God, tears are dripping down her face, and she is breaking me to pieces. I kiss her one last time.
“I need your bank account and routing number. Also,” I roll off of her. “I’m going to have a limousine service take you home.”
I sit up and pull the covers over us so that we can iron out the details without me looking at her gorgeous body and craving it any more than I already do.
Fuck, why do I have to let her go?
Chapter Six
Scarlett
I don't know what I was expecting. After an incredible sexual experience where I am still floating on my post-orgasmic high, he suddenly becomes a businessman. I just came on his cock, and the next thing out of his mouth is,‘What is your bank routing number?’
Fuck it. The night was fun. I am glad I did it. I probably won’t be able to have sex with anyone who doesn’t have a Prince Albert, so he ruined me there, but I am fine. Still aching and tingly, I have to get out of this room—and without taking a fucking penny because I am not a whore. If I hurry, I can still catch John, because our shift doesn't end until three a.m. and it is just two forty-five.
“Okay,” I say, feeling a little sad, but I know what I am getting into. “Is it okay if I use the restroom before I leave?”Don’t cry, don’t cry… this all feels so tawdry.
“Of course, love. I’ll call the car while you’re in there.” He gets up, and his cock is almost hard again as he walks naked into the living room, where he left his phone on the couch.
How am I going to get out? I wait for him to leave and grab my dress off the floor, quickly putting it on. There is a hallway thatconnects another bedroom, then a kitchen, and a dining room, which leads to the front door in a round configuration. So I can get out if I am fast. I walk briskly down the hall. Since my shoes were already broken and they are near the couch, I will not be getting them back. I have to realize that my only pair of black pumps are now going to be left as a souvenir for Mr. Cock, who fucked me so hard I am still shaking.
He called for my bag to be brought up, and I just pray it is near the front door. When I get to the door, I say a thank you to God, Jesus, and the Blue Fairy because there is my bag, and inside of it is a pair of Crocs. Mr. Cock is on the phone, and I keep to the wall behind him, walking as quietly as I can. I grab my bag, open the door, and run down the hallway toward the elevator. I call it, praying it will come before he realizes what has happened. Obviously, he hears the door slam closed, but he is still naked. As soon as the door to his suite opens, so does the elevator. I punch the button for the basement where the catering office is and just pray he won’t follow me.
When I get to the catering office, the other elevator is still on a floor a few stories up. He hasn't called it. I just need to get out of there and get home. I put on my Crocs and walk into the kitchen where the kitchen staff is cleaning up the pots and pans and getting ready to leave.
“Is John, the bouncer, still here?” I ask one of the sous chefs.
“Yeah, he’s usually the last to go. He’s probably at the front, helping them close down the bar.”
“Thanks,” I tell him.
With my heart in my throat, I go upstairs to the bar and find John having a beer and looking wrung out.
“Hey there,” I say, trying to act like I hadn’t just fucked my brains out, but it is really hard to ignore how sore and good my pussy feels.
It is a little perverse, but sitting on the stool next to John feels kind of amazing since I don't have any underwear on and I am still wearing the world's shortest little black dress.
“Hey there, Red Mask.”
I realize I am still wearing my stupid mask. I take it off and put it on the bar. “Do you mind getting this back to Satin Catering?” I askthe bartender who works with the company. I recognize him and have worked with him a few times.
“Sure,” he says, taking the mask and throwing it into a cardboard box with the others.
“How was your night?” John asks like I’d fucked an entire football team.
“Ugh,” I breathe out.
“Bad?” He seems surprised.
“No, just, ugh…” I flash him a smile. I am still so overwhelmed and confused; I don't know if what I did was stupid, brave, or slutty. I am a mess.
“That Rooster masked guy, not a good lay?”
John is gay, and being gay, he is also a man. He knows how men like to just fuck… with no strings attached. Not all gay men are like that, of course. Many of them are romantic and like to be married and have children and live beautiful epic gay lives, but some have a wider sense of sexual liberation and are less shaming than women like me.
“He was fantastic. It was fun, but I don’t want to ever do it again. It was too much for me. So, if you see me on the red heart list, come beat the shit out of me because I will have obviously lost my mind.” I laugh and take a sip of his beer.
“Beat the shit out of you? Woah, you have it bad. He must have been a fantastic fucker…” John laughs and snatches his beer back from me. “I’m jealous. Why can’t I be a banging hot girl like you? I want to fuck a billionaire.”
