Among Ash and Ember: A New Adult Romance Page 2

  With Isobel’s boss, Maria, offering to help find clients, I’ve been able to go on legitimate dates, rather than navigating my way alone, which could be dangerous. She’s been welcoming, and I’ve allowed myself to trust her. Perhaps I shouldn’t rely on someone so soon after meeting them, but she’s given me references from previous escorts who worked for her which set my mind at ease.

  Unlike the other girls, I work for myself and I don’t have some pimp trying to steal my money. Maria allows me to keep all my earnings. The alternative would be giving someone else power over me, and that’s not something I want to experience ever again.

  A long time ago, after I was thrown in the orphanage, they put me into the system. I thought I’d be lucky. I was sent to a woman who was begging for a daughter to love.

  Love was what she called it.

  Abuse was what it truly was.

  She was kind to me for a while, buying me pretty dresses, paying for my schooling with the money she received, but then she turned on me, and I had no way of getting out. The catalyst was when her boyfriend decided she wasn’t who he wanted anymore, and she found him on top of me one night. She didn’t believe me when I told her the truth—how he’d pinned me down. I recall the pain, the searing heat, and the agony that came with having someone steal a part of you that you could never get back.

  Shaking my head, I open my eyes and push off the small single bed. The metal groans from the movement and I make my way to the closet. I pull it open, to find the right shoes which will go with the dress I bought at the secondhand store two days ago. It’s not new, but it’s pretty, and the color of burnt orange, reminding me of the glow of sunset on the horizon. Deep, vibrant, and intense.

  Underneath I’ll wear a black thong and bra to match. None of my clothes are new. The last time I got something from a boutique store was a lifetime ago when my father was playing his game of keeping up with the neighbors. To ensure everyone thought we were on the same level, he bought me everything I ever asked for. And it was all paid with credit.

  After slipping down the pair of shorts I’m wearing, I step out of them and chuck them into the laundry basket. Perhaps tonight I’ll make enough to go to the launderette tomorrow.

  The dress is a silky material which slides over my slight curves. My tiny breasts don’t offer much cleavage, but they will have to do.

  At almost nineteen, I’ve been mistaken for a girl of sixteen. My springy brown curls hang down to the middle of my back, and I allow them to frame my face. My oval-shaped eyes no longer shine like they used to; now they’re just a lackluster gray.

  The thin straps of the dress hang over my shoulders, and the slight flare of the skirt allows my legs freedom, with the hemline sitting mid-thigh. It’s pretty, and not overly sexy, but most of the men in the hotel I frequent know I’m not as seductive and experienced as Isobel. Or the other girls. Some of them are returning customers. Others just want to enjoy a good night out without their wives finding out. I don’t care, as long as they pay.

  “Flame!” Isobel’s shout comes from the other side of my bedroom door. My only friend in this place must be ready to go. She knows her way around, and the thought of her accompanying me this evening sets my nerves at ease.

  You’d think I wouldn’t be nervous about meeting new people in my line of work. But every time I walk into the hotel bar and settle myself on a stool, it’s there—the anticipation, anxiety, and the fear of not making it home that night.

  “I’m coming,” I call back, picking up the small silver purse she bought me as an early birthday present. I’ve given myself a goal to work toward. Twelve months. By the time I’m twenty, I’m hoping to move out of this place. My plan for college is on track. I just need a few more clients to sign up regularly, and I’ll be able to pay half the scholarship for my first year of school.

  Isobel wants to celebrate with me in a couple of weeks. She told me my birth should be a celebration, but all I really want to do is hang out in my room, drink cheap wine, and talk about the clients we meet that evening. Perhaps I’ll be able to persuade her to change her mind.

  Taking one last look in the mirror, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to be Katerina again. Even though I’m determined to leave this place, I doubt I could ever be the carefree girl I once was.

  I’ve learned how ugly the world can be.

  And nothing can bring you back from those experiences.

  When I finally step out of my bedroom, I find her standing on the landing with her hand on her hip. I offer her a nervous smile and follow her as we head down the stairs and out onto the road.

  One day, it’ll be the last time.

  One day, I’ll find myself again.

  But until then, I have to work to live.

  Ash

  My gaze lifts the moment they walk into the bar. Frederik Larson, one of my employees, sits opposite me. He’s talking, but I don’t hear what he’s rambling about. My attention is on the two beauties who’ve just entered the lounge. They’re both beautiful, but my eyes lock on the one in orange, the color of burning flint. The shade deep and rich, reminding me of the glow of embers, which makes me smile.

  How fitting.

  She sidles alongside her friend, perching her ass on a stool in the corner. Clever girl. From there, she can watch the room.

  It’s no secret as to what they’re doing here. Not because they don’t look like they belong in the hoity-toity crowd, but because I’ve seen her here before. I may not frequent the hotel, I only come here for the occasional meeting, but each time I’ve been over the past six months, I’ve seen her.

  Mondays and Fridays.

  On the other days, she’s at another hotel. They’re smart, meeting clients at different venues. I’ve known her boss for several years, and their comings and goings are the one thing I can certainly count on. Maria allows me to choose the girl I want in exchange for locations.

  The beauty in orange glances around, taking in the room. My gaze is glued to her. Once she’s focused on her friend again, she sips her drink, but I note how her eyes still roam the space. The corner of my mouth kicks into a smirk at the thought—beautiful and intriguing. That begs the question which has been plaguing me since the first time I saw her.

  Why would a woman like her do what she does?

  “And that’s what we should be looking at, Mr. Addington,” the old man tells me, catching my attention with the last bit of whatever he’s just muttered about our plans for expansion. The company needs it, but before my father died, he was adamant about not allowing this asshole to run things. So in his will, he had a clause that my brother, Ember, and I would run Addington and Associates with Frederik Larson as an overseer.

  Frederik can offer his opinion, but it’s mine or my brother’s signature that will seal the deal. Hence the reason Frederik’s brought me here to buy my agreement with expensive whiskey and caviar, along with a woman for the night. Most of the board know about my proclivities, but they can’t vote me out of running my father’s company because my name is on the door. Father trusted me, and even though I’ve done some questionable things, I’ve never let it interfere with my work. The clause in his will states that if the company suffers, I will step down, allowing Ember to take over. So far, I’ve behaved. Somewhat.

  I glance at Frederik who’s going on about money and me allowing him to run the financial side of things alone. I know why he’s asking because he wants to siphon what doesn’t belong to him. The expensive looking box on the table is evidence that he’s trying to buy my vote.

  He doesn’t realize that an Addington cannot be bought.

  We do the buying.

  We own the city.

  I rise, then button my suit coat. Casting my glance toward him, I offer my hand and make sure he knows who’s in charge. “Thank you, Fred. I’ll be in touch.”

  “But—”

  “Meeting’s over,” I tell him, knowing I need to play him at his own game. Also, there’s a certain someone I’d like to o
wn for the night. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow in the office at eight.” I turn and leave him spluttering at my back, but don’t offer anything more.

  When I reach the bar, I tap it twice, catching the barman’s attention. He offers a nod, anticipating my drink before I even have to voice my order.

  My gaze may be on the man mixing my drinks, but my attention is firmly locked on the woman I’ve asked Maria to send here for the night. The girl’s lips quirk at her friend as she lifts a glass to her mouth, which captures my attention.

  “Here you go, Mr. Addington.” The barman grins as he sets my tumbler down.

  “How about a bottle of champagne for the ladies in the corner,” I tell him. It’s not a question; it’s a command. He nods, moving swiftly to grab one of the most expensive bottles and two crystal flutes, along with an ice bucket. I watch him work as he settles the bottle in the ice and heads their way.

  A conversation I can’t hear ensues, then he gestures with his head toward me. The girl in orange offers me a soft smile, shy, yet sensual. There’s something intensely erotic about her. She’s not at all like her overtly sexy friend. No, the girl I want is demure, and it makes my cock jolt with desire.

  Her full lips move as she says her thank you, lifting the flute to her mouth and taking a sip of the bubbly liquid. Her eyes are wide, beautiful, and they hold secrets I’m tempted to unlock. I want to delve deeper into her mind and learn about the girl underneath. Surely she can do better than to whore herself out. When I noticed her on the website, even though I couldn’t see her face clearly, I knew she had to be the one I’d been searching for. I was in disbelief at this beauty, attempting to put herself through school by selling her body.

  Gulping down my drink, I head their way. As soon as I reach them, the giggling and whispering stop, and they both pin me with heated gazes. But I don’t take notice of her friend; my eyes are on her.

  “I trust you’re enjoying the evening?” I question her, not even turning to look at the girl in the skimpiest dress I’ve ever seen. Her fake tits practically jump out as she leans toward me in an attempt to capture my attention.

  “Thank you,” the little flower whispers shyly. Once more, my zipper is starting to pain me as my cock throbs, begging to get a taste of the action. Aching to see just what lies beneath that silky material of her dress.

  “Are you here for the night? Or…?”

  “Uhm,” she mumbles. “I’m . . . Well. . . if you’re looking for company, I—”

  “Yes,” I interrupt her, offering her my hand. She gently slides her delicate one in mine, and I can’t stop myself reveling at her smooth skin. “Let’s get comfortable,” I suggest. Tugging her along with me, I continue to ignore her friend.

  I notice my beauty for the evening glance over her shoulder. Her mouth moves, but there’s only silence, and I can’t help but smirk. She’s nervous. She should be.

  I lead her to a small booth at the back of the bar area. From here, we can see everyone, but they can’t see us. It’s not my first go with one of the working girls in my city, but it’s the first time I've dared to talk to her.

  “I’m Flame,” she murmurs shyly.

  “Intriguing name.” With a smile, I lean in to whisper in her ear. “What’s underneath your dress, Flame?” The word on my lips drips with desire, and I notice her little shiver when my hot breath fans over her exposed skin. Goosebumps rise on her shoulder, making the smoothness disappear, and I’m tempted to trail my tongue along her collarbone to feel her shudder once more. So pretty, innocent, and far too sweet to be here.

  Her fingers tremble when I suckle her earlobe into my mouth.

  “Because you’re not here for a few drinks with a friend. Are you?” I ask.

  “I’m . . . here to work,” Flame retorts heatedly, which makes my cock respond in kind, throbbing against my zipper again. “If you have a problem with it—”

  Her words are cut off when I bite down on the lobe, scraping my teeth against the sensitive flesh, earning me a soft whimper. I know I have her right where I want her.

  This pretty flower is no match for me.

  I’m an expert.

  A predator.

  And she’s merely my prey.

  “Room nine three six,” I tell her, sliding a keycard over the table toward her. When I lift my hand, I gesture with my chin toward the plastic object. “If you want work, I’ll ensure you’re paid very well. More than any man in this place can offer you.”

  Leaving her at the table, I head toward the bar, tipping my fingers to the barman in thanks before making my way to the elevators. The silver doors gleam with my reflection. Taking in my messy hair, I decide to get a haircut at some point. But then again, I love the just-fucked bed head look, so perhaps I’ll take a page out of Ember’s book and leave it as is.

  When the elevator arrives, the doors slide open, spewing out a handful of guests and I step inside. Before I’m shut in the car alone, a slender body draped in orange slips through the small space between the closing doors.

  “You accepted my offer.”

  “I need the money,” she tells me honestly, shamelessly, and my respect for her has just been notched up by another two points. Life is a game, and if you don’t play your cards right, you’ll never win.

  I don’t look at her, keeping my focus on the red numbers that tell us which floor we’re passing with every ding of the bell. “It takes courage to do what you’re doing.”

  “More like desperation.” Her voice grips me for a moment before I shake it off. That’s one thing I never do: pity. Feeling sorry for someone doesn’t give them confidence; it brings them to a point where they seek out sympathy, begging for a handout at every turn.

  This girl, barely a woman, has probably been through more in her short life than I have in mine. And she’s here, standing in an elevator with a stranger, ready to go into a hotel room to get fucked—all for a wad of cash to presumably pay her rent.

  Or her boss.

  That thought makes my blood boil.

  Why? I have no idea.

  “And does your pimp know you’re in one of the city’s most expensive hotels seeking your paycheck?” My voice is tight with frustration, jealousy, and anger, but she doesn’t shy away from me. Instead, she sighs.

  Flame turns to regard me with stormy eyes. “I work alone. This life”—she gestures to her ensemble—“is temporary. As soon as I can get out, I will.”

  I’m silent for a moment, pondering her words before I respond. “Like I said earlier—courage.”

  Before she can offer an answer, the doors slide open, and we walk onto the ninth floor.

  I lead her with merely a touch to her lower back toward my room. The only suite in the hotel I ever stay in. When we reach the door, I slide the card into the slot and push it open. After ushering her inside, I shut us into the large space.

  Leaning against the wooden entrance, I cross my arms in front of my chest and silently watch as she slowly makes her way deeper into the living room area. She doesn’t look scared when she regards me again. Her eyes shine with anticipation. And I wonder if it’s because I may be younger than her other clients, or perhaps she finds me attractive. I am certainly very fascinated by her. My cock is hard; it’s ready to fuck her all the ways to Sunday, but I’m hungry to know more. Her mind intrigues me, and I’m dying to dip into the darkness.

  I want to learn all about this princess who’s taken a chance on a bastard like me.

  Katerina

  He stands there, looking at me as if I’m the most beautiful woman in the world. It’s strange to have someone look at you, so different, to how you assume, everyone else sees you. It’s as if he’s staring right through me, seeing into my hidden depths, into those dark corners where all my secrets hide.

  “You’re trembling,” he observes with a smile. There’s a mischievousness to his expression, and I wonder just how old he is. Perhaps closer to my age than any other man I’ve been with.

  He moves away fro
m the door, and I watch as he saunters confidently toward me. Every step is calculated, and I have a feeling this man doesn’t do anything just for the sake of it; he has a reason behind everything he does, from the way he shoves his hands into his pockets, to the way his head dips to the side as he regards me. Eyes the color of a cloudless sky watch me.

  I’m not sure what to do with myself, so I fiddle with the strap of my bag. It’s a nervous tick I’ve always had. My heart is thudding in my chest, attempting to break free and fall at my feet. It’s the first time I’ve taken a man up on his offer of more than a date, and I’m unsure of what to do next. How does this work? I feel so inexperienced right now, it causes my cheeks to heat in embarrassment.

  He’s probably used to girls like Isobel. They know how to please a man. I’ve never been with anyone like this, not when I’m getting paid, and that thought makes my chest ache. This is my life now. If I want to make sure my bills are paid and finally get myself into school, I have to earn money. Big money.

  Needing to keep my hands busy, I find my fingers twirled in the strap when he stops only inches from me. He’s at least a few heads taller than me and about three times the size of me, and my heart leaps into my throat. Breathing becomes difficult as I struggle to find the air to pull into my lungs. His gaze is luminous as he regards me.

  Can he tell I’m practically a virgin at this?

  Am I merely a toy in his room?

  Something he could use and discard?

  His lips curl slowly as if he’s enjoying my fear. The pupils in his eyes dilate like he’s a predator ready to pounce.

  “I’m not scared of you,” I tell him, my voice calm, steady, but I can’t stop shaking. It’s a lie, and I know he can see right through it. He tips his head to the side, observing me, making me feel like a piece of art he’s thinking of purchasing.