Vincent
I arrived at my hotel and walked with brisk strides into it as the staff greeted me. I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to the penthouse suite. I heard the chiming inside of the bin as it passed each floor until it arrived at the top level.
Stepping off, I walked towards my room as my dress shoes' soles hit the tile floor. Opening the door, I walked in and set my keys on the table and removed my suit coat, draping it over the back of a chair. I would ring housekeeping later to pick up my dry cleaning.
I walked over and lifted the glass container of bourbon and pouring some into a tumbler. I needed a drink after today. Between meetings and the arrogance of that escort, I'm feeling even more restless than usual. I needed a release.
How is it? I can have anyone at my beck and call. Yet a call girl questions me. I'm paying for the service, not opinions, ones she needs to keep to herself. I sipped my bourbon as I looked out across the city, thinking.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Who was it now? I'm not expecting any calls. It better be good, I thought to myself, picking up the penthouse phone and answered it. "Yes?"
I listened as the manager explained to me I have a guest wanting to see me.
"I wasn't expecting anyone. Who is it?" My tone was firm yet harsh. I hated insolent phone calls, and I detested the staff bothering me. People needed reminding of their place in this world. They forget.
As the manager rambled, they finally announced who it was.
My answer was simple. "Send the person up." With that, I replaced the receiver in the cradle. I grabbed my tumbler and walked over to the window. I stare out into the darkened sky as my lips curled into a smile.
Lacey
I followed an older gentleman to the elevator. He looked apprehensive as I stood next to him in the bin. He rambled as I stood there. I wasn't in the mood for chitchat. I was here for business.
When the elevator reached the top floor, we stepped off and walked to a door at the end of the hallway. The man used a key card and let me into the room before turning to leave.
I looked around. It's a penthouse suite, decorated. I knew how much a penthouse cost since I had been too many. I walked around, looking at everything until I saw Vincent. He had his back to me as he stared out of the window.
"Have you considered my offer?" He asked, not bothering to look at me.
"Do I have a choice?" I questioned him in a snarky tone.
His head turned where I saw half his face. "We all have choices, Miss Powell. It's what you choose that makes the difference."
"Why did you want me?" I asked as I walked further into the room. "You could have asked for anyone. So why did you ask me?"
He turned and faced me, "Because we both have something in common."
"What's that?" I looked at him, irritated.
"We both screw people for money and don't give a damn who it affects even if it's in a unique aspect," he answered. He walked towards me. We came face to face. "We're not so different from business. I'm want to hire you because I prefer no complications. I'm offering a contract for thirty days."
"You're a real prick," I remarked.
"People have referred to me as worse, so your insults don't affect me," he smirked.
"If I agree to this, which I haven't, will you give everyone their jobs back?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Will I get my things back?"
"Yes," he answered again.
"It's only for a month, right?" I looked at him.
"One month, nothing more, nothing less," he replied.
"And what does this involve?" He looked at me as I stood there. If he would force my hand, then I wanted to know all the details of this deal.
"It's simple," he spoke as he walked over to a table and poured a tumbler full of bourbon. He turned, handing it to me as I declined. "You don't drink?"
"No, and I don't smoke or do drugs," I mentioned. I'm an escort and get paid for sex and other things. That didn't include drinking, smoking, or doing drugs. I refused to touch a drop of alcohol because of my pathetic excuse of a father.
"Very well," he said as he set the tumbler down, "as I was saying, you would be at my beck and call. You do whatever I want without question. In return, I provide you with everything you need. You also stay here."
"Excuse me?" I looked at him like he's insane. I never stayed with anyone.
"You live here for thirty days. I need to know where you're at all times. I can do that with you staying here. That also means no friends. I don't like to share," he informed me.
I looked at him. It's like I'm a prisoner and have no choice but to accept. It was that or the homeless shelter, which I refuse to go back.
"Fine, give me the damn contract," I barked as he looked at me. "What?"
"I prefer you not to swear. That is in the contract. I hate women with crude mouths. It makes them uncouth," he said as a matter of fact. Well, I hate you, you bastard.
"Fine," I replied as he turned and walked over to a phone. He picked it up and spoke to someone as I stood there. A few minutes later, he hung up and sat down in a chair.
"You can have a seat. The contract will arrive shortly," Vincent said. I walked over and sat down on a couch as I waited.
Vincent
Cruz arrived a few minutes later with a folder. I took it from him and pulled out the paperwork, setting it in front of Lacey. I also handed her a pen and instructed her where to sign.
She refused to sign until she read it. Smart girl. I didn't think she would. I sat in a chair as she read through each page of the contract. I was growing impatient by the minute. How long does it take someone to read an agreement?
An hour later, she finished, then picked up the pen. She pressed the tip to the paper. I watched her, waiting for her to sign, but she lifted the pen, placing the tip in her mouth. My patience was wearing thin. She flipped through the pages as I watched her. I could feel my left eye twitch.
"I made a few changes to the contract," she mentioned as I looked at her.
"Okay," I spoke through gritted teeth.
I watched as she started crossing out things and making corrections.
"What are you doing?" I asked her.
"Fixing some areas," she replied. "You of all people should understand that people revise contracts if deemed necessary. It could be harmful to one's health. I'm making the revisions. As you explained, business is business," she smirked as I felt the need to show her not to cross me.
Finally, she started signing the signature lines of the contract. Then handed me the paperwork. I flipped through it and noticed an area she crossed off.
"You crossed off kissing," I said, looking at her confused.
"I never kiss my clients. It's too personal. One thing I refuse to negotiate," she commented as I agreed. Most of the things she left while others, she crossed out. I'm okay with the corrections she made. I handed Cruz the paperwork, and he took it, leaving the penthouse.
I sat there and looked at her as she got up and strutted over to me. I watched as she reached behind her back, unzipping her dress, letting it fall to her feet. She stepped out of it, pushing it to the side, then got down on her knees. I watched as she undid my belt, then the button on my pants along with my zipper.
Pulling down my pants and boxers, she reached in and pulled out my dick. Then I watched as she lowered her head, placing her mouth on me. I sat there as she did her job, giving me pleasure. I have to admit that she knew how to work her mouth.
Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the amount of pleasure I received from her. Now she piqued my curiosity.
For a month, she is mine to do as I pleased with her. No complications or love. Unadulterated pleasure while enjoying the comfort with none of the hassles. It's my kind of agreement.