VAIN
Part One
By: Deborah Bladon
Chapter 1
"You're staring at my dick."
I am. I can't even deny it. I guess I can come up with some excuse. Maybe I can pretend to be my best friend, Sadie, and say that I'm studying to be a doctor and I'm doing a thorough, visual exam of his enormous, erect penis. Who answers the door naked? He must have been masturbating. Do people do that? Do they masturbate while they wait for a sandwich to be delivered?
"Sweetheart. Up here." His hand floats past his crotch and my eyes slowly drift along with it, like I'm a fish dangling on a hook.
"What?" My voice isn't my own. I sound all breathy and aroused.
"How much?" He motions towards me and I reel myself back into the reality of the moment. After I finished my dinner with Sadie and her husband, I offered to deliver the sandwich for them when their regular delivery guy went home sick. Knowing the owner of Axel Boston certainly had its perks. I got a free dinner and now this. No tip required at all. Thank you, sir with the naked cock.
"You already paid," I say as I try to keep my gaze focused on his dark brown eyes. The hair on his head almost matches the color of his eyes, which matches the hair that surrounds his…
"No." He walks towards a large round table in the foyer of his apartment. Technically, it's the penthouse since I had to ride the elevator with the doorman and his special key. I wonder what this guy does for a living that affords him the luxury of living here. Maybe he's a porn star. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Alexa," I offer. "What's your name?"
He turns quickly as he stops dead in his tracks. I was admiring his perfectly sculpted ass until he turned back around and now I get to stare at his cock again. I might have to take that job delivering sandwiches after all.
"My name is none of your f*cking business," he barks at me.
I take a step back when I realize that I've offended him. The fact that I'm practically drooling all over his naked body doesn't bother him at all, but when I ask his name he flips out? I'll just pretend that I can't hear him and use the rest of the time at the door to soak in his body before I go home and tease myself for hours until I…
"How much?" His voice interrupts me yet again and I wonder now if maybe he doesn't understand English.
"I said," I speak loudly and slowly. "You. Already. Paid. For. It."
"Get your pretty little ass in here." He grabs me by my arm and yanks me into his apartment. I turn and stare as the door flies shut behind me.
"I have plans." I tap my black stiletto impatiently on the marble floor. I was supposed to drop off this sandwich and then meet some sorority sisters for a welcome back party. This is only my second night back in Boston after being in Paris for months. I need some good, old-fashioned American fun.
"You're going to bail because of it, aren't you?" He turns and stares right through me. "I'm paying you to f*ck me. It's going to be worth it, Alexa."
"What?" I steal one more glance at his cock before I decide that being called a two-bit floozy isn't worth the chance to get f*cked by that. "What the hell is your problem?"
"Women like you always bolt when they see it." His voice is deep and low. It bites right through me. "The agency said you'd be fine with it when I requested a blonde."
"I brought you a sandwich." I throw the bag at him and it bounces off his muscular chest before it falls to the marble floor. "Your hooker isn't here yet. I'm not her."
"You brought me a sandwich?" He stares at the crumpled mess on the floor. "I thought you were someone else."
"Obviously," I shoot back as I turn on my heel to leave. "For the record, I wouldn't bolt seeing a cock like that normally."
"I wasn't talking about my dick," he growls.
I pivot back and stare at him. "What then?"
"The scar," he hisses as he tilts his head back. "Women always run when they see the scar."
"What scar?" I've stared at his cock long enough to realize that it's perfect and scar free.
"This scar." His hand jumps to his face before his index finger traces a line down a scar running the length of his cheek.
"Is that why you walk around with your cock flying every which way?" I turn the doorknob in my hand. "It's a good tactic."
"Alexa," he says my name just as I'm stepping over the threshold into the hallway. "Stay."
"Excuse me?" I suck in a tight, fast breath. "I told you I'm not your hooker."
As if on cue, the elevator chimes its arrival. I turn to look, half expecting to see a slut with an over-the-top back-combed blonde wig, blue eye shadow and a leopard print mini skirt stepping off. I'm stunned by the beautiful woman who thanks the doorman before her eyes lock with mine. She's petite, elegantly dressed and her hair is cut into a fashionable blonde bob.
"There are two of you?" The British lilt in her voice makes her that much more attractive. I guess I shouldn't have taken such strong offense at being called a call girl. I thought I looked hot tonight, but next to her I look like a rank amateur. The short black halter dress I have on pales in comparison to the tailored red shift dress she's wearing.
"No." I shake my head a little too vigorously. "I'm not part of this. I'm leaving."
"That's a shame." Her brown eyes run slowly over my body and I realize that she's game for just about anything. I'm not. The only game I want to play tonight involves my battery operated boyfriend and mental images of the naked man she's about to jump into bed with. Three is definitely a crowd for me.
"Wait." His low voice is edged with a plea. "I want to ask you something."
"Are you talking to me or blue eyes?" The beautiful blonde's eyes narrow as she turns towards our naked host. Blue eyes? I've been called a host of things in my life but that's a new one. Given the fact that our body shapes, hair color and height are almost on par, I guess the one distinguishing factor is our eye color. Good on her for noticing a small detail like that when there's a loose cock in the room.
"You can go." He pushes past her and walks out into the hallway to where I'm standing next to the now closed elevator. I have to give the doorman props for not reacting at all when he caught sight of the resident of the penthouse without any clothing. He didn't bat an eyelash as he stood silently watching the doors close before the lift whizzed back down to the lobby. Maybe it's a regular occurrence here. Maybe I need to look for an apartment in this building. The only men I've seen naked in my building are the ones I bring home. I can't say any of them have been as memorable as this man.
"You pay whether or not you play." Her accent has suddenly vanished in wake of his dismissal.
He casts his eyes down at her before he grabs my arm. "Alexa, come back in inside."
"Is that your real name? Are you new?" His scheduled companion for the evening is full of questions that I don't want to answer. "Who do you work for?"
Is she serious? That’s the second time tonight I've been mistaken for a prostitute. "I don't…" I trail as I search the air for what should come next. I don't turn tricks? I don't sleep with men for money? I don't know how I ended up talking to a gorgeous naked man and a call girl?
"How much?" he barks at her as he guides me back into his apartment.
"Fifteen hundred and a generous tip are always appreciated." Her perfectly manicured hand dashes out in front of her to wait for the offering.
"A tip?" He rifles through a drawer in the foyer table and pulls out a sizeable wad of cash. "You didn't even strip."
"I can change that," she purrs as she turns in front of me. "Blue eyes, unzip me."
I take a step back. I'm not touching her or her overpriced dress. I reach into my clutch for my smartphone. Maybe if I appear busy these two will keep their bartering to themselves. The only message I have waiting for me is one from Sadie, thanking me again for delivering the sandwich. I should be the one thanking her.
"Keep your clothes on." His voice is thick and measured. "Here's your money."
She gleefully scoops the money into her palm and turns to walk out the still open door of his apartment. "Thanks, baby and for the record, I love tattoos."