an automotive parts supplier. “I don’t belong here, Ma. There’s more to life than Riverdale.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” The tight line of her lips signals that this conversation is over.
“And that’s my cue to leave.” I hand Maddie over to Ma. “I changed her right before we got here, and she’s already had breakfast, so she should be ready for a nap soon.”
“I’ve raised two kids on my own. We’ll be fine. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Her previous irritation melts away the second her granddaughter reaches for her.
I brush the hair from Maddie’s forehead and give her one last kiss. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Be good for Grammy, okay?”
“Go on. Get out of here.” Ma angles her face away from me and taps her cheek, signaling for a kiss.
Outside, I pause to scrutinize my childhood home. The eaves are filled with sprouting weeds. One of the windows has been boarded over instead of replaced, and the porch steps are broken. The peeling paint and overgrown yard contrast with the sleek, expensive shape of the Lexus parked in the driveaway. Someday, I’m going to have enough money to get my ma a nice house in a safe neighborhood. Even if I have to fuck all of Chicago to make it happen.
Special Delivery
At the top of the Belfast building, I enter the reception area of Armand Investments and pause to turn the brim of my baseball cap to the back. Pizza box in hand, I maneuver through the lobby and into the elevator. The scent of pepperoni and spices causes my mouth to water. My thoughts stray to Chloe. I forgot to ask what kind of pizza she likes for our playdate tonight. I’d call her, but I don’t have her number. I don’t know anything about her, really. The elevator dings and the doors slide open at the fifty-first floor.
“Delivery for Ms. Armand,” I tell the receptionist.
She leads me down a long, silent corridor. Her heels click on the cold marble floor. At the end of the hall, she knocks on heavy wood doors then pushes them open. Ms. Armand sits behind an enormous glass and steel desk. A wall of windows offers a panoramic view of the city behind her. It’s an unusually clear day. Lake Michigan is visible in the distance, its surface dotted with tiny sailboats and enormous freighters.
“I’ve got your pizza here,” I say. The receptionist hovers, but I keep my gaze trained on the woman behind the desk.
“That will be all, Mary.” Ms. Armand doesn’t look up from the computer screen. Her dark hair is slicked into an elegant twist at the nape of her neck. Sunlight illuminates a few red-gold strands, reminding me of Chloe. I push away her memory, determined to concentrate on my customer. Once the door closes behind the receptionist, Ms. Armand stands and straightens the waistband of her skirt. She’s tall and leggy. The lines of her suit emphasize large breasts and a tiny waist. Her blue eyes meet mine. A bolt of attraction zings straight to my dick. I love this freaking job.
“That’ll be fifteen dollars.” I hold the pizza out to her.
“You can set it there.” She nods to the coffee table and sofa beside us. “I’m sorry. I don’t seem to have any money. Could I put this on my tab?”
“That’s not gonna work.” I fight to stay in character. “What’re we going to do about this?” Her gaze never leaves mine. It’s full of heat.
“Maybe we can work something out.” She stalks toward me, putting an extra swing into her hips.
“I need my cash, lady.” Manicured fingers climb up the buttons on my shirt. She’s close enough that I can see the pulse flutter in her neck. Her perfume, floral and light, reminds me of the park down the street from my apartment building.
“Isn’t there some other way I can pay you?” She bats thick, black lashes and sweeps her tongue over her lower lip.
“You could let me fuck you.” I would never talk to a woman this way in real life, but the fantasy is a total turn-on. “Or you could suck my cock. Either one is fine with me.” To be fair, I feel guilty for charging a woman to give me a blow job, but some women are into it.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that.” She feigns shock, her red lips forming an O.
I grab her hands. “The way I see it, you don’t have a choice.” I shove her against the window. Her back thuds against the glass. “What’s your choice? Fucking or sucking?” I lean into her, pinning her wrists over her head, and draw the tip of my nose along the line of her jaw. The full curves of her breasts rise and fall between us. “I’m good either way.”
“Fucking.” The word is a groan torn from her lips.
“Fucking it is. Turn around. Palms on the window.” I run a hand up the inside of her thigh. She’s wearing stockings. My fingertips glide over garter straps before hitting pay dirt. The cotton panel of her panties is soaked. I twist a finger in the elastic and rip away the scrap of lace. Next, I grip her jaw in my hand, turning her face to the side, demanding her attention. “You’re going to be quiet while I take what you owe me. We wouldn’t want your employees to know what a bad girl you are. Not a peep, understand?”
She nods. I drag a finger over the slippery, drenched folds of her sex. Her body trembles. Using my knee as a wedge, I part her legs. The growl of my zipper fills the silence. My cock throbs at this exciting game. Damn, I love role play.
“Don’t move.” I pull away from her long enough to put on a condom. With one rough thrust, I penetrate her. We both moan. Her pussy clenches around me. I begin to move, sliding in and out of her. Our bodies slap together. She whimpers but doesn’t speak. I pretend she’s Chloe. That it’s Chloe I’m fucking in the middle of the day, high above Chicago.
“Ah, so good,” the woman mutters.
“Shut up. Did I say you can speak?” I warn her and slap her on the ass before doubling the pace. Is Chloe this tight, I wonder? Does she moan? The idea excites me even more. Hot fire races through my veins. My balls ache with the need to come. The shaft of my cock slips and slides through Ms. Armand’s wet channel.
“Yes. That’s good,” she says. Her voice is rough and broken. “Use me.”
“You’ll never try to cheat me again. Understand?” I fist a hand in her hair. She growls with pleasure.
“I do. I understand.” Her composure dissolves. I push into her hard, filling her with my hardness, and hold still, making her beg. “No, no. Please don’t stop.”
“You like it too much.” The pause gives me time to hold back what promises to be an epic orgasm.
“I know. I do. I’m a dirty whore.” Glassy blue eyes stare over her shoulder. Patches of pink color her cheeks. I pull out. She whimpers in dismay. “I promise to be good. Just don’t stop. Please.”
“I thought I told you to be quiet.” If anyone outside the office can hear us, I’m sure they’re shocked. The idea puts a grin on my face. She frowns, and I drop the smile. “Don’t look at me. Eyes front.”
I penetrate her with a commanding thrust. Her pussy quivers and tightens. We both sigh at the exquisite friction. She likes it dirty. So do I. This shared fantasy makes her one of my favorite customers. If I wasn’t a gigolo and she wasn’t a man-hater, I’d do her for free.
“I’m going to make you come now. And I don’t want to hear a single noise from your pretty mouth.” I grab her ass with both hands and pick up a new rhythm.
Pressure builds between us. She’s sopping wet. My thrusts are sloppy but controlled. My fingers tighten on the white flesh of her ass while I try to time my release with hers. Her legs begin to shake. I drive deeper, pounding the hell out of her. Our heaving breaths fill the room. She bites her lower lip to stay quiet and comes hard. The contractions of her pussy trigger my orgasm. I slam into her one last time, spilling my load into the rubber. The relief is instantaneous and welcome.
I brace a hand on the window above her shoulder. My knees are weak. It takes a few seconds before I can withdraw and stand upright. Ms. Armand drops to her knees. With a trembling hand, she pushes the hair back from her face then blows out a lungful of air.
“That was freaking amazing. You never disappoint me, Romeo.” Her smile illuminates her blue eyes. “Your money’s on the desk.” She nods toward the white envelope next to her computer.
“This was the best one yet. The pizza delivery was a great idea. I don’t know how you’ll top this.” I extend a hand to help her stand.
She pulls her skirt down over her hips. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes wild. I release her hand and go for the condom. While I dispose of the evidence, she moves to the connecting bathroom to clean up.
“Oh, I’ve got something interesting up my sleeve for next time.” She pops her head out of the door to give me a wink. “Don’t you worry. Just keep that enormous cock of yours at the ready.”
“I can hardly wait.” Of all my customers, she’s the one closest to my age. Fucking her is more pleasure than work. I almost—almost—feel guilty about taking her money. As I thumb through the envelope of twenty dollar bills, I change my mind. One hundred bucks for fifteen minutes of work. I grin back at her. My life rocks.
* * *
Don’t like cliffhangers? Then stop reading here. If you want more, then keep going.
* * *
Two hours later, I’m back at my apartment building, showered and shaved. Nervous perspiration coats my palms when I knock on Chloe’s door. I’m confident when working, but it’s been a long time since I met a woman for anything but sex. Not to mention the overwhelming guilt of fucking a client while picturing Chloe’s face. This chemical attraction has to end for both our sakes.
Maddie rests against my chest, her chubby arms tight about my neck. Her innocent touch brings me back to reality. I’m gonna eat some pizza, let Maddie socialize, and get the hell out.
My plan shatters when Chloe answers the door. For a blinding moment, I’m lost in her genuine warmth and unassuming smile. She’s wearing gray yoga pants and an oversized pink T-shirt with Princess spelled in sequins over the chest. I can see the outline of her bra. Her nipples point at me through the thin cotton. My dick twitches in appreciation while my self-control groans.
“I’m doing this for you, baby,” I murmur into Maddie’s hair. “It’s going to be a long night for daddy.”
RELEASE DAY 11/17/2020 – AVAILABLE FOR PREORDER