Page 3 of My Five Daddies

“Okay,” Isay.

“Great. Come thisway.”

She leads me through another series of hallways. I catch glimpses of other girls, dressed just like me, going in and out of doors. I hear the occasional sound, laughter from another hall, the pop of champagne, and a faint moan from behind a closed door, which is the only hint of sex I’ve seen so far. As we head into a back room, I catch sight of a few topless girls, each one absolutely stunning, running away from a guy wearing a bird mask, laughing his head off. The girls are giggling as theygo.

Stacey takes me into a prep room and introduces me to the kitchen staff and a few other people, including Roger the bouncer. “If anyone gets handsy, come to me,” he says, his dark skin an inky pool in the bright kitchen light, his eyes narrowed butsmiling.

“Thanks,” I say, but I’m already pulled away. Stacey shows me how to put in orders, where to pick them up. She gives me a pad and a menu, tells me to skim it as we talk. She goes through more information than I can possibly take in, on top of the menu, which is basically all finedining.

“And okay, if they ask for girls, come find Maurice.” She points at an older gentleman sitting at a desk with at least ten phones on it in the back corner. He smiles and waves back. “He handles allthat.”

“Girls?” I ask, and instantly regretit.

Stacey sighs. “Sex club, remember? Easy to forget, I know, we’re not some sordid whorehouse. But we still sell sex. Don’t forgetit.”

“Right,” I say, feeling dumb. “Ofcourse.”

“They know the rules with the girls, so don’t worry. These guys are regulars.” She turns to me, arms crossed and looks me in the eye. “Anyquestions?”

I have a million. “No,” Isay.

“Good. I’ll take you to the boys. They’re eagerlywaiting.”

I bite my lip and nod. “Okay.Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” She walks back through the kitchen and we head through a series of halls again. Finally we stop outside of a door with the number 502 in brass on thefront.

“Always knock,” she says, before rapping her knuckles against the wood. She turns the knob and pushes it slowly open, giving them time to tell her to stop if theywanted.

She opens the door and we step in together. I’m so nervous I can barely take in the details. It’s large, with several couches, a bar against one wall, and a huge television against another. There are five men, each of them wearing expensive suits, and I’m immediatelyoverwhelmed.

“Hello, gentlemen,” Stacey says, smiling huge. I barely remember to smile along with her. “This is the host I told you allabout.”

“First off, Stacey, we’re not gentlemen,” a man standing at the bar says. He’s tall and large, with thick shoulders, a gravelly voice, and piercing blue eyes. “We’re a bunch of scum, you knowthat.”

Stacey laughs lightly. “Scum or not, you’re gentlemen in myeyes.”

“That’s what I like about you,” another man says. He’s sitting on the couch, legs crossed. Dark hair, dark eyes, a mischievous grin, handsome as hell. “You’re always lying tous.”

“That’s her job after all.” A man with longer hair, deeply tanned skin, and full, sensuous lips steps up toward us. “I’m Ethan. Nice to meetyou.”

“I’m Tori.” I shake the man’s hand and he grins atme.

“Of course, you jump on the poor girl right away.” Another man steps up to me, jostling past Ethan, who steps away laughing. This one has a huge grin on his face, open and smiling. He’s handsome, with a chiseled jaw and a slight scar along one chin. “I’mWill.”

“Nice to meet you, Will.” I shake his handtoo.

“Don’t let these assholes intimidate you.” Will winks at me and stepsaway.

“Okay, boys,” Stacey says. “I’ll leave you in Tori’s capable hands. Go easy on her,okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Chris says from the bar, raising a glass. “We’ll be nice andgentle.”

Stacey smiles and leaves the room, shutting the door behindher.

For a second, all five men stare at me. They’re all older, maybe in their early forties, each one expensively dressed, and unreasonably handsome. I realize that I’m standing among the elite, men who have been around for a long time, and are a step above therest.

I glance to my left and the quietest of the bunch smiles at me. “Hunter,” he says softly, shaking my hand. “Ignore what the others say. They’re a bunch ofassholes.”

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