I’ll make you a deal. For every question you answer, you may ask one. And I promise to answer honestly…if you do.
Live long and prosper,
Captain Quinn
Oh no.
He was flirting.
And I…I was liking it very much.
My heart pounded in my chest while my mind reminded me that Matt Quinn made money flirting with women. He charmed women, took them into his bed, and fucked the ever-loving shit out of them, making them forget their pathetic lives for an hour at an extremely insane amount of cash.
My chest panged sorely as I thought about all the other women he’d bedded, but then I reminded myself that Quinn and I were destined to be friends, nothing more, which was fine by me. I would never be that woman. That woman would pine over a man she would never have. I was a realist. Men like Quinn didn’t fall for women like me. They fell for women with long blonde hair, big blue eyes, flawless skin, and legs that went on for miles.
Definitely not me.
I responded carefully, clinically, as though I didn’t have a care in the world and this was the kind of business I conducted.
To: Quinn@DFT.com
From: Minniemouse1987@outlook.com
Subject: Lily white Maya
Cap Quinn,
I’ll see to your terms and up them.
We each present two questions, but only one shall be answered. Sort of like a potluck.
As for your services, I am twenty-six years old and still a virgin. The thought of going out with men who have years of experience on me disheartens me. I don’t want to be seen as faulty or be at a disadvantage. I’d also like to feel like the grown-up I am.
I’d require you to take my virginity and teach me the basics of sex.
Is this something you can help with?
Maya don’t lie-a x
The email was sent. The gauntlet had been thrown. Next move…Matt Quinn.
Chapter Four
Quinn
I was being a shitty friend.
Harry was talking to me and I was being a putz, checking my phone every minute to see if Maya had responded. Then she did respond. As I read her short email, my cock jerked. I was sitting at a café with my best friend, and my dick was hard. Harder than a fucking rock.
A virgin. Untouched. Pure.
No shit.
I fought the urge to scrub my hands down my face and groan, and grunted a response to Harry.
Harry muttered, “You know, if you’re going to pretend to listen to me, you could at least accompany your grunt with a slight nod every now and again.”
I looked across the table to find him smiling at me. He nodded to my phone. “Who’s the lucky lady?”
Sighing, I shut off my phone and placed it back in my pocket. “Sorry, man. Just a client.”
Harry’s brows rose. “A client? I’ve never seen you turn into a goofball over a client before.”
I shook my head. “I haven’t met her yet, but she’s shy and funny. Really funny. And sweet. I asked to meet with her and she shut down on me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a shit; I’d leave it be. It’s her choice, after all. But this one…I didn’t want to let her go. We’ve been emailing back and forth all morning, and I gotta be honest here. She’s cool. If we hadn’t met through the agency, I think we’d be friends.”
But Harry’s smile dropped. “Dude…”
I rolled my eyes and waved it off. “I know, Har. I know. Believe me. As soon as I feel it’s getting too personal, I’ll cut her off.”
This did not placate Harry. “Trust me, Quinn. It’s not that easy. You’re taking this girl’s feelings, reciprocating them, making a friendship, and then when you realize it’s too much, you’re going to cut her off when you’re at fault? Shit. She’s probably got no self-esteem as it is, and you putting her to the side is going to make her feel like she’s done something wrong or being punished for something she didn’t do. You said she was shy. Girls like that are fragile.” He stared me down. “Shut it down now before you become attached.”
I sometimes forgot that Harry had been where I was. I never understood why he quit the escort business. The money was amazing, the women horny, and the lifestyle heaven. I guessed his heart just wasn’t in it anymore.
Just then, a thought dawned on me. “It happened to you.” He knew what I meant, but held my gaze without faltering. I went on, “You got in too deep with a client. It went too far. That’s why you quit.”
Harry looked me in the eye and uttered the words slowly, carefully. “I fell in love.”
I looked at him in a whole new light. It made sense. From the moment I started working at DFT, Harry had spent every spare moment lecturing me on the importance of keeping a distance from clients. He told me that some women would mistake sex for love, and he was right. I’d released a few clients for that fact alone. They thought they loved me. They hadn’t even known me. They’d only known Quinn the sex machine, not Matt the person. I understood the need for distance, but now, I understood it more. “Who was she?”
Harry picked at the food on his plate and spoke quietly. “She was just a girl. She fell in love with a guy in high school and they married at eighteen. Six months later, he was dead. An aggressive tumor in his brain killed him. She was my age, early twenties and still mourning. A couple of her friends booked her in as a surprise, and when she turned up and realized who and what I was, she burst into tears. I spent that entire hour holding her. Just holding her. And she felt perfect in my arms. I never wanted to let her go.” His jaw ticked. “That should’ve been the last appointment. I never should’ve seen her again. But when she booked another appointment a fortnight later, I accepted immediately.”
I could see he really didn’t want to talk about this, but I couldn’t help myself. “Then what happened?”
“The next appointment, we just talked…about everything. She said it was so good to have someone to talk to, someone who would listen. She told me I was better than a shrink. I spent the night making her laugh, because when she laughed, her eyes did too. Pretty as a picture. And when it came time to leave, I kissed her. Just once. And she let me.”
Harry picked up his beer and sipped. “The next few appointment were just spent hanging out, kissing, cuddling. I couldn’t get enough of her. She was spending an ass-ton of money just to be with me. It felt nice, you know? She was smart, funny, and cute as hell. I wanted to keep her. Then, finally, we slept together, only it didn’t feel like sex; it felt like making love. She booked another appointment to tell me she couldn’t see me anymore, that she was falling in love with me, and she needed to let go. Everything she was saying, I was thinking, but I wasn’t strong enough to end it. I never saw her again.” He huffed out a humorless laugh. “And what was fucked up was that every appointment after that, I felt like I was cheating on her. I felt sick to my stomach. I never even spent the money she paid me. It’s still there. And so…I quit.”
I couldn’t help but feel sadness for my friend. If anyone deserved love, it was Harry. “I’m sorry, man. That blows.” He shrugged and I asked, “You ever try to find her?”
He sighed. “Just once. Months later, I called the friend who originally booked, asking for her phone number. It took quite a bit of convincing, and she only relented when I told her I was in love with her. The friend told me my girl felt the same and was suffering without me. You couldn’t imagine how happy I was to finally be able to speak with her. I had a plan. I would start by telling her I was in love with her and that I wanted to be with her, that I’d quit and would never be escorting again, and then I’d move to be closer to her.”
He ran his fingers down the condensation built up on the beer bottle. “But when I called, a guy answered. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I said nothing. He kept saying ‘hello, anyone there?’ but I kept quiet. Then I heard her. And it was her. I’d committed that voice to memory. She said, ‘oh, for God’s sake, Sean! Just hang up the phone, honey.’ So I hung up and never called again.” He threw me a strained smile. “Seems she didn’t miss me as much as I was missing her.”