Page 40 of Blackmail
Fourteen
SIMON
I spend the week trying to study for my nursing exam and not think about Sebastian. One of those things goes better than the other.
Spoiler, it wasn’t my microbiology notes that had me missing another body against mine in the shower. Or feeling like my bed was too empty, even with Penelope curled up by my feet.
When Brennan calls me out to work a party Friday night, I’m relieved. Which is saying something, because I fucking hate these fucking things.
I pull up outside an obscenely large oceanfront house, where things must already be underway. We’ve got cocky young guys streaming into the place, and half-dressed sorority girls streaming out, music blasting.
Troy, Adam, and Ravi get out of the car behind me. Adam whistles. “Will you look at the size of this place?”
“Ten thousand square feet, easy,” Troy says.
I cut around a sloppily parked catering van to see terraced steps with giant potted plants dotted along the sides. Some kid’s throwing up into one of them.
“Great. I can already tell this is going to be a shitshow.”
Adam and Troy mumble their agreement.
Ravi’s eyes are so wide you’d think he’d never been to a party. Maybe he hasn’t.
Then I hear a voice I never wanted to hear again. “All right, looks like the entertainment’s here!”
Tony, the bad-in-bed piece of shit who happens to be still married to Sebastian, is standing at the entrance to the house. He’s looking down on us like we’re his subjects and he’s our benevolent leader. I never liked having sex with that guy, but not liking a client doesn’t get in the way if the money’s good. Suddenly, though, I’m grossed out by the fact that I’ve let his dick inside me.
Especially the way he’s standing there looking smug and wearing the worst suit I’ve ever seen. And this is coming from someone who grew up wearing what can only be described as “Amish chic.”
His suit’s got sequins, for fuck’s sake.
“Who wears a suit made of sequins?” Ravi asks beside me.
Not Sebastian. Even covered in what looked like a dried coffee stain, he was classy as hell the night we met. Charcoal slacks that fit just right around the crotch and shirts that hugged his arms. I’d bet money he gets that shit tailored.
“That bag of dicks right there.” I nod toward Tony.
Tony, who has the gall to come down the stairs, grabs my hands and kisses me on both cheeks as if we’re long-lost buddies. “Simon! Sooo good to see you again.”
Gross. Gross. Gross.
I tell myself the shiver that goes through my body is only because the night is breezy and unseasonably cool, and not at all because after having had Sebastian’s hands on me, Sebastian’s dick inside me, it doesn’t feel right to be touching someone else. If that were true, I’d really be fucked.
“Okay, so you guys will be performing on the main floor. Dancing good, fooling around with each other even better, other partygoers at your discretion.”
Ravi swallows audibly beside me.
“Wait.” I put my arm out to stop Adam before he can climb the rest of the steps into the house. I’m busy glaring at Tony. “Did you hire us?”
“Me? God no. The host did.” Tony, the guy who hired me probably half a dozen times in the last year and paid me for sex, slaps his hand to his chest as if he’s scandalized.
“If you ask me, the whole go-go dancing thing is done to death, but whatever.” Tony leads the way into the party.
Whatever. We’re getting paid. “Fine. Where can we get changed?”
“On the first floor, toward the back, there’s an office with a door and a private bathroom. You guys can get changed there. But hurry. Remember you’re on the clock.”
I think I’m gonna say that next time I get hired by a client who has trouble getting an erection.
