Her Calling (Emma Book 3) Page 3

  I won’t become a man-hater because of this, that’s for sure. There are enough of those out there. A Charles-hater, certainly, but not a man-hater.

  I head into the bedroom and start exploring the wardrobe for something to wear to meet Lucy. Casual is fine for this. I want to look like I mean business, not sex. I’ll go with jeans and a blouse. I select a stiff handbag too – one that I hope makes me look particularly grown-up.

  “Oh my God, Em!”

  I smile even before I turn around and see a wide-eyed Sarah standing in the doorway, and enormous grin on her face.

  “He was magnificent!” she says needlessly.

  “So I heard!” I tease as she walks over and wraps her arms around me.

  “You need to get back to work and get yourself some of what I just had, trust me! Or let me do you with a strap-on at least…”

  “Well, I am feeling a little more perky,” I admit. “Let’s see how I’m feeling later. I’m off to meet Lucy now. We have to talk things through, you know?”

  Sarah nods. “I’m glad. You need to see her. And give her a chance, okay? Don’t jump to any conclusions.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I reply, pulling my jeans on. “Do you have more lined up this afternoon?”

  “Three o’clock and four o’clock,” she winks. “God, Emma, why don’t all girls do this?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure, but let’s keep it our little secret, okay? Now don’t forget to have a shower, you professional minx!”

  “Emma, it’s so good to see you!” says Lucy, full of concern. She takes a seat opposite me.

  “Likewise,” I answer, trying not to sound too terse. “I ordered you a latte…”

  “You know me too well Miss Carling! Now, I must say, you don’t look bad at all. I guess you’re feeling a lot better?”

  She’s looking at me with the air of a woman who knows perfectly well that I haven’t been sick at all. I sigh inwardly. Damn, I forgot I’ve been telling her I’m unwell.

  “Well, you know…”

  I stop. I’m not sure I can even do this. I look around the room, noting that there’s nobody close enough to overhear us. I look back at Lucy, straight into her sharp eyes.

  “Not really,” she says, one side of her mouth curled into a little smile. “Help me out here. Did you have a bad experience?”

  Lucy’s not stupid, that’s for sure. Is she toying with me? I look into her eyes again, trying to figure out if she’s fishing for information she already knows. Is this sarcasm? I can detect nothing like that at all. Just her usual mix of professionalism and deep concern.

  It makes me well up a little. She takes my hand in hers.

  “Emma, it’s okay if you weren’t really sick, you know that. I don’t give a shit about that. Your welfare is everything to me.”

  I nod, sniffing back tears. How could I ever doubt her?

  Our coffees arrive – a cappuccino for me – and I take the chance to disengage and dab my eyes. I’m supposed to be staying strong today.

  “Sorry, I know, Lucy. I’ve just been struggling. I had a bad experience, yes.”

  I remember to watch her intently as I say it. I’m looking for some sign that she already knows what I’m talking about. In which case I’m still ready to stab her with a fork. But again, there’s nothing like that. Her face clouds over, but just in the way I’d expect.

  “Shit, really? Emma, I’m so sorry. Was it the young Brazilian guy? Wait no, it was that couple, wasn’t it? I know you were crazy about them…but they push you too far?”

  I shake my head, still scanning her eyes. She genuinely looks like someone who’s running out of ideas.

  “No,” I mumble, looking away. This is it. I’m going to have to say it. “That house I went to on Saturday. You know, the blindfold one.”

  She sits bold upright, and her face turns to thunder in an instant.

  “Tell me everything, Emma,” she orders. “This is serious. If those people have been – ”

  “Those people?”

  “I told you before, Emma, I was contacted by a variety of PA-type people for that job. They’re all part of the deal, as far as I’m concerned. I considered they guy himself to have been vetted, though, given his public profile and the assurances I got from my network.”

  “Oh,” I whisper.

  She’s the one looking at the person opposite her intently now. “Emma, I need you to share this with me. I have other girls booked to go there next week. If they’re not going to be safe…what did he do to you?”

  I take a sip of coffee, and I notice that my hand is shaking. I pause for a second and gather myself. Lucy’s expression changes to a sympathetic one, and she cocks her head to one side.

  “He didn’t do anything bad,” I begin. “Nothing I couldn’t handle, anyway. It’s who he is…”

  Lucy’s eyebrows shoot up. She’s thrown.

  “I’m not sure I understand,” she says slowly.

  I close my eyes, convinced now that she’s about to receive almost as much of a shock as I did.

  “It’s…it’s Charles.”

  She’s speechless for a moment. I watch her reaction as closely as I can. And if she’s not totally shocked by the revelation I just made, then she should head to Hollywood.

  She shakes her head. “No, it can’t be. You were blindfolded, weren’t you?”

  I clear my throat. “Until he took the blindfold off and showed me his face, yes.”

  “Shit...Emma! Seriously? Your Charles? That can’t be right.”

  I nod. She goes into deep thought.

  “Right, I need to know everything. To be clear, this is the man you see every Friday night? And let’s be honest for a second…the man who makes you swoon?”

  I nod again.

  “And he never once mentioned that he was the one inviting you to that house?”

  I shake my head, glad I’m not having to answer any real questions right now.

  “Sorry to make you talk about this, Emma, I just have to understand.”

  I sniff and nod. She hands me a tissue. I smile a thank you. I’d been so concerned with choosing the right handbag that I’d forgotten to actually put anything inside it.

  She doesn’t hurry me at all as I explain the details of what happened on the weekend. I also tell her how I confided in Charles on our last proper date, telling him about the worries I was having about this ‘mystery’ client. And how he even said I should talk to Lucy about it.

  “He said that? Seriously?”

  I nod again.

  “Fucking worm,” she says. It’s not often you hear Lucy Fulford swear, but I guess this revelation made the whole thing personal for her.

  She takes out her diary and makes some notes. Enough to make me think there’s still quite a bit I don’t know. I also see her put a long line through an appointment for the next few Fridays. I can’t see the upside-down writing very well, but I assume she’s striking out my nights with Charles.

  It shouldn’t be upsetting to see, but it is.

  Her jaw tightens.

  “Leave this with me, Emma. Take as long as you need, and then let me know when you feel ready to work again. You’re too good to sit on your sofa for long, okay?”

  “That’s nice to hear,” I smile. “I’ll be okay quite soon, I’m sure.”

  “And can I take you out to dinner tomorrow, by way of apology?”

  “Lucy, it’s not your fault! You don’t have to – ”

  “No buts. I’m responsible for you. I should have done better homework. Dinner’s on me. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  “Okay, sounds good,” I smile, feeling ever so slightly lighter.

  Chapter III

  A cracking meal and a little too much prosecco is all it takes to get me excited about work again. Lucy is so on my side, I can’t believe I even doubted her! I think about some of the ‘madams’ I’ve seen in the movies, and thank my lucky stars that real life is actually so much better.

  She tells me tha
t Charles is completely off her books now.

  “It’s a one-strike-and-you’re-out policy with any of my girls,” she declares.

  I nod thoughtfully. Now that I’ve had a couple more days to gather my thoughts, I can see that she’s probably gone beyond the call of duty for me. Is it harsh to have completely dropped him?

  “To be completely fair,” I murmur, “was that really a strike? I mean, he didn’t actually hurt me or anything. And what he did was horrible and misleading to me as a person – but not dangerous. He’s a paying customer after all. Does he have to show all his cards? I mean, I know I can’t work with him anymore, but – ”

  Did I really just fight his corner?

  Lucy clears her throat. “Very charitable of you Emma! Look, there’s no rulebook as such when it comes to this kind of thing. You’re right, he didn’t hurt you, and I’m convinced he never would. But what he did was enough to sour your working relationship, for want of a better word.

  “Granted, I could keep sending other girls to him, as I’ve done for several years now. But remember, he broke my trust too. I don’t feel much like dealing with him anymore. I’ve always reserved the right to break things off with any client – and when things don’t feel right then that’s a good enough reason in my books. It’s game over for him.”

  She smiles. “You really were close to him, weren’t you?”

  I look down at my pumpkin soup. “Were being the operative word, yeah.”

  There’s silence for a moment. I can feel her eyes on me.

  “So,” she says brightly. “Let’s get you back to work, if you feel ready?”

  I look back up and nod. “Probably a good idea!”

  We cook up a plan for me to get back into action on Friday evening. We both agree it’ll make sense for me to work rather than sit around thinking about how this would usually be my ‘date’ night with Charles. Especially with Christmas just around the corner. Lucy promises he’ll be a nice easy client. And I trust her. She might have been fooled by that snake, but then so was I. Anyone can make a mistake, especially with a charmer like that.

  Apparently there’s a long queue forming for my services, now that I’ve been off-duty for a few days. Lucy’s fast-tracked a good-looking young American diplomat to the front of the line. If that goes well, she asks me if I’m interested in a gang-bang alongside a beautiful Argentinian brunette called Laura on Sunday.

  Butterflies begin to dance in my stomach at the mention of a gang-bang. It’s been something I’ve wanted to try for longer than I care to admit. Sure, I’ve done a couple of scenes with multiple men, but this sounds like it’s on the next level.

  “It’s fun and easy,” says Lucy with a wicked smile, “although it’s obviously intense. It’s the fiftieth birthday party for an Italian property mogul, and he’s inviting about twenty-five of his friends. I’ve done a couple of these for him before: basically you and Laura get on your backs, side by side, on a table-top. Two hours of taking all they can give you, and twenty-five thousand Pound each.”

  “Oh my,” I gasp, thinking only of myself and the cute little Laura getting relentlessly pounded. “I think I’d like that…”

  I can’t get the image out of my head. I really want the gang-bang to happen. I’m glad Lucy has the confidence in me to throw me into a heavy scene almost right away after the hiccup. Apparently she doesn’t trust a lot of her girls to get through a gang-bang session.

  First, though, I need to survive Friday. When the evening rolls around, I’m almost as nervous as I was for my very first client. That doesn’t exactly help me forget Charles, but I do my best. It feels a lot like I’m making a fresh start tonight, and putting everything to do with him behind me. A long way behind me.

  Carl turns out to be smooth and simple to deal with. No pre-selected dresses, no special instructions, no kinks. He’s only twenty-three, so he doesn’t have a lot of imagination. What he does have is raw good looks. Long sideburns and tousled brown hair work well with his slender face. There’s a cute birthmark on his cheek, and he’s got the sweetest eyes.

  Lucy chose well. He’s actually in my age bracket, for one thing. Which is unusual. I’m not sure quite how he’s got the kind of money together to acquire my services, but I suppose he’s from a rich family. He doesn’t tell me much about his work at the United States Embassy, for obvious reasons, but I have to assume he isn’t very high up in the organization. My guess is that daddy got him some kind of placement here, and he’s using it to have a mighty good time.

  We meet at a hotel room in Hyde Park Lane. After a quick whisky, he’s ready to get down to business. I can see the bulge in his trousers: he’s desperately horny and really can’t wait. He’s too young to worry about playing games. And with our age so similar, I feel quite happy with taking the lead.

  My heart thuds as I get up off my chair and kneel down in front of his. I run my hands up his denim-clad calves. I don’t think I’ve dealt with anyone in jeans before. But I don’t mind it. This guy could pass for a cowboy. I look up and meet his eyes. I smile.

  I feel like I’m back where I belong again.

  I decide to free my body, and pull my dress up over my head, leaving me in just a pink bra and underwear. I love that lingerie. It’s such a naughty, red light district sort of colour. Yet very pretty too. And the best part about it? I stole it from Petra’s side of the wardrobe during our first week at Cranleigh House.

  I wriggle my body onto the wide armchair, straddling him so that he can take in the scent of my breasts. His hands begin to cup my buttocks, but it’s only a moment before his fingers slip under the fabric of my panties and enjoy more of my skin. I’m enjoying it too. Last night I finally broke my mini-drought, but only with Sarah. It’s nice to be touched by a man again. It’s been too long.

  I wiggle my groin closer to his, so I’m sitting on the thickening in his jeans. It’s deliciously promising. I pull his head closer too, running my hands through his hair. I want his mouth on my nipples. But I want his cock in my mouth even more. I feel like I’m exploring everything for the first time again.

  Breasts first, I decide, even though my mouth is crying out for its fill of masculinity. I pull the left bra cup to one side, letting my rock-hard nipple peep out. Eye see his eyebrow raise and a cheeky smile run across his face. I thrust my half-exposed breast at his mouth, willing him to nibble me.

  It’s as if I’m the one paying him.

  I clutch the back of the chair to steady myself as his lips close tightly around my nipple. His tongue darts at it, over and over, firing round after round of pleasure bullets from my nipple to my brain. I throw my head back, groan, and thrust my waist at his crotch.

  I feel so incredibly horny. This is how it should be. I was apprehensive about how this would go, but everything feels right.

  I love the way he’s hooked his thumb under my bra. He probably doesn’t know what a kick it gives me to feel the reminder that I’ve still got some pretence at modesty. That he’s getting to see something he shouldn’t. To touch forbidden fruit. Having half of one breast exposed is proving just as sexy as being completely topless.

  I’m so in my element right now. Lucy was right. I definitely didn’t need to be sitting at home thinking about Charles. Christ, I need to banish the thought of him from my mind.

  I focus again on the sexy young man I’m looking down upon right now. I need to keep my eyes, and my mind, on him. Only on him. This is the perfect moment for a blowjob. Actually, I might want more than that from his penis.

  I bend down and whisper in his ear, my straight, loose hair falling all around my face. It blinds me to the rest of the room, but only adds to the intimacy and closeness.

  “How about I suck your cock, baby?”

  “Mmm,” comes the dazed reply, along with a sharp inhalation. It’s all excitement and anticipation, that breath.

  I hop backwards so I’m back on my feet. My breast still hangs drunkenly out the side of my bra, and I love it. I feel reckless
tonight.

  I give him a wicked look as I begin to undo the buttons on his jeans. Soon I can feel his manhood through his dark boxers. I rub the taut fabric with my thumb, marvelling at the way it feels, the way it swells as I touch it. It’s like it has a life of its own.

  Is one cock as good as another? Right now, I want to believe that. This one’s going to be pretty tasty. As sweet as any other I might have swallowed tonight…if I were at my usual Friday customer…

  Focus, Emma!

  He lifts his hips so that I can slide his jeans and boxers down to the floor. Then he settles back into the chair, his cock towering up towards his belly button like a tall, helmeted soldier surveying his territory.

  But he’s about to become my territory.

  Letting my whims dictate exactly what I do, I decide to go hands-free. It’s such a beautiful angle, this. Kneeling down in front of him, I can appreciate the magnitude of his length. It’s the perfect position to lick an erect man in comfort. This is going to be like the ice cream that never melts, I smile to myself.

  I look up into his eyes one more time before I go in. Tucking my hands under his buttocks, I start by softly kissing his balls. They’re not too hairy, and it’s an absolute pleasure. Then my tongue begins to dart out, like a snake searching for prey, and it begins to trace a slow line across his sweet-smelling testicles, over the ridge, and onto his shaft.

  I give him more tongue and more saliva as I slurp my way slowly up to the top, using as much surface area as I could get my taste buds on. He groans as my tongue crosses onto his helmet, then drops over the glistening tip and onto his stomach.

  I give a naughty little laugh of delight. If he’s enjoying this half as much as I am, then he’s having the time of his life. I repeat the long, simple upward licks several times, adoring the sensation and the taste. Each time, he stiffens up a little more.

  God, he’s big. Bigger than…no, Emma!

  I shake my head at my wandering mind, move my hands up to his sides, and plunge his cock right into my mouth. My head spins with delight as I let it fill me, slowly encircling it with my tongue. I close my eyes and revel in its fullness once more. God, this is good.