Текст книги "Aurora James"
Автор книги: Jessica Ingro
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I was waiting for the elevator when he finally joined me. He handed me an envelope that I was tempted to open, but I felt uncomfortable doing so in front of him.
“Xavier will collect the payment tomorrow, but I wanted you to have that tip.”
Wow. A tip? That was generous. I certainly hadn’t been expecting one, but I would take it.
Maybe the driver waiting downstairs wouldn’t mind stopping at the grocery store so I could pick up a few things. A smile lit up my face at the prospect of surprising Sophie with homemade pancakes. Her favorite.
Marx gave me a devastating smile in return and leaned against the door to the elevator when I stepped inside the car. “You might be my favorite one yet. Goodnight, Alyssa Swanson.”
“Goodnight, Mr. Marx.”
The door to the elevator closed and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d made it through my first night as a hooker. And dare I say, I’d enjoyed it?
The next morning, I was sipping a cup of coffee as I stood at the counter making Sophie blueberry pancakes. When I’d picked her up last night from Ruth’s, I had told her there was a surprise for the morning and as I glanced at the clock I couldn’t wait for her to wake up and see.
I smiled at the pan, knowing I was able to give this to her. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had homemade pancakes. She was going to be so excited.
A small thrill had worked its way through my body when I looked inside the envelope Marx had handed me and saw ten one hundred dollar bills tucked neatly inside. That was more money than I made in a month working for Malachi. It felt like my birthday and Christmas all rolled into one knowing that with that kind of money, I’d be able to have the car fixed, the cupboards full and money to spare after just another job or two.
The knowledge that my first client hadn’t been that bad after all wrapped around me like a warm, soft blanket. I had automatically expected the worst from prostituting. I’d seen enough television shows to have the image of a cracked out, desperate woman standing on the street corner, offering to take it up the ass for twenty dollars, burned in my head. So far, The Den was nowhere near as degrading as what those women experienced, and I hoped it stayed that way.
A knock on the door pulled me from my musings. It was barely eight o’clock. No one I knew would come calling this early. Unless of course it was Ruth looking to give me a piece of her mind before taking Mikey to daycare so she could go work at the diner where I had recently been fired from. She was like a dog with a bone trying to save my soul. I loved her—I really did—and I loved that she cared so much about me and Sophie, but I wasn’t sure how much more I could take before I snapped.
Wiping my hands on a towel, I moved to the door and peeked through the security hole. I gasped in surprise when I recognized the bent head of the man from The Den—Xavier, I presumed, seeing as how he’d never officially given me his name—who was standing next to a rather large mountain of a man I had never seen before.
Instinctively, I smoothed my sleep-mussed hair and tattered robe before opening the door with a polite grin on my face. It wouldn’t do well to greet the boss with anything less, especially since I wasn’t exactly dressed professionally.
“Good morning, Xavier,” I said casually and held the door open for them to come in. When he didn’t correct my choice in name right away, I figured I was correct in my assumption.
He looked downright delicious in a suit similar to the one he had worn the day before, this one charcoal gray with a matching coat covering the bulging muscles I knew were underneath. His black hair was cropped shorter than the day before, telling me he’d gotten it cut since the last time I had seen him, and my fingers itched to run through the tresses.
“Morning,” he mumbled with a severe look rather than a smile, causing my anxiety to flare to life. Was I not supposed to call him by his name? Was he not happy with my performance the night before? Marx had said I might be his favorite. Wasn’t that a good thing? Damn, I wished I knew.
“Can I get you two a cup of coffee?” I offered, my hostess skills still intact after years of watching my parents entertain while I was growing up.
The mountain man gave a slight shake of his head telling me no, while Xavier walked past me into the kitchen, making himself right at home by grabbing a mug from the dish drainer and pouring himself a cup.
This morning was getting stranger by the minute.
Xavier took a gulp of the hot liquid before fixing me with those beautiful blue eyes, making warmth spread throughout my body. I mentally chided myself for letting my boss affect me that way.
“Marx reported in,” he stated before pulling an envelope out of his inner coat pocket and setting it on the counter kitty-corner from where he stood. I closed the distance and picked it up, not wanting to seem too eager but dying to know how much money that strange scene had garnered me.
He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, letting me know I should open it. When I did, I nearly choked on my own saliva when I counted the money inside—two thousand dollars.
Cold hard cash.
My mind raced with possibilities. This was a lot of money, and I could get the car fixed, crawl out from under the debt I had accumulated since Kevin left, and finally start building a life for Sophie at this rate. Okay, so maybe not right away, but this was a major boost in getting in there.
“Not all the jobs will pay this much,” he warned as if reading my thoughts. “Take that and go shopping. Get yourself some acceptable clothes. I don’t want to see that black dress on you again. And my clients better not either.”
At the mention of the only dress I had—the one I had worn to both my interview and Marx’s house the night before—I winced. How the hell did he know I’d worn it again last night? Sure it wasn’t overly classy, and it was a bit big on my now smaller frame, but it wasn’t that bad either.
Before I could—very politely, I might add—tell him that, Sophie came running out of my bedroom. She was always a bundle of energy, but it increased drastically whenever she got to sleep with me as she had the night before.
She ran right past me and straight to Xavier where she crashed into his leg, her little arms wrapping around it. Her blonde curls were riotous around her face and her footy pajamas were absolutely adorable on her tiny body.
She looked up at Xavier in awe, like he was responsible for the sun rising in the morning and the moon in the evening.
“Are you a prince?” Sophie asked from her perch on his leg. I giggled at her antics. Xavier didn’t strike me as prince material.
He looked up from his study of my daughter, his eyes a mixture of amusement and what appeared to be fear. I might not know him well, but I found it highly amusing that a four-year-old could incite fear in a man as tough and intimidating as him.
“No, kid,” he said in a soft tone so opposite what you’d expected from his brash and hard looks.
Sophie looked thoughtful for a moment before asking, “Are you the king?”
“No,” he replied, and I thought I saw his lips twitch like he was hiding a smile.
“The knight in shining armor?” she tried again, her head cocked like she was attempting to figure him out.
Join the club, kid, I thought dryly.
“Princes and knights don’t exist, kid.”
Sophie’s lips immediately began trembling right before big fat crocodile tears leaked from her eyes. “Mommy,” she wailed, releasing her hold on Xavier and running to me. I picked her up and rocked her soothingly when she buried her face in my neck.
Sophie was a dreamer who loved her fairytales. She could repeat every single word from each of the Disney Princess movies. Her being told that world wasn’t real was just plain cruel.
“You can’t tell a four-year-old something like that,” I hissed while running my hand over her back.
“It’s best she learns that now instead of getting her hopes up. No girl should grow up looking for a man to protect her. She’ll only end up disappointed when they fail. They’re only men at the end of the day.” That dose of cynicism only added to the mystery that was Xavier.
Apparently done with the conversation, he walked to the door with the mountain man behind him. I had forgotten he was even there he blended into the background so easily, which you wouldn’t imagine after seeing his size.
“Trixie is expecting you today. Give her your schedule for the week.” Then, without further ado, he was gone.
I knocked on Trixie’s door later that afternoon after Ghost showed me how to get through the secret door. Guess now that I had passed the test, I could know how to access the bowels of The Den.
The wooden door opened and I was surprised to see an older woman standing in front of me. I wasn’t sure what I had expected Trixie to look like. Maybe a blonde with huge fake boobs and a tart personality. It would seem what I got was just the opposite. And I was more than okay with that.
Her graying blonde hair was swept up into a messy knot on her head. Her face was devoid of makeup, not that she needed it. I could only imagine what a knockout she had been when she was younger. She was beautiful, even though she had to be pushing sixty years old.
“Hi. Are you Trixie?” I asked the woman, sticking my hand out to hers.
She looked down at it for a moment before extending hers as well. “I am, and you are?”
“Alyssa Swanson. Xavier said you’d be expecting me,” I explained.
“Oh yes. Come on in.” I followed her into a room similar to the one Ghost had taken me to the last time I was at The Den. She sat behind the desk and pushed a small stack of papers in my direction. “Might as well take a seat and fill these out. Need to know your preferences—condoms, no condoms, anal, toys, girls—whatever you like and don’t like. This is your opportunity to tell me what kind of clients you won’t take. Everything is fair game if it isn’t on that sheet. I also need your medical history. Doc will be in on Monday. Until then, no penetration. Need to make sure you have a clean bill of health first. And all girls are on birth control, no matter what. Doc will get you squared away if you need it.”
I stared dazedly at the papers as she talked. It was all starting to seem a little too real for my comfort. Trixie must have been used to it because she gentled her tone as she continued to explain what was expected of me in regards to health exams, schedules and performance.
Still overwhelmed, I managed to fill out the paperwork.
Condoms? Yes, please.
Anal? Um… no, I didn’t think so.
Girl-on-girl action? I guess. I had no frame of reference to know whether I wanted to or not.
Blowjobs? Sure.
Toys? Definitely.
Bondage? After last night, I’d think that would be a given.
The list went on, and I was in a slight daze when I finally finished.
Trixie set a fancy new iPhone on the table in front of me and I blinked at it. Then I looked up at her and blinked again.
“That’s yours, courtesy of the boss. Any important numbers you’ll need to know are programmed in it. If you get a text with an assignment, you’re expected to answer it within the hour. Got it?”
I nodded woodenly, still reeling from the news that Xavier was giving me a cell phone.
He gives them to all the girls. You aren’t special, my mind chided me.
He probably did get them for everyone. The idea that I would be no different to him from the other girls had me frowning. I barely knew the man, and even though I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, wondering if I was special to him was a dangerous move. Even I knew that, and I was beginning to realize now that my eyes were opened to this crazy world that I was incredibly naïve.
“Welcome aboard, Aurora. Now I just need to know what your last name will be.”
I was caught off guard by her words and, as a result, gave her another confused expression. Last name?
“I’m sorry. Did you just call me Aurora? My name is Alyssa.”
“Maybe out there you’re Alyssa.” She pointed towards the door. “But in here, the boss says your name is Aurora. You can either tell me what you want your last name to be or I can make one for you. Your call.” She shrugged her shoulders and gave me an impatient look.
I supposed it made sense to have a stage name of sorts. Although Marx did know my real name. I wondered if that would be a problem or if Xavier would tell him to call me Aurora next time. If there was a next time. And I hoped there would be. Marx was good looking and wasn’t a creep. I’d take as many jobs with him as I could.
“James,” I told Trixie, my aunt’s last name being the first thing that came to mind. “Aurora James.” It felt odd on my tongue, but I kind of liked it. And the idea of having an alter ego was more appealing than I would have thought. Now I could compartmentalize my life, making it easier for when I had enough money saved up to walk away.
“I like it. I think the boss will like it too. Now let’s show you to your room. You can personalize it however you want, but I suggest you keep it locked whenever you aren’t inside. Girls here can get catty. I don’t approve of it, but I can’t always stop it either. Best to play it safe.”
I took that information in, cringing a little that I would most likely have to deal with childish antics from grown women, and followed her down one of the bisecting halls with lots of doors on either side. Oh, so these were the girls’ rooms. It all made sense now.
Stopping midway down, she unlocked a door on the right and pushed it open. I walked past her into the room. The walls were stark white, a pile of red silk sheets folded in the center of a queen-sized bed. A nightstand with a lovely Victorian lamp was next to the bed, and an old antique looking wardrobe faced the bed. To the left, there was a doorway leading into a three-piece bath.
“I’ll leave you to it. Check in with me tomorrow when you get here.”
“Thanks, Trixie.” With a small smile, she left me to take in my surroundings.
It was hard to believe this was all mine. I imagined a picture of a naked woman I had seen while window-shopping recently on the large empty wall over the bed. Maybe some pretty flowers on the table. I made a note to go to the store and pick both items up after my next paycheck and then proceeded to make the bed with the linens that were provided.
I had just finished putting the pillows in their cases when there was a knock on the partially closed door. Until that moment, I had forgotten I wasn’t alone in this place. Xavier must have paid big bucks to have the rooms soundproofed.
With a pillow in one hand, I pulled the door open with the other. On the other side of the threshold was a pretty redhead with bright green eyes and freckles on her face that gave her an innocent look.
“Hi,” she chirped. “Thought I’d welcome the new girl.”
“Hi,” I responded with a smile. “I appreciate it. I haven’t had a chance to actually meet anyone yet. I’m Alyssa… er… Aurora.” I shrugged. Did the girls call each other by their real names or their aliases? I had no idea what proper protocol was.
“I’m Marcia. But around here people call me Cotton Candy.” At the look on my face, she smiled knowingly. “Silly I know, but you’d be surprised how much the men eat it up.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Men weren’t that hard to please. Give them a cute girl with a stripper name and they’d be all over her in a flash.
“You can call me Candy, though. So what’s your story?” Candy had walked past me and on her question she flopped herself down on the bed, leaning back on her elbows as she looked up at me.
“Not much to tell. Single mother. No money.” I shrugged.
“Boy or girl?”
“Girl. Sophie. She’s four.”
“I have a girl myself. She’s seven. We should have a playdate with Sophie and Sasha.” Her look of pride at the mention of her daughter mirrored my own.
“I’d like that.” Trixie had warned me about the girls being catty, yet Candy seemed so nice. That didn’t mean I’d let my guard down completely. It did mean I was glad I had found someone to connect with so quickly.
“So is her dad a deadbeat or…” She trailed off, leaving it open for me to fill in the blank.
I sat on the bed and picked at the corner of the pillow in my hand. It was so humiliating talking about this part of my life. “My husband Kevin is in jail. He got hooked on drugs and no matter how many times I tried to help him get clean, it didn’t work. He blew through all our savings and took to stealing to get his fix. Long story short… he’s serving four years for robbery.”
“Shit. And I thought getting pregnant by my married boss was bad.” She shook her head and gave me a look full of pity, the one thing I despised the most about telling people about Kevin. “Do you go and see him?”
“No. Never. I don’t want Sophie to remember him in an orange jumpsuit with shackles. We decided that back when he was initially arrested. Besides, I warned him that he was going to lose us and it didn’t stop him from fucking everything up.”
“Sometimes the addiction is stronger than the person,” she sagely reminded me.
“I know. It just sucks, you know? Having your husband choose to stick a needle in his arm over spending time with his wife and daughter.” I felt tears prickling my eyes and took a deep breath. I refused to cry over this any longer. Especially with someone I just met.
“Yeah,” she said solemnly. “How about I show you around the place. Introduce you to whoever is around?”
“I’d like that.”
Candy jumped up and gripped my hands, pulling me from the room. I pulled back and locked the door, pocketing the key before rejoining her.
“Trixie warned you, huh?” she asked with a wink.
“Sure did. I’m not taking my chances. New girl hazing and all that,” I said cheekily.
“Yeah, well, in that case, you might want to supply your own condoms. The last new girl ended up pregnant when some of the other girls decided to poke holes in hers. Poor thing doesn’t know who the father is. We’re waiting to see what nationality the baby pops out.”
“Oh my God!” I said with a gasp, my hand flying up to land on my chest. “Are you serious?”
“No!” She let out a loud belly laugh, clenching her stomach and doubling over just as we arrived at the door leading out to the main room.
“Bitch!” I yelled, pushing her just as the door opened and Xavier prowled through it.
Just as all the other times I had seen him, I was instantly struck by his beauty. He was just so damn sexy. Every single one of my nerve endings began firing at the very sight of him. It was like being a hormonal adolescent all over again.
“Hey, X,” Candy greeted him.
“Candy.” He dipped his head in her direction before angling his body towards me. “Aurora.”
“Hey,” I said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind my ears. Something about being in this close of a proximity to him while in a narrow space had me feeling shy.
“You like your name?” he asked with a tilt of his head, and even that small movement had me staring at him in wonder, much the same way my daughter had earlier that day.
“I do.”
“Candy showing you around alright?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“Good. I’ll see you two later.” I watched him walk down the hall for a second before turning back to Candy, who was looking at me with an odd expression on her face. She quickly closed off her face, giving me a tight smile.
“Let’s go.” She pushed the door open and led me into the main room. It was mid-afternoon, so the place wasn’t too busy. Only a table of four men, laughing and drinking while a blonde gave one of them a lap dance.
“That’s Brandy over there.” She pointed at the blonde grinding on the man’s crotch. “She’s one of my good friends. I think you two will get along nicely. Up on the stage is Kitty and Cherry. Kitty’s okay. A little touchy after her boyfriend comes to town, but other than that she’s pretty cool. Stay away from Cherry, though. She’ll eat you up and spit you out given the chance. I think the term ‘mean girl’ was invented to describe her.”
I looked up at Kitty with her curvy figure and tight afro, thinking she was stunning. Then my eyes wandered over to Cherry with her enhanced breasts and narrow hips. Her perfectly pouty pink lips curled in an evil looking smirk before she turned her back to us and focused on a newcomer who had just sat in a chair next to her platform.
Well alright, then. Seemed like solid advice to avoid her if her smirk was anything to go off of.
We sidled up to the bar where we each took a stool. I looked out of place in my shorts and tank top, sitting next to Candy in her emerald green silk bra and panties.
“What’ll you have?” she asked me with a raised brow.
“Just a soda. I have to go pick up Sophie from the sitter.” Ruth had been kind enough to watch Sophie for me while I came into The Den, even though she really didn’t want to encourage my working here. It was time I found a good sitter so I wasn’t imposing on Ruth’s beliefs and moral compass whenever she helped me out.
“Hey, Cheech! Can we get two cokes over here?” She called out to the Mexican bartender, who had an uncanny resemblance to Cheech Marin from the infamous duo Cheech and Chong. I assumed that was where the name came from. All he needed was a doobie hanging from his mouth and you would have to do a double-take.
“Coming right up!” he shouted from the other end of the long bar before going to work on pouring our drinks.
“Thanks, hon,” Candy told the bartender when he set our glasses down. “Cheech, this is the new girl, Aurora.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said while he appraised me with a flirtatious grin on his lips.
“Sure is, darling. Sure is.”
“So, when do you officially start?” she asked when Cheech went to get another round for the table of men with Brandy.
“Well, I guess I already did.”
“No. I meant when do you take your first John?”
“I did,” I reiterated. “Last night.”
“I was here last night. I didn’t see you.” She looked at me skeptically.
“Oh no. It was at his place. Mr. Marx. Do you know him?”
Candy choked on her soda, her eyes watering as she sputtered, “Marx?”
“Yeah. Why? Do you know him?”
“Honey, everyone knows Marx. He’s one of X’s best clients.” Her gaze narrowed and turned shrewd. “Why did Trixie send you there?”
“She didn’t. Xavier did.”
“No shit.” She leaned back on the stool and shook her head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Do yourself a favor and don’t tell the other girls Marx was your first client.”
“How come?” I wouldn’t utter a peep about this if it meant turning the girls against me. I just didn’t understand why it was such a big deal.
“First of all, Marx is hot.” I nodded at that because he was, in fact, hot. “Second of all, Marx is a good tipper and is one of the higher paying clients, which means a bigger cut for the girl lucky enough to get assigned to him.” I nodded again because that did make sense. I had three thousand dollars to prove both of those statements were true. “Third of all, it’s easy money letting him tie you up while he gets off. It’s a lot easier than spreading your legs and humping up and down on some sorry loser, hoping you’re going to get off too.”
“Oh, I got off,” I informed her, choosing to ignore her description of what I had to look forward to working here.
“Wait. Marx actually got you off?” She set her glass down and leaned forward as if whatever I was about to say next was really important.
“Um, yes?” I squeaked out, afraid I had said something wrong. I barely knew this girl and I didn’t want to alienate her.
“Honey, he either did or he didn’t,” she pressed.
I sighed and took a sip of my drink before saying, “He did.”
“Well, shit!” She hooted and clapped me on the back. “Marx has gotten only one other girl off in the three years I’ve known him, and that was after she serviced him a handful of times. The rest of us get tied up and then sent on our way once he’s done. You, my friend, could become a legend. I’m glad I took the time to befriend you before anyone else did.”
I could tell by her tone that she was teasing, but I still found myself sitting up a little taller at the thought that Marx had enjoyed his time with me that much. I guess I had done something right after all.
“To your bright future, Aurora James.” Candy held her glass up. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” I clinked my glass on hers and smiled wide.
Maybe I’d make it after all.
