Kinky Thinking Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Kinky Thinking

  ISBN # 978-1-78184-112-9

  ©Copyright Natalie Dae 2012

  Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2012

  Edited by Stacey Birkel

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2012 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

  Warning:

  This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 2.

  This story contains 93 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 9 pages.

  Fantasies Explored

  KINKY THINKING

  Natalie Dae

  Book three in the Fantasies Explored Series

  Things spiral out of control, and Suzie and Jack find themselves in danger, the business end of a gun pointing in their direction…

  Jack, an escort worker, hasn’t stopped thinking about Anna since he joined her and her husband, Kline, for a ménage. He’s longed for her, wished she was his, but doesn’t expect to ever see her again—although he lives in hope. To his surprise, she requests him as an escort again at a hotel called The Libra, alone this time, but he’s unable to comply with her very explicit wishes.

  Fellow escort worker Suzie also has a client at The Libra. Their meeting takes a turn for the worst and she stumbles home, alone and frightened and wishing she had her friend Jack to comfort her. The following night, when Suzie tells Jack about her experience, she doesn’t expect him to rush off to confront the client.

  Jack doesn’t expect to bump into Anna again either, much less for Suzie to be called out to a meeting with Anna. Anna asks Suzie to join her in a mad scheme to catch Suzie’s father, her ex and her attacker on a taped conversation about an illegal arms deal…

  Chapter One

  It had been months since Jack had spent that precious hour or so with Anna and her husband, Kline. Sharing sexual experiences with other couples wasn’t anything unusual. It was Jack’s job. He got paid to fuck another man’s wife while the husband either sat and watched while jacking off, or joined in himself. No biggie. It paid the damn bills, and he usually walked away without looking back.

  Usually. Until Anna.

  She’d stirred something in him like no other, and that was dangerous, wasn’t it? She belonged to someone else—and, man, Kline had made that pretty clear right from the start. Jack could touch when told to but not before. He could fuck Anna’s asshole because Kline had said it was all right, but if he’d taken matters into his own hands? Christ, he’d have been tossed out of their hotel room, no doubt about it.

  Memories from that night haunted him regularly, and Jack had to bite his tongue to stop himself groaning. Yeah, he had it bad, and when he was called out to the reception desk at the escort agency and it wasn’t Kline requesting another meet, it took him a couple of hours to get over it. Why torment himself, though? He wasn’t going to fuck Anna any time soon—if at all. He ought to just get the hell on with his job and forget her.

  Difficult, that.

  He showered, indulging in a few memories of her before he vowed to oust them from his mind for good. There was no point filling his head with her for the better part of his free time when nothing could come of it. She’d affected his day-to-day life, sneaking into his thoughts the way she did, and if he wanted to move on, find a love of his own, having her there wasn’t going to do him any favours.

  Love. What was that? He didn’t love Anna. No, he loved the idea of loving her, of taking her when he wanted to, not when directed. He loved the idea of dating her, having her fall for him, then getting to know everything about her. But it wasn’t possible. He’d seen for himself how much she adored her husband and he her. The man had hired Jack because of a fantasy Anna had had. Kline would do anything for her—that was all too clear. What woman in their right mind would give that kind of guy up for someone like him—a man who sold his cock for a living?

  It didn’t sound too great, did it?

  But that wasn’t who Jack was, not really. Yes, he was able to get hard with any woman—lately he imagined he was fucking Anna every time—but it wasn’t what he wanted anymore. The work paid well, though, and he was reluctant to give the money up. He had a penthouse, for fuck’s sake, a car most men could only drool over and clothes that weren’t off the rack.

  He soaped his body, watching Anna dance behind his closed eyelids—a sensual, beguiling sway that had his dick hardening. He grasped himself, a tight and unforgiving grip much like her asshole had been. Fuck, he could come just from thinking about it, no masturbation, nothing.

  Yeah, he definitely had it bad.

  Infatuation was a terrible thing.

  He jacked off but didn’t allow himself to come—that would be later if his client requested it, and they almost always did. As though they needed him to in order to feel they were desirable. To feed their egos.

  He pushed Anna from his thoughts and opened his eyes, wondering what kind of woman he’d be sent to service tonight. It didn’t really matter. None of them appealed to him. They were just a job, someone who paid his wages. Or someone whose husband paid his wages. Didn’t those men mind? Or did it get their wives off their backs so they were free to go off and pay for a female escort themselves? He should stop asking himself why such beautiful creatures needed to hire a man. It was their business, but he suspected, due to their take-charge attitudes, they couldn’t handle a fifty-fifty relationship. Their dominance had become boring to him—same old, same old—and he struggled sometimes with doing as they instructed. A woman letting him do all the work appealed, but for him the agency tended to select those who loved dishing out orders.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  But if he gave it up, he’d miss the possibility of being told Kline requested his services for Anna again. He couldn’t risk that.

  * * * *

  He strolled into the glamorous building of Novaline Escorts, his shiny black dress shoes sinking into the plush cream carpet. Madeline sat behind the huge black marble desk as she always did—dolled up to the nines, so goddamn perfect. Every time he saw her he wondered whether she got into the shower after work and washed out all the hairspray that held her long auburn waves in place. Did she sigh with relief as she wiped off that mask of heavy makeup and became herself again? Or perhaps this visage was Madeline, an untouchable-looking woman who could only be approached if she smiled your way and invited you into her personal space. She had an air about her, one that went beyond look but don’t touch. She made even the surest of men nervous. Was she playing a role like Jack did?

  He approached the desk and waited for her to lift her head from the magazine she was reading and acknowledge him. She slid a French-manicured nail along a line of text besi
de a picture of Prince William’s wife—what was her name again?—until she reached the end of a sentence then raised her face, steely gaze meeting his.

  What the hell’s up with her? Hiding something, I reckon. Ice queen.

  Her eyes were an unnatural shade of green—got to be contacts—and she narrowed them, pursing her red-painted lips and ruining her beauty.

  “Anything come in for me yet?” he asked, hiding a grimace with a smile.

  “No.” She bent her head and resumed reading.

  Christ, what a bitch.

  Jack shrugged and pushed through the glass double doors to the right of her desk and walked down a short, wooden-floored hallway that led to the waiting room. There he’d find natural women, albeit made up and dressed to kill. His female colleagues didn’t have any airs or graces, smiled genuinely when they saw him and shared snippets of their lives outside of being an escort. He could deal with them, but Madeline?

  No fucking way.

  He strolled through the doorway at the end and found himself immediately swamped with smiling faces and jovial greetings. That was more like it.

  “Hey,” said Suzie, a beautiful, slim blonde who wore her hair short and sleek. She sat up straighter on one of the sofas and patted the space next to her. “Ready for a night of fun?”

  He plopped down beside her, making sure he kept his legs straight out in front of him so his black suit trousers didn’t crease behind the knees. It wouldn’t matter later, once he’d met with a client, but for now he had to remain as crisp as he could. He wasn’t in the mood for work tonight and wanted nothing more than to kick back and relax. Perhaps take Suzie out for a meal, give them both a break from this place. But it was too late now. He’d shown up, neither ready nor willing.

  Fuck.

  “No,” he admitted, smiling and taking in the smoky grey makeup on Suzie’s eyelids.

  “Me neither. I’m all pawed out this week.” She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

  He loved sitting with her like this. She didn’t expect anything from him but easy conversation and someone to cuddle with before they were called to work. He didn’t know that much about her, except that she had a bully of an ex and parents who were ashamed she was theirs. Other than also knowing she lived at a swanky address, didn’t have a boyfriend now and loved watching vintage movies, he knew a lot of fuck all.

  “Know what you mean.” He stared around the room at the other women, all gossiping and waiting for their jobs. What had made them choose this? Was it because they liked sex or had they been drawn into this seedy career out of necessity? “Suzie, do you need to do this job?”

  She lifted her head and looked at him, raising her finely plucked eyebrows and opening her mouth a little. “What made you ask that?”

  “I don’t know. Been thinking.”

  “About?” She hugged his arm and snuggled closer.

  “Whether doing this is preventing me living a normal life. Know what I mean?”

  “I live a normal life during the day.” She shrugged. “I watch movies, read, go into the city, although that isn’t often because you don’t know who you’re going to bump into.”

  “I get you. Clients. They’re everywhere.”

  She nodded, but it looked to Jack as though she hadn’t meant clients at all. It wasn’t anything to do with him, though. Maybe she’d meant her ex, her parents. She’d never said where they lived. For all he knew they could live down the road from her.

  “This is just a job to me, Jack. Money. I get to buy what I want, when I want. Then again, I always have.”

  “Really? Shit, that must be something. You grew up rich?”

  “Rich in money, yes, but not anything else.” She stared at the TV, probably seeing memories instead of what was on the screen.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said. What did she mean? He found himself wanting to know but didn’t dare ask. Some things were better off left in the closet.

  “Most of the time I just have to eat dinner with some guy then go home, even if they’ve booked me for sex afterwards. I used to get offended, you know, when they didn’t want to have sex. Thought it was something wrong with me, that I’d turned up and they were expecting someone else entirely. Some big-busted beauty. But now? I don’t care. This job…I switch off. Takes my mind away from other things.”

  Fuck it. He’d ask. “What things?”

  “Oh, you know. Life. How people see me. How I wish they’d see me differently. How I wish I didn’t have to—”

  “Have to what?”

  “Nothing. Just ignore me.”

  He sighed, thinking of how the public’s perception of the women here was totally skewed. Yeah, they did have sex with clients if it had been requested before their meet, but it was a freebie and the women had to be willing. So why did he nearly always, always have to fuck?

  “You tired of using your cock to make a living?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

  “Something like that. But—”

  “The money’s too good to let go, right?”

  The prospect of fucking Anna again is too good to let go. “Right.”

  “Same for me. I can’t not have the money. I’m saving. Need to make sure I have enough in case…”

  They lapsed into silence. Madeline’s voice barged out of the speakers interrupting every so often as she called the women to work. Suzie wasn’t summoned—not many men wanted a short-haired woman, it seemed—and they sat in comfortable quiet for an hour, Jack wondering why he was wasting his time, and Suzie… Well, she appeared happy enough to stare at the TV on the wall and watch the muted programme flicker from one scene to the next.

  “I’m going to fuck off in a minute,” he said, gripped by the sudden urge to get the hell out. “It’s ten o’clock. Usually called before now.”

  “Same here. But we’ll get paid the basics if we’re on site until eleven. Contracted hours and all that. Don’t fancy making nothing after sitting here all night. Not that I’d be doing anything riveting at home.”

  “I suppose.”

  The speakers crackled. “Suzie, please come out to the reception area.”

  Even the sound of Madeline’s voice was hard. Mean.

  “Guess I’ll be raking it in after all.” Suzie kissed his cheek, stood and straightened her short red dress. “You on tomorrow night?”

  “Yep. You?”

  She nodded. “See you then.”

  He smiled, leaned his head back and closed his eyes to wait out the hour. If a job didn’t come in, he’d fuck off home and get some much-needed sleep. There wasn’t anything else to do, was there? Other than kinky thinking.

  Chapter Two

  Suzie left Novaline and stood on the sidewalk, small handbag over her shoulder, wishing she’d thought to wear a jacket. Her red dress was sleeveless and short, definitely not the right thing for this cold season. The agency driver, butt pressed to the side of the car, tipped his hat, pushed off the vehicle, then opened the rear door. She settled on the back seat, pleased that her client was a man she’d met a few times before. Nice enough man, Mr Grayling.

  “The Libra, then,” the driver said.

  “Yes.” She hoped he didn’t want more of an answer than that—she needed the time before meetings to psych herself up.

  I thought I’d be used to this by now.

  She wasn’t. This hadn’t been the kind of job she’d envisioned for herself when she’d moved here to get the fuck away from Theo…and her parents. Yes, she’d known she wouldn’t apply for jobs in the hospital labs, but this… No, she hadn’t imagined earning money doing what she’d be doing tonight. If she gained employment in the medical field they would find her. Send someone to collect her. Take her back. She couldn’t stand that.

  Suzie shuddered, trying to keep the memory of her old life at bay. Useless thinking about what she couldn’t change. What was done was done. Time to look forward to the future.

  She laughed quietly. A future of opening my legs and g
etting paid for it. Hiding out. Looking over my shoulder until I’ve saved enough money to secure a life without being detected.

  Didn’t matter that she’d moved halfway across the country. Wherever she went, they’d catch up with her eventually. Their tentacles were long. She was a fool to think she’d find anywhere secure.

  Stop it.

  The driver pulled up to a stop light and she gazed out of the window. This street was unusually quiet, only two pedestrians about—a man walking his dog and a young lad with his hood up and hands thrust in his pockets. Both seemed intent on getting to their destinations fast. Back home where they were safe. She didn’t blame them. It was late, damn cold, and no one with an ounce of sense would choose to be out in this weather.

  The car jerked and she shot forward, flashing out a hand to brace herself on the headrest in front. The driver turned a corner, and the street where The Libra sat showed an altogether different scene. Lots of people were there, spilling out of restaurants or pouring in. Cabs cruising for fares. Nerves bunched in her belly, and she wondered why. She knew Mr Grayling, knew a little about him—or what he wanted her to believe anyway. He enjoyed playing golf sometimes and owned a large corporation. She’d doubted that when he’d told her—how many thirty-somethings got so high up, so fast? As if he’d read her thoughts, he’d told her about determination, how it got you places if you had enough of it.

  “Do you?” he’d asked. “Have you got what it takes to succeed in ensuring you get what you want? To be where you want?”

  She’d almost laughed. She had determination all right. Had it in abundance. Otherwise, how had she done what she had? Escaped. The only question remaining was whether she had enough guts to go through with the next leg. She’d have to do some research, find out where people went when they didn’t want to be found. This world was a big place. Surely there was one tiny corner of it where she could go, where she could relax and not have to look over her shoulder. Maybe she’d meet someone one day who knew about fake passports. It was the only way. If she used hers, she was sure her father or Theo would be alerted.