Release Your Inner Vixen: Male Escorts for Hire - RP

Casey? His name is Casey? I don't know why I'm so surprised. Surely he wouldn't show up as an escort, spouting out his real name.

It's a nice name, I have to admit.

Mr. Palmer interrupts me from my thoughts, clapping his hand over my shoulder and leaning in to ruffle my hair. "Who was the young man?"

I freeze. I can't exactly lie. "Oh. The, uh... friend." My male escort friend.

His understanding eyes see through me. "The friend, huh?"

I sigh. "Acquaintance is more the word I was looking for, Mr. Palmer." I back away from his questioning gaze and smooth the wrinkles from my dress. "We should start moving the pieces for the auction." Thinking of one last thing, I turn back around to face him. "Oh, and I'd like to take one of mine home."

Casey brings his date back to his place and has some fun, the next day he gets up and heads to the gym. As he works out, his thoughts go to Elissa, she was more interesting than he thought.

When he gets back, his lady friend has left and he sits, alone for a bit. It's a part of life he doesn't like, soon he's up and goes to hang out with some friends.

"It's been a freaking month," Val scolds me from the other end of the phone. "You're telling me you never called the hottie at the bar who was all about giving you his digits?"

I groan. "He seemed creepy. He kept looking at me."

"Uh, hello, it's what people do. They look. You're hot, he's got eyes. He looks!"

Okay, she has me there. I'm out of excuses. "Well, I washed his number in the laundry and it's too faded to read now. Shame."

"Yeah, and what about Mr. Sex On a Stick?" she challenges me. "I bet my left tit you've still got his number."

She has me there, too. "That's different. He's a no-strings date. Bar Guy required dates and effort and relationship stuff."

"Bar Guy doesn't require one grand for a few hours of his time, you demented sleaze. And I guarantee you he'd let you fuck him free of charge."

"Would you stop that?" I shriek. "I'll go to your housewarming. I'm doing this as your friend. But I don't have the time, nor do I have the energy to go looking for a guy to drag along."

"It's date only," Val reminds me, her voice a fake saccharine sweet. "I didn't make the rules."

"Yes, you did!"

"All right, I did. Call your hot sex robot and have him come. And then, literally, sure. Have him come. You both could use it."

Before I can argue, she hangs up, leaving me fuming on the other end. Manipulative little...

Resigning myself to defeat, I scroll through my contacts until I reach Christian's -Casey's- number. I hit Send.

Casey answers and hears it's Elissa, going on about another event and needing a date. He wanted to reconsider but rule he's not allowed to refuse, he agrees to coming.

That night, he shows up and was told it's not very formal but he shows up in his usual suit with no tie, truth be told he hates ties. He walks into the house, it's full of people already and finally spots Elissa.

He goes over to her, they met the week before and she gave the deposit. It was going to be more than two hours this time. "Looking beautiful as always..." looking at her in awe, the charm is on full swing.

I smile at Casey -or do I call him Christian, still?- and do the smallest of curtseys. "Thank you. You're looking extremely handsome, yourself."

I promised myself the moment I'd finished booking the date, I'd request his time for the four hours we'd be staying at the housewarming, maybe enough to grab a dinner, but that I'd behave myself. I won't be touching any alcohol tonight, nor will I be pouring out my soul like my paid date is a confessional. And there will be no sex.

He looks at her and returns the smile, "Not drinking tonight..?" she shakes her head, he looks at her, "I thought I told you...stop being hard on yourself, never getting drunk again? Hate to break it to you but a guy who stays and helps a drunk girl, is not some saint."

What? "It's a gentleman thing to do!" I shoot back. "You know, to make sure I don't choke on my own vomit in my sleep or that, I don't know, nothing bad happens. Which you did. And then you made me breakfast."

I grimace. "Not that I didn't appreciate it, but still. I'm behaving. There are no exes to drive away here, no one to convince. I just needed a date, so here we are."

He looks at her, "And making you breakfast, another task that seems above and beyond for you."

He is leaning next to her, looking at her.

I bristle. "No man since my father has ever took the time to make me breakfast, Christian. Or Casey. Or whoever. Little things mean the most, so I apologize if I appreciated the gesture."

He looks at her and laughs, "Again..you're apologizing, stop. I find it also pathetic this Mark guy never made you eggs."

I cross my arms over my chest. "Mark was... complicated. He always was. He had a hard time showing his feelings. He'd buy me things, this or that, but he never did anything extraordinary or sentimental or romantic. I mean, he said he loved me and he was there for me during the worst time of my life, but later? It wasn't the same. At the time, I figured he was doing his best. Then, of course, that guess wasn't exactly on the money."

I shrug. "I don't think I read people very well, Casey. It's a glitch in my brain. There's this automatic trust and caring switch that activates with everyone I meet. I'm always trying to see the best in all the worst people."

He looks at her, "Please stop saying my real name..." advising because Val comes over to them, Val looks at them both and winks to Elissa, she looks at Christian "Thank you for coming...you guys having fun?"

"I sure am but I have alcohol" He takes a swig of his beer, looks back to Elissa and shakes it off. He's not being his charming self, his true self seems to be coming out around Elissa.

Val looks from me to Christian, eyebrows hitched, and I fix her with a glare. "Christian and I are going outside. The house is lovely."

It really is. I should say more about it, I know. But first, she ditched me drunk at a bar and had Christian take me home, and now she won't get off my back about finding a date or getting laid or both. She can deal with lovely.

Christian takes my hand, pulls me to his side, and I lead him out by the patio. We walk across the soft blades of grass, the earth plush and cool beneath my toes, and I stop when we reach the newly made pond. The fish haven't been added just yet due to a late shipment, so it's just the water and the beautiful night around us. The sounds from the party are barely a whisper to us now.

I ease myself down, kick off my heels and slip my feet into the water. Instantly, I'm relaxed. "This is nice," I tell Christian, leaning back to meet his gaze. "Come, roll up that Armani and dip your piggies."

He looks at her, "I have done my fair share of this, believe me...reminds me of home." Rolls up his pants and does sit, takes off the suit jacket and looks at her, she has a question of where is home?

"Louisiana...,I was born there. I lived in water." He looks at her, "I really do like the dress you're wearing..."

I snort. "Are we back to the compliments, Casanova? I paid you for the company, not to butter me up." I nudge his side with my elbow. "You. Be you."

He looks at her, "I would have to give back your money, if you want that."

I stare back at him, challenging him with my eyes. "Oh, yeah? I believe the contract I signed said you'd be whoever I wanted you to be. So, tough shit, basically."

I lean back and dig my palms into the grass to support my weight, my feet kicking through the water alongside his. "Tell me more about you."

He looks away and at the water, "Or, you tell me about you..." looking back and she doesn't lose her glare, looking away.

"I am self-explanatory, no idea what I want to do...so, till then I am at every womans beck and call. It's a dream come true." He adds with a bit of sarcasm, "My favorite food is Pizza."

Interesting. "No idea what you want to do?" I ask, turning my head to the side to look at him. "Well, everybody has some sort of idea. You know, not to sound rude or anything, but I figured men would love to be paid for sex."

He looks at her, "Yeah...in the beginning it's fun. It's the easiest job I have ever done but eventually it can wear you out. It's the same type of women, desperate for attention their husbands don't give them...you have to get over any kind of morals you have, some of us guys do have them."

I lose my playful smile. "Oh." I look down at my lap, and my legs stop swinging. "Yeah, that would suck."

Without thinking about it, I lean into him. Then, well, it's a little too late to call retreat and act as if I hadn't meant to. So I stay there, my thigh next to his, my arm resting against his bicep. He still smells fantastic, just with a heavenly mix of earth and the night breeze added to it. Somehow that's an even more dangerous combination.

"Tell me, then, what you'd do if you could do anything in the world. Leave out that bitch called Reality. I want to hear your dream."

He lets her lean in, his lips slightly on top of her hair. He thinks about it, "I really don't know, I never was big into school and spent most of my time modeling in Europe till I was 20."

"Did you always want to be a grammar teacher? I will admit, you're one of the first clients I have, who have a job. Most are spending their divorce money on me." Turning it around.

I smile. I know he's deflecting, but I'm happy just talking. I haven't said anything stupid. Yet.

"It was 50/50," I reply. "Art was always my thing, first and foremost. My father and I, we had this studio. We'd stay there for hours, him in his corner and me in mine. Then, I don't know. He died of a brain tumor when I was seventeen. After that, it's like my inspiration went out the window." I shrug. "But I've always loved people. Writing. Teaching. I adore my students. I figure if you're not making a difference in the world, why do anything at all?"

He listens to every word she says, "Nicely put..., wish my Dad was into art. None of my parents were, your mother still alive?"

i laugh. "Ah, Maman. She's very much alive. She runs a catering service. She can't get most people to try out some of her French delicacies, though. Ox tongue and frog legs? Even I couldn't stomach it."

Christian chuckles at that. I find myself leaning closer, enjoying the feel of his lips on my hair. My feet go back to doing windmill strokes in the water.

"Would it be too personal to ask about your parents?"