In my world, there is no such thing as love. It is just a lie we whisper into our client’s ear. Love is foreign and hazardous. What I did not expect was to bare my soul to a man who is as egotistical as he is dangerous.
His name is Landon. Despite his blackened soul, he tried to save me, but what he didn't expect was my torturous fate to catch up with me.
To your father, I'm the escort.
To your mother, I'm the whore.
To the legal system, I'm the prostitute.
In the end, I'm just the other woman.
I have no idea if I will continue to survive, if I will ever find my path aside from the gritty streets I know so well. There is a good chance I will wind up in the ditch like most women in my position. Surrendering to my fate is the only choice I have. I must relinquish it all.
***WARNING*** This novel contains explicit language, sex, drugs, violence, and sexual situations that some might find offensive. This book is intended for adults 18+ years of age.
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**Can be read as a stand alone**
“What do you think you’re doing?” I question, my words muffled from arousal. He doesn’t respond, just caresses his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck seductively, causing my head to loll to the side. A rush of desire races through my chest, and my breathing picks up.
“We can’t, remember? You’re my pimp, and I’m you’re escort. Rules,” I whimper, reminding him of his words from last night.
He growls, the sound of his teeth grating. “Don’t ever call me that,” he rasps into my ear. The heat of his breath causes me to moan. He turns me around and picks me up, his fingers digging into my dress-cladded thighs.
“What if you’re not my escort right now? No rules,” he breathes heavily, placing me down on his desk.
“Like, pretending?” I question, digging my heels into his ass, pushing him closer.
“Exactly,” he whispers, brushing my hair from my face. “Just two normal people.”
“How do normal couples meet? What do ordinary people do when they’re together?” I murmur, not having the first clue how a normal couple does things.
Landon slides his hands up each of my thighs, pushing my dress up quickly, revealing my smooth legs and thighs.
“We met on a golf course. I asked you out on a date,” he mutters, his words drawn out and heavy with his harsh breathing as I undo his pants.
“I don’t sleep with a guy until date number three,” I inform him, my hands fisting his hard cock and pulling it free. My mouth parts when I see it. I forgot how big, how thick it is. He hisses through his teeth as I slide my fingers along his shaft.
“Two, because you couldn’t resist me when I bought you some stupid necklace my shitty-paying job paid for,” he grunts. His hand dips below my dress and pulls my thong to the side, swiping a finger between my wetness, causing me to buck against his hand with an uncontrollable urge.
About the Author
M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She's a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn't live with the "what if" anymore and finally took a chance on her character's story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.