Working Girl: Volume One Read online

  Working Girl

  Volume One

  Scarlett Metal

  Working Girl

  Copyright © 2015 by Scarlett Metal. All rights reserved.

  First Print Edition: January 2015

  Limitless Publishing, LLC

  Kailua, HI 96734

  www.limitlesspublishing.com

  Formatting: Limitless Publishing

  ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-031-0

  ISBN-10: 1-68058-031-0

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For Lisa ~ Thank you for teaching me what’s important in life and to follow my dreams.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter One

  Violet

  “How was your week?”

  I was on the phone with my best friend and boss, Leslie. I had no sooner unlocked the door to my apartment than my phone rang. When I saw it was her, I put my keys in my purse and answered it.

  “Long, but I’m looking forward to tonight,” I said, kicking off my shoes and sitting on my couch. I put my feet up on the coffee table in front of me. It had been a long week and my feet were killing me.

  “Good,” she said. “Because I have a special client for you tonight.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You say that all the time, Leslie.” My cat Minion jumped up next to me and climbed on my lap, demanding my attention. I put out my hand to scratch under his chin. “What makes this one so different?”

  Leslie took a deep breath before speaking. “He’s an old friend. He recently moved to town from New York and called me today. He wanted my best girl and I told him it was you.”

  I smiled at her words. “So I’m your best girl, huh?” I teased her.

  “You know you are, Violet.” She paused. “He has very specific tastes. He’s paying for them, but I wanted to warn you.”

  “What do you mean?” I frowned.

  “It’s nothing you haven’t done before. I’m sending you an email with some details for tonight. Make sure to follow them explicitly.”

  Leslie seemed a little bit on edge, making me wonder who this new client was. “Are you okay, Leslie?” I asked.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s important you make him happy, that’s all.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Deacon,” she said.

  “And he’s an old friend of yours? From when?”

  “A long time ago,” she said softly. My curiosity had definitely been piqued. I made a mental note to ask her more about her history with this Deacon guy the next time I saw her. She didn’t seem to want to get into too much detail now on the phone.

  “Okay, well, send me the email. What time does he want to meet?” I asked, looking at the clock. It was already five, but I should have plenty of time to get ready.

  “It’s all in the email. You’ll have it shortly,” she said, sounding distracted. “I have to go, Violet. Text me if you have questions.”

  She hung up before I could say anything else. I shook my head and tossed my phone next to me on the couch. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I listened to my cat purr as he sat on my lap.

  I waited for the email to come from Leslie, but after fifteen minutes, I still didn’t have it. I decided to take a long shower while I waited. I pushed Minion off of my lap, eliciting a dirty look from him, and walked down the hall to the bathroom.

  What did Leslie mean when she said Deacon had specific tastes? In this business that could mean a million different things. I trusted her though; she knew my limits and respected them. She would never make me do something I didn’t want to do.

  I walked into my bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, unbuttoning my red blouse. When I was looking for apartments, one of the key things I looked for was a nice bathroom. I hit the jackpot when I found this place.

  It had a huge whirlpool tub that would fit two people, probably more. I spent many a night in there with a glass of wine and good book. The shower was a huge walk in with two shower heads. The vanity was spacious, with room for all of my makeup and hair care products.

  Off of the bathroom was a full walk-in closet that was to die for. I could keep all of my dresses and clothes in there along with racks for all of my shoes. There was even a place to hang all of my purses. I bought purses like most women bought shoes and had quite the collection.

  I was only twenty-four years old, but I had a kick ass apartment in one of the best neighborhoods of Chicago. It was all thanks to Leslie. She ran the most exclusive escort service in Chicago and I was one of her highest paid girls.

  It sounded crazy, but I enjoyed being an escort. I was attracted to power and I got to sleep with some of the most powerful men in town. I loved the sex and I especially loved the life it allowed me to live. I was completely independent and I was able to have very nice things. I didn’t like commitments and had no desire to be attached to anyone. The whole arrangement was perfect.

  I looked over at the tub longingly. After the long week I had, a soak in there with some candles and wine would be heavenly, but I didn’t have time for that. I got the impression from Leslie that if I was late tonight, it wouldn’t be good.

  I slipped off my blouse and turned on the shower to let it warm up while I removed the rest of my clothes. While I was doing so, I received the email Leslie mentioned. At first I thought about opening it after my shower, but I wanted to know what I was getting myself into tonight. I sat down on the edge of the tub wearing only my panties and thigh high stockings and opened it.

  Violet,

  Deacon has asked that you meet him at 8 PM at the Four Season Hotel in the bar. You are to wear a black dress. It’s to be something classy and not too revealing. Underneath it, wear a garter belt and stockings—black—but no underwear. Black high heels should complete the look. He’s also asked that you wear your hair down.

  I will warn you, Deacon is what you would call a dominant man. He wants me to tell you that the safe word you’re to use with him is ‘black.’

  Deacon is very important to me and it’s crucial he’s satisfied tonight. I’m counting on you, Violet. He’s paying a lot of money for your services.

  Any questions, text me.

  Leslie

  I closed the email and sat there for a minute, thinking about it. I had been with a few men that liked to tie me to the bed, but that was it. We’d never done anything that required a safe word. I had to admit, I was a little bit intrigued. And turned on.

  I stood up and checked the time. I had more than enough time to get ready before I had to catch a cab to the Four Seasons. I wanted to look perfect for Deacon; I didn’t want to let Leslie down after all she had done for me.

  I took a long, hot shower, letting the heat relax my muscles. I took extra care to shave my legs. I had been in for my regular bikini wax appointment earlier in the week, so I was good to go there.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Leslie’s comment that Deacon was a dominant man. She knew I wasn’t a fan of guys like that. There were ple
nty of girls she had that loved to be submissive, but I wasn’t one of them. I guarded my independence closely. This made it all the more interesting that she thought I was the best girl for him. I almost sent her text to ask her about it, but decided against it.

  After my shower, I stood in my closet wearing my skimpy white robe and looking at all of the dresses hanging there. I had more than enough to choose from, but nothing seemed right. I pulled out a few of my black dresses. His safe word was also the word ‘black.’ What was his fascination with that color?

  I slipped on my garter belt and rolled on my black stockings. I stopped and admired myself in the mirror. I took very good care of my body, going to yoga class four times a week and running five miles almost every day. At 5’6”, my body was fit and trim, but not too skinny. Leslie hated it when we started to get too thin or too muscular. She said men liked women with curves and I received no complaints.

  I reached up to cup my bare breasts. I was naturally a C cup unlike so many of the other girls with their fake ones. My nipples were a dark brown and I always thought they seemed freakishly large, but men seemed to love them.

  I looked at the dress I had finally decided on. It was a dress I had bought on a shopping spree one day but never had a chance to wear. The skirt came to my mid-calf and was soft and flowed, coming higher in the middle. The waist was cinched with a silver clip and the halter top plunged low between my breasts; it was perfect for tonight.

  I decided not to wear any jewelry with it besides my simple diamond earrings that had been a gift from a client. I found a black matching clutch that would go with it along with some black strappy heels.

  I took extra care with my hair. I kept my sandy-brown hair down other than a few strands pinned up at the side. I curled the ends a little to give it some bounce but that was it. My makeup was simple and tasteful. Leslie had taken great care to teach me how to bring out my green eyes without going overboard. I tried to keep my look classy despite the fact I was an escort; maybe that was why I was one of the favorites among the powerful of Chicago.

  I went to the intercom and asked the doorman to get me a cab. I checked my reflection one last time and refreshed my lipstick. The nerves were going into overdrive. I wasn’t used to new clients at this point anymore. I usually had the same few people. Between that and the fact that Leslie had stressed how important it was that Deacon be pleased with me, I was a nervous mess.

  My intercom buzzed. “Your cab is here, Miss Jones,” the doorman said.

  I pressed the button. “I’ll be right there.”

  It was a warm spring night, so I didn’t need a coat. I checked my clutch to make sure it had my phone, lipstick, ID, and some money if I needed it before heading out the door.

  When I got downstairs, the doorman had a cab waiting for me. “Thank you.” I smiled at him. Besides the fabulous bathroom, the security and friendly staff of this building were what sold me on this apartment.

  As usual, downtown Chicago traffic was a mess and I was glad I had allowed myself the extra time to get to the hotel. While we sat at a standstill, I watched the people walking on the street. I loved the hustle and bustle of Chicago. There was always something to do and so many different kinds of people. I had done some traveling with clients but nothing could compare. Being an escort allowed me to live here comfortably and do what I want.

  We finally pulled up to the hotel. I paid the cab driver and the doorman opened the door for me. He offered me a hand and I noticed the way he looked at the glimpse of my garter belt that came into view when I stepped out. I smiled and winked at him. It was sexually empowering when any man noticed me. It didn’t matter if he was a doorman or senator. Leslie taught me long ago that sex was power and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “Thank you,” I said softly to him. He tipped his hat and opened the door to the hotel for me.

  I loved the Four Seasons Hotel in Chicago. It wasn’t the first time I’d been there but I never got tired of it. The clean, classy lines of the architecture caught the eye and the steps in the front lobby were gorgeous.

  Leslie hadn’t told me how I would know which one was Deacon, but I had a feeling I would know when I saw him. When I entered the small hotel bar, my eyes were instantly drawn to a man in a black Armani suit having a drink.

  He was everything I imagined and more. He had jet-black hair that was slicked back and eyes so dark they looked like the color of night. His shoulders were broad and it was obvious he worked out.

  I watched as he finished his drink and ordered another. He screamed power even while doing something so simple. My breath quickened and I licked my lips. I was about to walk up to him when he turned around and saw me. He smiled and stood up, his tall frame unfolding itself from the chair before coming to me.

  “Violet,” he said, his voice deep and rich, like my favorite decadent chocolate. Leslie must have let him know my name ahead of time. He offered me his hand and I reached out to take it. “I’m Deacon,” he whispered, leaning in. I could smell a hint of his soap and woodsy cologne. “I’ve been waiting. Let’s go up to my room.” I noticed a hint of English accent. I’d been with a few Brits in my career and I’d developed a weakness for them.

  I nodded, unable to speak. He didn’t have to ask me twice.

  Chapter Two

  Deacon

  Fuck me.

  Leslie hadn’t been exaggerating when she said she would send me her best girl. I noticed her over the rim of my glass as I took a drink the minute she walked into the bar. I think the head of every man in the place turned to get a glimpse of her.

  The black dress she was wearing screamed sexy without being over the top. There was no way anyone would even think she was paid to have sex. As she walked, I noticed the black stockings covering her legs. I pictured the garter belt they were attached to. Good girl, she followed the instructions I’d given Leslie.

  Her makeup wasn’t overdone and accented her gorgeous green eyes. Her long hair looked soft and I wanted to bury my face in it and breathe in its scent. A small smile appeared on my lips when I thought about fisting it in my hand while I fucked her from behind later.

  I got up from my chair, ready to claim what was mine for the night. I had recently moved to Chicago and was craving the company of a pretty woman. Make no mistake, I didn’t need to pay for sex. It was just easier and made life less complicated. I tried casual hookups for a while and was always honest about what I wanted, but eventually things got messy. With my particular tastes, it was difficult to find someone who would willingly participate without the promise of a relationship.

  After taking care of a few things when I got to town, I called Leslie. She and I went way back; let’s say she wouldn’t be where she was today without my family and she owed me. Most of all, she knew the kinds of girls I desired and what I liked to do with them, so I wouldn’t have to explain myself or answer a lot of questions.

  My cock was already hard as I walked up to her and when I suggested we go up to my room, she readily agreed, her cheeks already flushed. She seemed excited to be alone with me. That would make tonight even more fun.

  I originally wanted to bring her back to my apartment. One of the first things I had done when I moved in was have one of the smaller bedrooms turned into a playroom, for lack of a better word. Since this was my first night with Violet, I decided it would be better to meet somewhere more neutral. If things went well, next time I would invite her there. Tonight I would have to get creative. Good thing I wore a belt and tie.

  I buttoned my jacket and we left the bar, my hand on the small of her back as I guided her to the elevator nearby. I licked my lips, admiring the way the dress hugged her waist and noticing the sound of her heels on the floor. I was almost drooling at the thought of her naked except for those shoes, garter belt, and stockings.

  I hit the button for the elevator and it soon opened. She walked in and I followed. I frowned slightly when I saw the elevator man. How was I supposed to tease her if we had an audienc
e? Maybe that would make it more fun. Wicked thoughts filled my mind. How would she react if I started anything in front of someone?

  “Sir, what floor?” the doorman asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “The penthouse,” I replied, scowling at him. He was staring at Violet with his tongue practically hanging out. I wanted to punch him and tell him to put it away.

  On the other hand, I couldn’t blame him. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye; she was gorgeous. I noticed her ample breasts moving up and down with her breathing. Was it nerves or was she as excited as I was? Something told me it was a little bit of both.

  “Here we are, sir,” he said when we arrived at the penthouse. The door opened and I motioned for Violet to go in ahead of me. She walked to the middle of the sitting room and turned to face me. I followed her, walking slow so I could watch her.

  “Put your purse on the table,” I said. She leaned over and set her small clutch on the end table nearby. She came back to where she had been standing, looking at me expectantly.

  “So Violet, what did Leslie tell you about me?” I asked, taking off my suit coat and tossing it over a chair. I unbuttoned my sleeves and rolled them up on my forearms before undoing my tie. I pulled it off and set it on the nearby table; we might need it later and I wanted to know where it was.

  “Not much,” she admitted, her voice clear and strong. She carried herself with such an air of confidence, it was a major turn on.

  “No?” I asked, a little bit surprised. I started to walk around her, looking her up and down.

  “No,” she repeated. “She told me you were an old friend, that’s all.”

  I smiled to myself. “Yes, I suppose you could say we are old friends.” I stopped in front of her. “She tells me you’re her best girl.”