Torment Me (Rough Love Part One) Read online

  I knew it was time for him to go, but I didn’t want him to go. I wished he would order food, like last time. I wanted to sit and eat together, and talk like friends, but instead he got dressed and started re-packing the kinky gear into his briefcase. Cuffs, rope, clamps, gag, mask, the beautiful collar. I stared out the window while he moved around the room, because I didn’t want him to leave. When I heard him zip his bag, I turned.

  “I’m staying at the apartment now,” I told him. “It’s so beautiful.”

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “Simon and I are finished.” He hadn’t asked, and he probably didn’t want to know, but it seemed important to tell him. “We’ve broken up for good. It’s a really good thing, and you helped me make that decision. So thanks.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “It would have happened eventually anyway.”

  “I guess.”

  I knew, I knew he didn’t want me to say any more, but now that I’d started talking, I couldn’t seem to stop all my self-congratulatory bullshit from spilling out. “I’ve been looking into schools. You know, degree programs. I’m going to stop escorting soon, in the next few months, I hope, and go back to school. I’m thinking about a design career, or fashion. Something creative.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I know I can do it. There are plenty of scholarships out there, and I have money saved up. But I could keep seeing you as long as you liked. I mean, I guess I could. I don’t think Henry would have a problem with it.”

  His eyes were so blue when he stared at me. So magnificently blue.

  “But even if he did...I don’t know. I wouldn’t charge you. I don’t think he can complain if you and I... I mean... If we were just having sex together, not for money.”

  I pulled my robe tighter around me. W tilted his head.

  “But that wouldn’t really be a client-customer relationship anymore, would it?” he asked. He touched the tip of one of his fingers, then pinched it, the way he pinched my nipples. “We’d have to figure that out.”

  “We could definitely figure things out,” I said too quickly. “And none of this is happening right away. I just wanted you to know that even though my life is going to start changing, things between us don’t have to change. I don’t want them to change. I look forward to our sessions. I mean, I do now. I know we had kind of a...a rocky start, but I really enjoy...now...” Stop babbling. Shut up, shut up.

  “I enjoy our sessions too,” he said. “We have fun together.”

  “But school, and a better career...it’s good, right?”

  “Yes, it’s good,” he agreed with a genuine smile. A small smile, but a genuine one. “I’m sure you’ll be great at anything you pursue.” He finally stopped pinching his finger, and lifted his briefcase. “Are you going to stay here tonight?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.” I grinned at him. “I have a really nice place of my own to go to now.”

  “Yes, you do.” He walked over and touched my arm, a fleeting caress. “You brought some extra clothes?”

  “Yes. I always do, thanks to you and your scissors.”

  “Good. Because I’m taking the dress. I doubt you’ll be wearing it again.”

  I watched as he crossed the room and picked up the scraps of my bodice and skirt, and shoved them into his briefcase with everything else.

  “That was one of my favorites,” I said mournfully. “What are you going to do with it?”

  He shook his head. That smile again. “You don’t want to know. Have a good week, starshine.”

  He gave me one last kiss, a soft, lingering kiss that ended in a bite. Orgasms, kisses, and...

  “Oh.” I stopped him on the way to the door. “Aren’t you going to give me some poetry?”

  He looked at me, then dug in his overstuffed briefcase for a pen. “Come here,” he said. He pulled me against his chest, my back to his front, and took my arm. He ran fingers up the pale underside of my forearm, from elbow to wrist.

  “I already gave you some poetry,” he said against my ear. “You don’t listen.”

  I watched as he wrote. The pen tickled, and sometimes scratched.

  Look at what you do for me.

  You’re so beautiful.

  “That’s nice poetry,” I said when he was done. “I wonder who wrote that.”

  “Some self-absorbed, perverted jerk,” he answered, smacking my ass. Even through the fluffy robe, it hurt. He kissed me and departed, leaving the room quiet. Too quiet.

  Although the room was luxuriantly gorgeous, I decided not to stay the night, because I’d just sit around missing W. That was one downside of leaving Simon. I had too much time on my hands to daydream and think about impossible things.

  I glanced at the words scrawled on my skin. Maybe not so impossible.

  Maybe someday he’d tell me his name, when he trusted me better, and knew me better. In the meantime, orgasms and poetry were enough.

  I got out my phone to take a picture of my forearm, standing next to the window to find the perfect amount of light. It seemed important to save everything W gave me, to archive it and analyze it. These words would eventually fade, but I’d have a picture to remember.

  Poems, pictures, memories.

  I wanted so much more.

  In Between

  Henry met me Thursday afternoon at a cafe on West 3rd. I hadn’t told him yet I was quitting, but I think he knew. He hugged me extra hard before he sat down across from me.

  “So what’s up, love?” he asked, once we’d ordered some coffee and sandwiches. “How’s your life?”

  “It’s good.”

  “How are things with Mr. Cumming? It’s been two months. Is he mellowing at all?”

  “Mellowing?”

  He poured sugar in his coffee and looked up at me. “Mellowing. I remember you described him in less than glowing terms after your first date.”

  I thought a moment. “He’s mellowed a little, maybe. But he still hasn’t told me his real name.”

  “He just set up a date for next week, at the Gramercy Park Hotel.”

  I stared down at my coffee. Henry wasn’t going to make this easy for me.

  “Listen, I asked you to lunch today to let you know that...well... Mr. Cumming is going to be my last client.”

  In the awkward silence, the waitress sailed by and dumped our plates on the table. “Need anything else right now?” she chirped, eyeing Henry.

  “No,” he said. “We’re good.”

  I pulled the toothpick out of my sandwich and laid it at the edge of my plate. “Are we good, Henry?” I asked. “Are you angry?”

  “Not angry. Disappointed. You’re leaving the business?”

  “Yes. I’m getting older—”

  “Older? You’re not even thirty. You’re in the prime of your escort life. Young enough to be gorgeous, and seasoned enough to know the sexiest techniques.”

  “Did you just call me ‘seasoned’?”

  He waved a pickle spear at me. “Don’t try to joke your way out of this. You’re not too old. What’s the real reason? Is Mr. Cumming getting to you?”

  Yes. But not in the way you think.

  “If he’s too much, I told you, Nina can take him. If it’s the exclusive thing—”

  “It’s not the exclusive thing. I’ve been ready to leave for a while. I finally broke up with Simon—”

  “Good.”

  “And I feel like I’m on a roll. I just need to keep making changes in my life. I need to keep moving forward while I have this momentum. I planned to start back to school this fall. So I can work a few more months. July and August. After that, I want to be a student. Only a student.”

  “A student?” he said, wrinkling his nose. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to escort anymore.”

  “Have you told Mr. Cumming this? That you’re leaving the business?”

  “No,” I lied.

  Henry was looking at me too sharply. He took a bite of his sandwich, watching me as he
chewed. “Do the two of you have something going on?”

  I laughed, and it sounded so fake. “I don’t think so. Like I said, he still hasn’t told me his name.”

  “I knew the exclusive thing was a mistake. Is this his idea, for you to leave the business? He wants to set you up in some apartment to play house for a while? You know how these things end.”

  “He hasn’t said anything about playing house.” Although he may have set me up in an apartment...

  “These situations last a couple months, and then the girls are back begging for another chance. I’ve been doing this a while, Chere. Once men can have you for free, they don’t want you anymore. The chase is over. The thrill is gone.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I said, holding up a hand. “I’m not leaving the business to be with W.”

  “Who’s W?”

  “That’s what I call him,” I said. “Because I don’t know his name. And I’ve been doing this a while too, so give me some fucking credit. I’m not leaving the business to move in with my client or anyone else.”

  I started out trying to convince Henry, but halfway through my tirade I realized it was true. I wasn’t leaving for W, although I really hoped to keep seeing him. I was leaving because I wanted a different life.

  “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I’m tired of making a living with sex?” I asked. “Before I escorted, I was a stripper. I’ve only ever done sex jobs. I’m tired of being valued for what’s between my legs.”

  Henry rolled his eyes. “You make a lot of money with what’s between your legs. You have a good life.”

  “How do you know?”

  We glared at each other. I loved Henry. I didn’t want to end things on an acrimonious note, but he was being more of an asshole than I’d expected.

  “You have a good life too,” I reminded him. “Because of me and the rest of your escorts. What if you had to make that money with your own body?”

  “I did make money with my body,” he said, leaning forward. “I understand. I know it gets old, but you’re at the height of your career. You make people happy, even if you’re feeling some weird, unfounded guilt about making money from your sexuality.”

  “It’s not that. It’s not guilt. I’m just over escorting. This isn’t what I’m meant to do with my life. I know that, Henry. I’ve felt it for a long time. I always knew there was going to be an ending to it, and that’s happening now.”

  “What else are you going to do?”

  “I told you, I’m going to go to school.”

  “To do what?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Design, maybe. Some creative type of career that entails being more than someone’s pretty holes.”

  I was quoting W, yes. Henry wasn’t stupid. He suspected W was part of this, but he couldn’t stop me if I wanted to get out. He ate a few more bites of his sandwich, and I ate some of mine too.

  “I’m not leaving you high and dry, am I?” I said as the silence lengthened. “You have other girls.”

  “I have plenty of girls, but I hate to lose a good one.” He put his sandwich down and brushed his fingers together. “I know I’ve been losing you for a while, and I understand why, but I don’t have to like it.” He held out his hand, and I took it. “I’m sorry I freaked on you, love. You have every right to do what you want with your life. So, a couple of months, you think?”

  I nodded. “I’d like to work right up until I start school. Build up a little extra money.”

  “Want me to raise the price on E.E. Moneybucks? I’m pretty sure he’d pay it.”

  “No.” I didn’t want him to charge W at all, but I worried he was only interested in sex he paid for. Maybe I could change his mind over the next few weeks, change him the way he’d changed me. Maybe we could find our way to some mutually satisfying place.

  You’re a dreamer, Chere. An idiotic dreamer. The last thing I needed was another relationship. I’d settle for a friendship. I ran fingers up the underside of my forearm, tracing the memory of his words.

  Henry sighed and picked up his coffee. “I think you have a crush on Mr. Cumming. You get jittery whenever his name comes up.”

  I glanced at him, wondering how much I should reveal. Nothing. Definitely nothing. He’d pitch into more lectures, and I didn’t want that. “There’s a reason I get jittery,” I finally said. “He gives magical orgasms. And by magical I mean what-the-fuck, ruined-forever magical.”

  He looked pleased. “I’m glad when I hear my girls are enjoying themselves. So you’re definitely on for next week?”

  “I’m definitely on for next week.”

  Henry was so trusting, and I’d kept so many secrets, about the oral without condoms, the apartment, and W’s involvement in getting me away from Simon. I hadn’t mentioned anything about seeing W once I left Henry’s employment. I decided to leave that conversation for another day.

  “You’ve been a great boss,” I said. “A great agent. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”

  “The feeling is mutual. If you ever need anything down the line... If you want to come back...” His voice trailed off. “No, don’t come back. Go to school and study for a career that makes you happy. Don’t you dare come back.”

  “I’ll try not to.” I let out a long, relieved breath. “Thanks, Henry.”

  “You’re sure you want to keep seeing Mr. Cumming? I can tell him you’re done, if you feel done.”

  “No, I’ll see him.”

  He gave me a teasing look. “The magical orgasms. I remember.” He signaled the waitress for the check, then turned back to me. “You know, I have men at the agency too, in case you get lonely and horny during one of those late night study sessions. My guys are very good at what they do.” He emphasized the word very, drawing it out into a suggestive growl.

  “I’m going to be on a student budget,” I reminded him. “I won’t be able to afford your guys, for a while anyway. Whatever job I get out of college won’t pay as much as I made with you.”

  “So why are you leaving again?” He held up a hand before I could answer. “I know, I know. It’s clear you’ve thought this through.”

  We pushed back our chairs, stood up and hugged. He always smelled amazing, rich and classy like his escort business. He held me tight for long moments and patted my hair.

  “You’re going to make me cry,” I murmured into his chest.

  “I’m the one who should be crying,” he said. “I’m losing the legendary Miss Kitty. Too bad I’m not one of those evil pimps. I could just rough you up until I convinced you to reconsider your decision.”

  I gave him an accusing look. “I think deep in your heart you wish you were an evil pimp, instead of a big-hearted pushover.”

  “I’m not a big-hearted pushover,” he said, giving me a little shake. “I’m badass.”

  I buried my face in his chest again. “You’re super badass.”

  I heard his sigh, and felt it in the rise of his ribcage. “I’ll miss you when you go, Kitty darling,” he said, “but I wish you the best.”

  The Gramercy Park Session

  The Gramercy Park Hotel was gorgeous, full of art and glittering things. I got there early just to sit in the lobby for a while, with the grand chandelier and rich scarlet carpeting flanked by black and white tile. I’d been there a few times to see clients, but the old Chere hadn’t really appreciated how amazing it was. The new Chere noticed artistry and design.

  I watched the door. I’d come early enough that I hoped to see W arrive. I sat out of the way, but in view of the entrance, for the secret thrill of watching him walk across the lobby on his way to our date. Of course he’d look amazing, as always, in his dark, stylish business clothes. I wore a form-fitting, deep green dress. It was demure but not too demure. It was classically tailored and fit all my curves to perfection. I hoped he wouldn’t cut it off.

  I thought back to our first session, to my horror, my naiveté. My blindness. How angsty and stupid I’d been back t
hen. Maybe that was why he’d blindfolded me during our last session, so I could realize how far I’d come. He still scared me a little, but he thrilled me a lot more. He made me feel alive and strong, like I could do anything.

  I knew I had to tell him these things one day. Maybe not today, but someday I wanted to explain the ways he’d changed me and improved my life.

  His roughness, his violence had cracked me open somehow, made me all new and better, and his kisses had made me realize I was more than a whore. The first day, the very first day, he’d rejected Miss Kitty in favor of the real me. He’d preferred the real me, and was, in fact, the only client who’d ever wanted the real me. Somehow, he’d made me want the real me too.

  More than that, he’d helped me find the strength to leave Simon. My ex’s gallery show was about to close. I wondered if he’d thought any more about rehab, or if he was going to continue along his self-destructive path. If he was, I wasn’t going with him. I was on a new path now.

  After twenty minutes, I looked at my watch, and the room number Henry texted me. I would have liked to see W arrive, but he must already be waiting upstairs. Was he getting ready for me, thinking about me? Feeling hot for me?

  I tucked my bag under my arm and sashayed across the elegant space, smiling like a minx. The hotness came first. I had to let W run roughshod over my body and exorcise all his demons before I said anything about how much he’d come to mean in my life. That was the type of conversation to save for afterward, when he held me and gazed into my eyes, and made sure, with his gruff and awkward questions, that I was okay.

  I’m very okay, thanks to you.

  I took the elevator to the tenth floor and took a deep breath as I walked down the hall. He gave me the best butterflies. When I got to the door I raised my hand to knock, then I realized it was cracked open, propped on the bar lock.