Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
I did something I considered doing a long time ago but never followed through with: I unfriended him to avoid having to see his posts. It was time. I didn’t want a front row seat to his moving on.
The condo was eerily quiet as I sat alone with my misery. Well, I wasn’t completely alone. Kitty was sulking on the other end of the couch. It was the first time Channing had left her alone with me.
He’d flown back to Chicago for the weekend. I was grateful for the reprieve, not because I didn’t enjoy his company, but because I was starting to enjoy it a little too much—his smell, his laugh, everything about him. It was also nice to not have to worry about what I looked like as I lounged around in my sweats.
But now I sort of wished he were here. He’d likely say something to make me feel better.
Desperately needing a distraction, I scrolled through my phone and came across the text message Annabelle had sent me containing the information for Newbury Gentleman’s Club. My curiosity got the best of me. Pulling up the website, I must have stared at the screen for over fifteen minutes.
The truth was, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the male escort thing since Annabelle’s and my conversation in the lunchroom.
My heart was pounding. Was I really doing this?
I told myself that I was just innocently checking it out, that I wasn’t really serious about it. An unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach, however, seemed to contradict that. And an inner voice that felt new and untrustworthy was telling me that I deserved this, to put my carnal needs first, that no one needed to know.
A box prompting the user to enter a password popped up onto the screen. If the code that Annabelle’s cousin had given me worked, then I would be convinced that was a sign. If it didn’t work, then I would walk away. After I punched the code in, I was diverted to another site.
I was in.
The page was black with gold accents and sleek fonts. A slow and seductive piano tune played. The site featured a detailed description of the club’s services. You could choose from a minimum half-day experience, full-day, or even an entire weekend, which seemed to be the maximum duration offered. The full-day rate was two-thousand dollars with the cheapest option being the half-day rate at a cool grand.
I clicked on a link titled Meet Our Gentlemen. It was essentially a menu of men, each numbered Gentleman One through Gentleman Twenty. A disclaimer noted that for the privacy of the men, photos would not be provided.
I began clicking through each profile, reading the descriptions.
Gentleman One is an actor by trade. He loves older women, gentle lovemaking, and intelligent conversation. With blond hair, blue eyes, and a tall, lean body, Gentleman One is an all-American dream. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Alexander Skarsgård.
Gentleman Four was born and raised in the Dominican Republic. Known as our gentle giant, with his massive frame and strong, muscular body, he’s often mistaken for a pro-wrestler. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson.
I read through them all, eventually returning to the one who had stood out the most: Gentleman Nine.
Gentleman Nine is a Southern gentleman, raised right. He believes chivalry isn’t dead, and his goal is to make you feel as comfortable as you will feel sexy. Celebrity Doppelgänger: Matt Bomer.
He had me at Matt Bomer.
Underneath the description was a button that said Contact Gentleman Nine. I entered my email address where it asked for it to activate the chat feature and began typing.
Hi,
My name is Amber, and I can’t even believe I am writing to you right now. I don’t even know what you look like or whether you’re a psychopath. Well, given the fact that my writing to you is essentially synonymous with trolling for sex, I guess the shady one in this equation is me. I’m really not…shady. I’m not unattractive or desperate, either. I’m sure you see your share of those types, but I felt the need to let you know that I’m not…gross. I’m twenty-five, svelte, and have been told that I’m attractive, although I don’t feel that I am the proper judge of that. I just want to be clear that I’m not contacting you because men aren’t interested in me. I could definitely find a man to sleep with if I wanted to deal with all of the other things that go along with that. I am not looking for a relationship. This past year, I got my heart broken by the man I thought was the love of my life. And, well, since then, I haven’t felt ready or able to open my heart to anyone. Not sure if I ever will. Some days, I miss him and that makes me even angrier…because you shouldn’t feel that way about someone who dumped you. I don’t want to go off on a tangent here. I’m sure you’re very busy…very busy getting busy. I’m sorry. I know. I’m not very good at this. Anyway, the reason I’m writing you right now is because I’m starting to really miss sex. I’m wondering if one night with someone who really knows what they’re doing and who won’t judge me or expect anything more from me might be what I need right now. I don’t feel comfortable just showing up to a hotel room without knowing a little bit about who you are. And I’d also want confirmation that you don’t have a disease. Not sure how that will work. Anyway, I’d love to chat. If we can come to some sort of an agreement, then I would take the next step to meet you for a half-day session.