Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Josh pauses with his glass halfway to his mouth, and I feel his stare burning. My own cheeks burn up, and my heart thumps, because I’ve overstepped the line here. That kind of sentiment should never be spoken aloud. Clients should never be offered services for free. Not ever. That’s breaking the code of conduct. And sure, we are staying in Heath Mason’s villa for a token fee, not a huge one, but he is still a client and he is still ‘rewarding’ us on top for our services. We are still his curvas.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” I say, hating how awkward the words feel in my mouth. “Sorry, that’s totally unprofessional.”
Heath shrugs. “There are plenty of things that shouldn’t have been said on this trip. I’m not counting. And I’m not going to hold you to it. I’m happy to keep paying for your services. The Agency will have nothing to complain about.”
Urgh, I really have goofed up here. Something feels weird. Like splashing around in unfamiliar waters – a tangle of work and emotions that I don’t know how the fuck to navigate.
No, the Agency won’t have anything to complain about officially when it comes to Heath being a client, I know that. But this isn’t about the Agency… it’s about him. The niggling feeling that I don’t want Heath to be paying for what should rightfully be his for free. Josh and I both want to be here, I’m just telling the truth. We’d happily be doing these ‘proposals’ for no fee at all, and if things were different maybe we’d even be dishing out proposals of our own right back at him.
Now that’s something I’d like to see.
Josh’s ‘proposals’ to Heath, giving the commands on exactly what Heath would be expected to perform for the evening, and watching Heath stew excitedly as he awaited his servitude. His desire for a five-star rating.
I imagine putting pen to paper for myself. I’d have so many fantasies of my own regarding my boyfriend and my onscreen idol. So many dreams to tap into…
“I mean it,” Heath says, his words cutting through my thoughts and dragging me out of dream world. “The Agency will have no gripe whatsoever, Ella. There is no need to be concerned.”
“I’m not concerned.” I smile as I reach over and take his hand across the counter, giving his fingers a squeeze. I could elaborate so much more on how I feel about things, but it would only stir up a muddy pit of emotions that both Josh and I would get caught up in, and that’s not fair. On either of us.
Or on Heath.
Josh coughs as he steps over and refills his water glass. I know from his grin that he’s going to derail this avenue completely. He’s good with diversions.
“Come on, Ells, be a good curva now and get your bladder filled. Heathy baby is going to get the night of his dreams. We’re here to make sure of it.”
I note how he uses the word curva. The accentuation spot on. I also notice the way Heath’s smile disappears for just a moment. A flash of… something. Rejection? Disappointment? Hurt?
His smile returns in a flash, replaced by a brighter one. Just not so genuine.
“Yes, you are here to make sure of it,” he says. “Want your reward tomorrow? You’re going to have to earn it. It’s quite a club I’ve got in mind for you.”
Fine. Avenue sealed as it should be, so let the games begin.
We barely bother with dinner this evening, since we’re all so keen to get to the action. We have some cheese, biscuits, and another load of grapes, for a laugh. I munch a load down happily, and indulge in a lovely, chilled bottle of my favourite sparkling wine from the day, but there is a parallel at play here. We are necking the water back like there’s no tomorrow.
The sun is only just setting when I cross my legs against the need to go and pee, it’s getting that overpowering. The guys must be feeling the same since they’ve been knocking it back just as much as I have – but they are much more used to this game. Josh has been an entertainer a lot longer than I have. I’m still a relative newbie.
My boyfriend clocks the way my legs are positioned on the lounger. The sparkle of the fading sun on the swimming pool doesn’t help me any. Water…
“You need to piss, don’t you?” he asks me, his tone dark and sultry. He pops another grape into his mouth, munching slowly as I squirm. “What do you want your beautiful curva to do, Heathy baby? She’s running out of composure.” His eyes meet mine. “Admit it, Ells. Tell Heath how much you’re aching to take a piss right now. Does it ache? It aches, doesn’t it?”