Free Succulence (Succulent Trilogy #1) by Lauren Lashley Page B

reciprocate in any way, although I was tempted when he pulled out his package and began stroking it for his release. If he wanted to make it up to me, there’d be no reciprocation on my part. And this was a very nice jumpstart.
     
    I can’t lie. I wanted the D. I was nearly in tears from the way his oral worship had me under his mercy. But I couldn’t let him in that easy!
     
    Yes, I know, rejecting sex sounds pretty ironic coming from a whore, but the truth was I was an escort by profession, not DNA. I wasn’t doing escort work because I wanted to share my body with everyone. I was in a precarious situation financially, and I was doing what it took to gain control over it before I drowned under debt.
     
    Plus, in a sick and strange way, I was becoming accustomed to the easy money that came with escorting. I now held a subconscious feeling that men needed to “compensate” me for my time and attention. It’s weird to explain, because I was never a gold digger; but my new reality commanded a new perspective on how to view men and how I spent my time with them.
     
    ****
     
    Before escorting, a man simply had to be handsome, intelligent and ambitious. Jared was an aspiring entrepreneur who worked in finance when we met. His intelligent perspective on real estate and current events, coupled with his smoldering sensuality and fondness for sexual and culinary arts, made him an excellent match for my drive. When I was just simple girl slaving away at the campus bookstore, he saw my potential. He engaged me to push for the world to see it too. Unlike how others perceived me, I wasn’t just some pretty Barbie doll with huge tits and a vapid personality to him. I was gorgeous, sexy, sexual, intelligent and destined to do epic shit. The fact that the sex was awesome was simply the icing on the cake.
     
    These days, it was nearly impossible to look at a man without wondering what his limit was, what kind of crazy kinks he had behind closed doors, and what crazy, nasty mess he’d pay an escort like me to do for him when nobody was watching. If I wasn’t looking at a man sideways wondering about his sexual kinks, I was focused on trying to figure out if he was married and cheating, like a great majority of my clients also.
     
    Needless to say, so much about me had stayed the same since I had last seen Jared, but so many things had changed as well. While I was still sexual, in a way I was slightly hardened, jaded and a little less open and receptive to being fully made love to. It would take a much stronger, harder, sexually conscious man to rouse my passion.
     
    I couldn’t see myself committed to a man riddled with the endless closeted desires, dark passions and kinks my most lucrative clients possessed. Yet the more I got to experience their lusts, the more common I saw they were and the more fearful I became that I could never find that sexually relaxed and responsive man who didn’t need the help of an escort to live out his wildest fantasies.
     
    Sad to say, but as much as Jared had hurt me, I was sure I’d probably be the one doling out the hurt this time around.
     
     

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     
    I found Stacy crying in the handicapped stall. She was on the floor in the corner, tears coursing down her face with the stall open.
     
    “Oh my gosh! Stacy! What’s wrong?” I rushed to her side and put an arm around her.
     
    “I can’t fucking take this anymore,” Stacy wailed. Tears were streaming down her soft features, her nose was runny and red. “I hate him.”
     
    I already knew the answer, but I asked anyway. “Hate who?”
     
    “Dean!” Her shriek made me jump.
     
    “What happened?”
     
    Stacy swore me to secrecy, and then shared the details of her predicament. Her mom had gotten laid off, and a relative had passed.
     
    Her dad, however, had really set things off. He had been caught with his pants down, and while he’d already devastated her mom with his betrayal, things went from bad to worse