Dirty Morals Read online

  It’s been over a year since I’ve been with a man and the sight of a particularly gorgeous and likely well-endowed man sends an unwelcome shiver down my spine, right to the crux of my thighs. I can feel myself blushing, drawing myself from my reverie as I hear my phone go off again. ‘You’re cute when you blush’. Alarm bells go off in my mind and I glance up in an attempt to spot the man I’m supposed to be meeting here. There are very few men in the surrounding area and I’m somewhat disconcerted to see the laughing man watching me with a faint smirk. I swallow the lump forming in my throat, carefully raising my hand to wave at him. He pushes away from his table, apparently taking my attention as an invitation to approach. My mouth goes dry as he comes over. He hums to himself for a moment.

  “Not quite what you expected, I suppose,” he mused aloud. I raise a brow, facing him with confusion. I have no idea what on Earth he could be going on about and I’m beginning to wonder if he’s somewhat crazy. “Oh, where’s that sunny disposition?” He smiled and sat opposite me, sipping his coffee. I feel my eyes widen, nearly bulging from my skull in a way that couldn’t possibly be attractive.

  “You… you?” I sputter, cursing myself for how inarticulate I’m being. The handsome stranger’s lips curl into a sly smile and he offers his hand for me to shake.

  “My name’s Caleb. Caleb Robertson. It’s nice to meet you, Maggie,” he says with a smile. Disbelief surges through me and I can’t help thinking that this is some sort of trap or something. This man would have no problem finding women to spend his time with, why on Earth would he be anonymously purchasing escorts? He’s quite possibly the most attractive man on I’ve ever laid eyes on. His hair sweeps down in front of his eyes, the sandy blonde locks capturing that bedhead look in a way that had to be meticulously crafted. His eyes are the brightest brown eyes I’ve ever seen and God, his body! His arms are huge, his biceps peeking out from the sleeves of his casual t-shirt. I can’t even begin to imagine how large he is in other departments.

  “You can’t be serious,” I blurt, giving voice to the very thought that has been occupying me since he approached me. I’ve never had a particularly low opinion of myself, actually fancying myself something of a looker. Compared to him, however, I’m the one who looks like a potato. Alright, alright, nothing that dramatic, but the point stands. I’m short, albeit rather curvy for my size and I wouldn’t exactly stand out in a crowd. My brown hair and brown eyes, both a similar shade of dark chocolate, are my most notable features.

  Seeming to sense my internal dilemma, he tilts his head adorably and waves a hand in front of my face to catch my attention. He smiles warmly, his eyes dancing with amusement.

  “I know I’m not quite what you expected, but I didn’t think you’d react this negatively,” he chuckles. My cheeks reddening I avert my eyes, allowing my hair to obscure my face somewhat.

  “I wouldn’t call it a negative reaction. More of a surprised one,” I mutter nervously, unable to look at him lest I leap across the table and pounce on him right here in front of the other coffee shop patrons. Just looking at him is enough to drive me wild and God, I’m so horny. Just take me, strange man. “Caleb, was it…?” I continue, forcing myself to meet his gaze. He props his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on top of the coffee table.

  “I can imagine that you must have expected some sort of creep, considering where I messaged you. I was trying to think of the best way to approach you without scaring you off, but my cheekiness got the better of me,” he sighed. Even his voice is perfect, with just a bit of that Southern twang that’s so familiar in the surrounding area. I draw my lower lip between my teeth, pressing a hand discreetly between my thighs under the table. The faint pressure sends the blood rushing from my face down between my thighs and I’m stricken by how foolish I am. I expected the ache in my pussy to alleviate if I just… applied a bit of pressure on the right spot.

  I’m no virgin by any means, but the way my body is reacting to Caleb is entirely unlike anything I’ve felt before. I can’t imagine how I must look, reduced to a squirming mess on the opposite side of the table. His eyes are watching my every move and the sly glint reflected in them seems to indicate that he knows just what sort of effect he’s having on me. I exhale a sharp breath, drawing my hand away from myself and moving to wrap my hands around my coffee cup. Before I get the chance, he reaches out and grasps the hand that I had brought dangerously close to my most sensitive areas. He smiles, pretending to be oblivious to the added touch of warmth from where it rested between my thighs.

  “It… hah, it’s no problem. I was just a bit startled but…,” I trail off as he rubs his thumb along the back of my hand, shivers shooting down my spine. “Your cheekiness is no problem. I just thought, uhm. You would be more inclined to discuss your proposal,” I mutter, watching in fascination as he draws my hand towards his lips. My heart pounds in my chest as he kisses the back of my knuckles, his mouth lingering just a moment. I can only wonder if my scent coats my hand and if he’ll be put off by how… desperate I am. He seems to know just what he’s doing, however, his intentions painfully clear. Perhaps I wasn’t as discrete as I thought.

  “Well, you did say you were unwilling to agree to anything beyond meeting me. So, I thought I’d try to make a good impression before putting anything else on the table,” he murmurs, lowering our joined hands back to the table but keeping a firm grip on me. I feel myself growing flushed, driven nearly to the brink just by watching his purposeful movements. He flicks his tongue out to moisten his lips, humming almost appreciatively under his breath. My breath hitches and I become all too aware that this scene is going exactly to his plans. It’s as if he’s rehearsed this same conversation a thousand times, or perhaps repeated it with other women. As much as the thought should clear my head, reminding me of how sleazy this whole proposition is, I can’t help but find myself growing more flushed.

  “You made quite the impression,” I admit, not trusting myself to say anything more. He quirks his lips into a grin, releasing my hand. I yank it back towards myself, holding it to my chest in an attempt to steady my breathing and erratically pounding heart. I can feel the throbbing of my pulse below, down in places I can’t bring myself to mention. It’s all I can do not to drag him home with me, but I have to remember the whole reason we arranged this meeting. He wants to purchase my time, using me as a personal escort for the evening. Perhaps one evening, perhaps dozens, that much isn’t clear. “I’m willing to discuss things, now that we’ve…” I pause, stammering a bit. “N-now that we’ve gotten to know each other a bit,” I manage. Caleb looks much the part of the cat who caught the canary and it’s clear to both of us that I’m caught in his web.

  “I was hoping to book an evening with you, at my place. I think I’ve made my intentions clear enough, so I’m lobbing the ball into your court, as it were,” he replies. A voice inside my head screams for me to decline. It’s no longer my dignity alone that’s in question. To clarify, I’ve never felt this intensely about a man before in my life. Perhaps it can be attributed to the desperation of loneliness on my part, but I can’t help feeling as if I’m tiptoeing the line of strict professionalism; at least, professionalism as far as an escort service goes. I have to ask myself if I’m confident I can pursue this… working relationship of sorts, without developing feelings that so often accompany the activities in question. Then again, maybe I’m reading his signals completely wrong; maybe he wants my company for innocent reasons. After all, Kara had insisted that not every man on the site is seeking sex.

  Granted, as Caleb said, he’s made his intentions abundantly clear. To try and dismiss his actions here at the coffee shop as innocent would be a foolish venture. My actions haven’t been particularly chaste either, truth be told. His initial offer of five thousand dollars flashes in my mind, almost entirely forgotten until this very moment.

  This gorgeous stud of a man is looking to pay me five thousand dollars for a no strings attached night of pleasure. As much as I told
myself I would never consider the offer, I never expected to be faced with such a tempting host.

  “I’ll… I’ll do it. I’ll meet you at your place for, well, whatever you may need me for,” I say nervously, twiddling my thumbs together. His eyes are predatory, the goofily charming man I’d been texting replaced with a being of pure sexual energy. As he stands and circles around the table, it’s all I can do to keep from creaming in my panties just from his proximity. The smell of his cologne, the intent in his gaze as he lowers his face next to mine: it’s enough to drive me off the deep end. He traces a hand through my hair, brushing the locks away from my ear so he can speak in hushed tones that are meant for me alone.

  “What I need will be determined at a later date. As I told you, Maggie, I’ll take good care of you. Never let that come into question,” he purrs, his breath against my ears causing my toes to curl. When he draws away, that tightly wound spring inside my gut feels just ready to release. “Have a good day, now,” he says cheerfully, the brief glimpse of the beast inside disappearing for the time being. He turns his back on me, taking long strides down the street. I watch him go, squeezing my thighs together in an attempt to soothe my swirling thoughts and raging libido.

  “Ma’am, are you alright? Can I get you a refill?” A waiter asks nervously, his cheeks flushed. I realize abruptly how transparent I am and how obvious Caleb’s effect on me must be. I shake my head, rising to wobbly feet and turning in the direction of my apartment. The only thing keeping me grounded to the Earth right now is the fact that I have to play this situation just right. As handsome as he is, as much as I’m tempted by every facet of his being, I can’t allow myself to grow emotionally attached to Caleb Robertson. If agreeing to have sex with him was a bad idea, the idea of trying to forge a relationship with him could end catastrophically. It would literally be the worst idea ever.

  I assure myself, internally, that I’m strong enough to resist any emotional pull. After all, as smitten as I may feel by him, it’s only on a physical level. I may not have come into this potential agreement with the thought of enjoying it, but there’s no point in me needlessly suffering when I can thoroughly enjoy the time I’ll be stuffed full of that long, throbbing, aching…

  “Ugh! Fuck!” I scream, looking much the part of a madwoman as I continue the trek to my apartment. I’m doing this for the greater good, as I do everything in my life. The money from this little escort service could see that my mother and I are comfortable for some time at least. With doctor’s bills, it will likely evaporate before I get the chance to buy anything frivolous, but… it would help. It would help so much, goddammit. I realize that with all that’s on my plate, I could never make time for a relationship with a man beyond a sexual one. That doesn’t mean I should have to remain celibate for the rest of my life. Taking care of my mother comes first, always, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying a bit of private time with a cute guy; especially a guy cute enough and rich enough to disable my escort profile for.

  I certainly know I’ll be enjoying a good bit of private time with my hand as soon as I manage to make it home. God, I can’t believe the effect this strange man has had on me. All the same, I can’t lie and say I’m not enjoying it.

  What’s the worst that could happen, after all?

  3

  In spite of a valiant attempt to remain cool, calm and collected as I drive up to the address that Caleb had messaged me, my body quakes from the severity of my nerves. His penthouse apartment is located in downtown Atlanta and while I’m less than thrilled to make the drive, I’m absolutely sure it will pay off. I’ve not been given a definitive answer as to whether tonight will be the night Caleb makes love to– wait, no. I can’t entertain this notion of the act being any sort of love related activity. It’s raw and purely physical and can only be described as… to put it bluntly: fucking. At least, that’s the idea he’s given me. I refuse to allow my hopes to rise as high as to think he might fall in love with me, or something equally ridiculous.

  There’s already a steady throbbing making itself known between my thighs, just from the idea of seeing Caleb and having dinner with him. I intend to make it obvious what I want and expect for dessert. Stepping out of my car, I’m hyper aware of how goddamn huge this apartment complex is and I can only imagine what the penthouse looks like. I manage to swallow my nerves as I stride towards the building with exaggerated confidence. The confidence shrivels as soon as I step inside and see how classy this place is. You’d have to pull in millions a year to be able to afford a regular apartment at this ritzy complex, so I can’t even fathom the cost of the high rise penthouse. I step towards the special elevator lift for the top floor, tapping in the code that Caleb had assured would allow my entry. The door slides open and I step inside, exhaling a breath I only just realize I had been holding.

  As the elevator ascends, I struggle to steady my breathing. This entire situation seems so unbelievable, yet here I stand, rising to my handsome Casanova’s penthouse. A giggle spills past my lips, but as the door slides open to reveal the inside of the apartment, my mouth goes dry. The lights are dimmed just so, the telltale flicker of candlelight coming from his dining area. Swallowing a lump that is rapidly forming in my throat, I step inside and wonder how exactly to announce my presence. Before I can get too caught up in that thought, Caleb steps into the entryway and greets me with a charming smile.

  “I thought I would wine you, dine you… well, you know the rest,” he smirks. At the thought of us orally pleasuring each other, I press my thighs together against the onslaught of arousal. “Come, come on in. I actually ordered some takeout,” he says warmly before slipping back towards the dining area. I trail behind him, feeling much the part of some lovesick child. This is a thousand times more intense than mere puppy love, however. I want him so badly I can barely take it and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’d sleep with him regardless of the pay.

  Granted, five grand to fuck a hot guy is a good prospect either way. I smile to myself as I step into the dimly lit dining area and Caleb pulls a chair out for me. Sitting as daintily as I can pull off, I turn my eyes upon him. He simply smiles at me, shifting to his side of the table. The food is already spread out, a glass of wine sitting as if it has been eagerly awaiting my presence. I grasp the wine glass, taking a long swallow of the heavenly elixir. An appreciative moan spills past my lips and his expression darkens for a moment. The desire he’s turning upon me is almost tangible and it’s a struggle not to shift under his stare.

  “I hope you like Chinese,” he says casually, and I can only nod as I watch him bring a piece of sesame chicken to his lips. It’s almost laughable, the fact that he can make something as simple as eating dinner so sensual. I avert my eyes, admittedly eating like a bird for this first shared dinner. “Most places use that faux crab meat, but I only accept the real thing,” he continues, gesturing to a pile of crab legs sitting in a basket on the counter. As much as I’d like to sloppily slurp down the fishy meat, there’s another specific bit of meat with which I’m preoccupied.

  “I have to ask… is tonight… the night?” I stammer out, unable to eat anymore, even if I wanted to. He hums, slipping the tips of his fingers between his lips and sucking off the chicken sauce. I watch him with baited breath, wondering how on Earth he can be so calm.

  “I wanted to assure you that I’m going to take it easy on you, for our first night together. Nothing too…well kinky, unless of course, you ask for it,” he announces, as if he’s simply discussing the weather with a coworker. If I’d even considered that he may be interested in me, that thought has long since evaporated. It’s clear that he’s been around the block a few times, at least as far as these sort of situations go.

  “O-okay. That sounds amazing,” I breathe, pressing my palm between my thighs once more. Though it’s embarrassing, now that we’re alone together and his intent is clear, I feel less shame in openly touching myself. He watches me with a coy smile for a moment before pushing back from th
e table and blowing out the candle.

  “Shall we, then?” Caleb purrs, circling around the table in the near-dark and taking me by the hand. I clutch him like a lifeline, rising up on shaky legs. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, guiding me none too subtly towards the bedroom. His scent lingers heavily in the air, the almost piney aroma of his cologne especially prevalent. I wonder if I smell any better than a bitch in heat, with the way my pussy is already dripping. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least, turning to face me and continuing to drag me along behind him. He curls his fingers into the collar of my blouse, idly fidgeting with the top button. My stomach lurches with arousal and as soon as we’re in his bedroom, I force our lips together.

  Caleb jolts with shock at the kiss, but quickly relaxes into it. His tongue flicks out, touching the softest part of my lips and sending shivers down my spine. I draw away from him, keeping our eyes locked as I begin to unbutton my blouse. He watches me with a sly smile, not bothering to remove his clothes– at least, not yet. As my blouse falls away from me, I thank God that I chose to wear some of my more lascivious lingerie. Caleb steps forward, palming my breast through my bra. His touch is gentle, moving as if he has all the time in the world. He rubs his thumb to the hardening nub of my nipple, which stands erect and obvious even through my bra.