Page 32 of Allured
After the show, I was the first one to leave the dressing room. My gym shorts were quickly thrown over my lacy ensemble, deciding that I would wash it at home and bring them back for the shows we have at the end of next week. Pretty soon we’ll be moving onto our new shows so it’s the last time I’m going to wear the strappy lace anyway.
Shirtless and rushing to make it home by ten so I can call Ezekiel, I might be driving a little over the speed limit. I can’t wait to see Ez.
I’m well aware I just saw him this morning, but after my morning tea with Knight, there’s been a heavy feeling in my chest that I know won’t go away until I open up to Ez.
A little part of me is constantly worried that it will ruin us.
As I drive, I reflect on that time in my life. I was eighteen with nowhere to go and nothing to my name but a high school diploma I barely graduated with. I had been doing anything from bussing tables to fixing up cars on major highways until I made it from Utah down to Texas. That was a good five years of scraping by and working hard, but at least I was free to be myself.
I could have stayed home. Some people might have called me ungrateful for leaving. I’m sure a lot of people back in Utah do. A whole life had been chosen for me by my dad and stepmom, and it was one I wanted nothing to do with.
Antonio and Julie wanted me to clean my act up and work for them in the family business. Nevermind that I had no fucking interest in accounting and numbers didn’t work with me. The reason I almost didn’t make it through high school was because of all the damn math classes I had failed and the suspensions I had gotten.
A little rebellion? That was something Antonio and Julie could work with. They were confident they could get my ass into gear.
Supporting an openly bisexual son? Not so much.
The day I turned eighteen, I got the speech about how I was a bad influence to have around two growing kids. Thomas was eleven at the time, and Vivian was only nine. Heartbroken, I left them behind. I was only a kid myself and couldn’t take them with me or stay somewhere I wasn’t wanted. Guilt tore away at me years until Viv had somehow found my phone number and reconnected the three of us. I may have not been with them in person but I was at least able to text my siblings and still be a part of their lives as they grew up.
I was twenty—three when I made it to Texas and decided to finally settle down. Years of back—breaking labor and my pastin gymnastics had helped sculpt my body into a form many desired. Honestly, it was one of the few assets I had, so I used it to my advantage.
It had started easy enough, taking clients from ads posted online; both men and women that seemed to need the company. It wasn’t always sexual in nature, but sometimes that’s all it was. I became so good at reading people and talking or directing them through their desires that it felt good to provide a service where people could truly be themselves and ask for what they wanted. Not to say it was always a smooth ride, but thankfully nothing I couldn’t handle myself.
Eventually, those dates lead me to more exclusive clientele and higher paying jobs, and ten months into my escort work, I met a recently—divorced Knight.
Without spilling all the details, the divorce was fresh and hit him so hard that he was questioning a lot of things. His sexuality being at the top of the list. That’s where I had come in and we started casually seeing each other.
Through our time together we discovered two major things: one, Knight is definitely heterosexual, and two, we worked well together as friends and surprisingly, as business partners. Our many conversations and outings hadn’t led to love but instead, the creation of The Garden of Eden Burlesque Club.
My thoughts halt as I look at the time on my dashboard while pulling into my driveway. Bright blue lights read 9:55. I’ve got time to pop inside before the call but not enough time to freshen up.
Grabbing my gym bag and hopping out of the car, I let my memories fade away for now. I’ll have to rehash everything when I tell Ez, but I can’t bear to do something like that over the phone. Our call tonight is for fun and I’ve been worked up since our flirty texts earlier today.
When it is time, I already know his physical presence will relax me when I tell him the rest of my story. It was hard telling him about Mama and the years after her death but I felt nothing but support, and actual damn gratitude, that I opened up to him.
My phone rings as soon as I sit my ass down on my bed. Ezekiel is punctual, got to give him that. My smile beams when I see it’s a video call.
“Miss my face that much already, angel?” I ask as soon as I see Ez’s face pop up on my screen.
“Well yes,” he replies. “I know we only parted this morning but I do miss you.” His matter—of—fact tone would be a little intimidating if it weren’t for the warmth in his stare.
“Missed you too. You get all your work done?”
Laying back onto my pillow, I place a hand behind my head while the other keeps my phone steady above me.
“Yes, and then some.” I look at his surroundings as he replies. He’s actually not in bed but on a reclining dark leather seat instead.
Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at me with a disgruntled look on his face.
“It’s quite easy to get work done without a distraction. Thankfully, I was already finished by the time you tried tempting me with that display of yours.”
“Tried?” I scoff. “You telling me Ididn’ttempt you?”
“Oh you certainly did, but I am a man of resolve, Alek. I couldn’t in good conscience fuck my fist to your video when there was still a list of chores to do.”
Is cursing a kink? Because I feel myself getting hard every damn time he taints that impressive vocabulary of his with something so dirty. My naughty professor is always surprising me.
“Please tell me you got your chores done.”
