Boyfriend for Hire

Ten

NicMy alarm blares, waking me from the most restless night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.

I roll over and glare at the clock. Six thirty. Time to get up, brush my teeth, hit the gym, shower, and head to work. Just a day like any other.

Except no part of me wants to do any of that. The idea of entertaining any woman who’s not Elle makes me want to hit something.

I sit up with a groan and stretch my limbs. My head is screaming like I pounded half a bottle of Scotch last night, and my entire body aches. I’m not normally a stressed-out person. But lately it feels like every muscle in my body is on edge, tense and ready for a fight that may or may not be coming.

My phone chimes again, reminding me it’s time to leave for the gym. If I don’t make it out the door on time, my schedule for the day will be to- tally thrown off. Case isn’t happy when I show up late for work, but if I’m being honest with myself? I don’t give a rat’s ass about how Case feels right now.

After stumbling into the kitchen, I make myself a cup of coffee, rubbing my temples to soothe the headache. I blend my usual protein shake, adding an extra handful of wheatgrass for good measure. I’m trying to gear myself up for work when it hits me—I should just cancel. There’s no way I’ll be useful to anyone if I feel this shitty.

I dial Case’s number and bring my phone to my face, wedging it between my shoulder and ear as I pour my smoothie into a glass.

“Hey, dude, this is an early call for you. What’s going on?”

At least Case sounds like he’s in a good mood.

For now.

“Hey, I just wanted to let you know I can’t come in today,” I say, keeping my voice low and gravelly. “I think I caught a twenty-four-hour bug or something, and I don’t want to get anyone else

sick.”

It’s not a complete lie. I do feel like shit. It just might be more psychosomatic than I’m letting on.

“What the fuck, Nic? I had you slated to meet with two different clients later, plus a pre-screen- ing interview this morning. How the fuck am I sup- posed to get one of the guys to cover on such short notice?”

“If you want me to infect all those nice women, I can push through it. I’m sure Jay from legal will be thrilled to hear you made that call.”

Case swears under his breath, and I can practi- cally hear him pacing around his office. Jay is a buddy of his, and also an attorney who’s gotten Case’s company out of a jam a time or two.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Nic, but you know I count on you. Please tell me this has nothing to do with that girl from the other night.”

Low blow.

“It’s nothing like that, I swear. I just need a day to make sure I’m not contagious.”

“Fine. But I’ll need you to pick up a few more clients this weekend. Maybe even a double shift.”

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. This conversation really isn’t helping the feeling like my head is about to explode. “Sure, whatever you need. Listen, I have to go. I think I’m about to up- chuck this smoothie.”

“Yeah, whatever, asshole. Thanks for royally screwing me over today.”

Thanks, dude. Hope you have a good day too.

I hang up and toss my phone on the couch with more force than necessary. I know I should feel worse about lying to my boss, but I have too many other things to worry about to let that weigh me down.

Well . . . one other thing. Elle.

Our coffee date yesterday was incredible. Part of me was hoping that seeing her outside of work, during the day, would break the spell. That we would meet up and the spark would be gone, the magic of a wedding weekend faded.

But the moment I saw her sitting at that table, a smile spreading across her face as she saw me, I knew that would never happen. Our connection wasn’t about the circumstances, although I’m sure

the fact that she thought I was an old friend of a friend helped. But despite all that, the meet-up went way better than I thought it would. And that just makes everything more complicated.

I pop a couple of ibuprofen and down a glass of water. I have to kick whatever’s going on with me. I’m not normally like this, not the kind of guy who gets taken out by a fucking headache. And definite- ly not the kind of guy to get hung up on anyone, especially not a client.

Honestly, I wish feelings were as easy to get rid of as headaches. Then at least I could take a couple of pills and be done with it.

I like her, actually like her, and it’s a position I haven’t found myself in in a very long time. Years. It’s new, and honestly, it’s refreshing.

I decide to hit the gym anyway, even if I’m not heading to work later. Running will probably make the headache worse, but I think swimming a few laps might help. Something about the water always makes me feel a little better.

I throw a pair of trunks into my gym bag and hop in the car. A workout will be good. Clear my head a little.

But even with my body gliding through the

cold pool water, I still can’t shake these thoughts about Elle. It’s like she’s worked her way into my bloodstream, and it feels like no matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking about her. There’s something oddly cathartic and ironic about this situation—and Elle, if I think about it.

Maybe the problem is simpler than I originally thought. Maybe the fact that I’m keeping myself from her is making this whole situation seem a lot more exciting than it really is. I spend time with beautiful women who want to fuck me all the time. The only thing that makes this one any different is that I won’t let myself have her.

So maybe that’s what I have to do. Ask Elle out, sleep with her, and be done with it. I should know better than anyone that anticipation makes cocks harder and panties wetter.

That’s what I have to do, then. Set up a proper date, one I’m not getting paid for. If it’s not work, then all bets are off. No rules, no policies to keep in mind. Just two adults acting on the natural chem- istry between them. And once the mystery of what Elle Alexander is like in bed is broken, I’ll be free of her, free to move on with my life and go back to business as usual.

Problem solved.

At this epiphany, I stop swimming and climb from the pool to towel off. Right then, I grab my phone and consider shooting off another text to Case. I don’t like the idea that he’s pissed at me. Yeah, he’s my boss, but he’s also a friend.

Unsure what I’d even say, I stuff my phone into my bag and head to the locker room to get dressed. Once I’m changed and on the drive back home, my mind drifts back to when I first started working for Case.

It’s been a crazy six years, and he’s always trusted me, always believed in me—maybe even when he shouldn’t have.

I remember the week I started working at Al- lure. I didn’t know it at the time, but the mother- fucker set me up to find out how talented I was (or not) in the bedroom. I should have seen right through this, but I was twenty-two and horny, and basically, I fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

Case, Ryder, and I went out to a nightclub to- gether one night. It was a typical Friday for us, and there was nothing out of the ordinary—except for the fact I’d just started working for him.

We each ordered a whiskey and sipped them while Case and Ryder entertained me with stories

about some of the women they’d met in this line of work, and all the crazy shit that was in store for me.

As we talked, I noticed an attractive woman at the bar watching me, bringing her straw to her lips and giving me bedroom eyes. At first, I was hesi- tant to leave my new boss to go approach her, but Case only laughed and shoved my shoulder, telling me to get my ass over there. He said he intended to keep me so busy that this might be the last time I had sex with a civilian for a while.

The woman was beautiful, about ten years old- er than me, and said she was in town only for the night on business. It was my first time being with an older woman, and there was a lot I liked about it. She knew what she wanted in the bedroom, was confident and charming, and we had a great night together in her hotel room.

The next morning, Gia, who turned out to be a friend of Case’s, reported every vivid detail of our encounter to my new boss.

“You suck at sex, dude,” he said when I entered

his office the next morning.

“That’s not what your mom said,” I joked. “Gia emailed me this morning with a very col-

orful critique.”

My eyebrows darted up. “What are you talking about?”

I’d had a couple of steady girlfriends and a handful of casual encounters with women I’d met on dating apps over the years, and as far as I knew, not a one had ever complained about my perfor- mance.

He only smirked. “You didn’t think I’d send you out there without some field-testing first, did you? Can’t have some lousy lay ruining the reputa- tion I’ve built my company on.”

“You talked to Gia?” I blurted, sinking into the leather chair in front of his desk.

He poked a finger at his screen and scrolled through a rather lengthy email. “You thrust too fast, your kisses were sloppy, and your foreplay needs to last longer. Oh, and the vagina is sensitive, dude. You don’t just ram your fingers or tongue right in there. You’ve got to tease her, build up to it, make her want it first.”

“Seriously? She said all that?”

He nodded. His face was impassive, and he didn’t look the least bit surprised.

I had no idea what this meant. I remember be-

ing worried that Case was going to fire me. And just generally feeling like shit because I thought she’d had a good time.

“I thought we had fun,” I murmured.

“Actually, she did have fun.” He pointed to his screen again, scanning the bottom paragraph as he read it out loud to me. “She said you were fun and playful, and had amazing potential with a little bit of coaching. Said you had a big dick too, though it’s not a detail I wanted to know.”

“Okay . . . so, what do we do?”

Case smiled and folded his hands on his desk. “Sex happens to be my specialty. I’ll teach you ev- erything you need to know, and then with your new knowledge, you’ll go rock Gia’s world. Once she says you pass, then I can start setting you up with clients.”

I nodded, feeling more than a little sheepish. “Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Case leaned back in his chair. “First, you need to understand how women think about sex. It’s a lot different from the way you or I probably think about it. If you really want her to enjoy herself, you need to pleasure her mind first, and then her body.”

I thought I got what he was saying. For me, sex was physical. I saw a hot girl; I wanted to take her to bed. Boom. End of story. At least, that was how twenty-two-year-old me operated.

When it came to Elle, clearly, I have a lot more self-control than I ever realized.

Case launched into a lecture, and I tried to ab- sorb every word. “It’s important to spend more time on foreplay than you think you need. It helps to tease her before, get her wet and build anticipa- tion. And as I mentioned, you want to start slow. The clitoris has eight thousand more nerve endings than a penis, so you want to use gentle pressure until she’s ready for more.”

Rather than feeling uncomfortable about the conversation, I recall leaning forward in interest. I knew that Case knew what the hell he was talking about, and he wasn’t trying to talk down to me. I could tell he legitimately wanted to help me.

“How will I know she’s ready for more?” I asked.

“You’ll be reading her reactions. Everything will be about her pleasure—not yours. You’ll listen to her cues and watch for her responses, and then you can build up from there.”

We spent three hours going over every detail that would make me, ultimately, a much better lov- er. From little things, like when you’re fucking a girl in missionary position, not to just balance on top of her with your forearms on either side of her shoulders. Instead, you should place one hand on the back of her neck and the other under her shoul- der, increasing your skin-to-skin contact. Then we moved on to bigger things, like making sure you build trust and rapport with her to make her feel as comfortable as possible before you get into bed together.

More than just learning about sexual techniques and positions, Case taught me a lot about how to talk to women, how to use open-ended questions and make the conversations about them—their hopes, dreams, motivations, and things they love to do.

“And Nic?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t worry. No one’s ever passed Gia’s test

on the first try.”

His words made me feel slightly better.

The following day, I met with her for another encounter, this one a very hands-on instructional

meeting, and I passed with flying colors. After that, I began meeting with clients, and have been hard at work ever since. Pun intended, I guess.

I don’t recall ever taking a day off unexpect- edly like this in the last six years, except for that time I had food poisoning. And as soon as I work Elle out of my system, I know I’ll be right back to fucking my way through Case’s clientele, making us both very rich men.