I press the call button for Remy's apartment and pull on the belt of my jacket. "Come on up, babe," his voice sounds directly before the annoying buzz. I push the door open and make my way inside.

My heels click against the porcelain floors of the lobby as I walk to the elevator. I press the button and glance at my reflection in the mirrored doors to check my face. My eyeliner and mascara are still in place, as well as my lips. This shade of mahogany works well with my newly paled complexion. Moving from one desert to another, I expected to keep my tan, but no such luck. Now, I have plain, pale skin, plain, brown hair, and plain, gray eyes. I look so fucking average until I'm naked.

The doors open, interrupting my moment of self-deprecation. I walk inside and press the button for the penthouse, not quite knowing what to expect when I get there. Remy is a kinky sonofabi-- no, that's not nice, she's wonderful. What I mean is that he's into a lot of things that would make his tiny, Catholic mother have a conniption. I really, really don't miss living with him.

When the elevator opens again, I see the door to the apartment is propped open. Inside, a few couples walk around with drinks in hand, perusing the artistic scenery in the minimalistic space. Moving a few steps towards the party, I take in the rest.

Two girls kiss on a couch near the entrance. A man gives head to another in a chair towards the back. Other women stroll around the space offering drinks and wearing black lingerie that contrasts the white floors and walls of the pristine penthouse. All of that is the hired entertainment. The rest of the people in the thin crowd are guests.

"Hey!" Remy greets me.

"Hey," I say back. He leans in and kisses my cheek. "Where do you need me?"

"I could use your help overseeing the bar if you don't mind."

"And for my little show?"

He grins. "We'll have you on the bed in the back," he points to an expensive-looking chaise sitting near the floor-to-ceiling windows, "after everyone is feeling warm and fuzzy." He steps behind me and starts tugs at the shoulders of my jacket.

I untie the waist and let him slide it from my arms. "Will you be leading the fun?"

He laughs. "No, it's not my type of kink tonight. I'll just be monitoring."

I shiver as my skin acclimates to the temperature of the apartment. "Do you not have a full-time ... sub thing, or whatever?"

"No, I'm between sub things right now," he mocks me jokingly. He folds my coat over his arm. "I've had a little problem with clingers lately. They take my perfect ten, but they don't seem to want to give it back," he humbly brags.

"You're disgusting," I tell him and he laughs. "And where is my little friend? Hopefully he's a little closer to an eight."

He chuckles. "There are a few selections on my bed. I'll give you the keys later and you can go fuck yourself," he says with a smirk. He thinks his jokes are funny.

"You treat me so well."

"And don't you forget it," he says.

♡♡♡

The crowd grew significantly over the past two hours. I took turns with Remy, watching the guests with their drinks, making sure no special ingredients were added without consent. The crowd seemed settled and warm, some guests mingling with more than just the hired entertainment, others trading partners on the couches, partaking in what Remy referred to as "approved public activities", though I preferred to call them fellatio and cunnilingus.

It's just fun to say. Cunnilingus. It sounds like a sexy philosopher.

I slide my panties off and sit on the bed. Opening my legs wide, I relax back onto my elbow, displaying myself for anyone willing to look. A few guests immediately show interest. When I pull out the flexible, purple dildo, more attention comes my way.

I put the tip of the toy in my mouth and refrain from making an unpleasant expression when I taste the plastic. It would be hard to believe Remy gets to charge 200 dollars for each one of these, but I'm pretty sure he could find a way to make money from sneezing if he wanted to.

Pretending to be uninterested that people are watching me, I suck the toy like it just paid my rent. It kind of did, actually. I pull it from my lips, careful to make a popping sound that the guests would enjoy, and then reach down and start to slide it against me.

It wouldn't be the worst I've ever had. The shaft is ribbed for my pleasure, but we'll see if it works. I push it inside me and toss my head back with a sigh for dramatic effect.

Moving my little friend in and out rhythmically, it doesn't feel too bad. The ribbing adds some interesting friction. I moan and whimper just enough to sound convincing, but not be over the top. I'm supposed to keep this up for fifteen minutes.

A man steps to the front of the crowd, front and center. He towers over me as he stares blankly between my legs with his arms crossed. His expression is neutral, unamused. Something about that makes me hot. I rub my little friend harder against my favorite spot and let out an excited moan just for him.

I casually glance through the crowd to find Remy, wanting to know if I'm doing a good job. He's off with a couple guests on the couch. One woman kissing his neck while the other paws at his fly. So much for sitting this one out.

Fuck the fifteen minutes, I'm just going to make myself come.

The guests watching me seem amused enough, their focused attention suddenly making the toy feel so much better. I lie back and push it in deep, coaxing it exactly where I want it. My pussy begins to quiver as I tease myself. "Ah!" My body lubricates around the toy and the sounds of my wetness become more audible.  

When I feel a hand on my leg, my eyes snap open. The man from before has taken a seat next to me on the bed and appears to think this is more than just a show.

"Oh, no touching allowed, big boy," I coo to him.

The man doesn't listen. He continues to stroke his fingers against my thigh. My heart starts to race with a rush of adrenaline. My attention leaves the toy. 

He's seriously messing with the wrong bitch. I'd punch him straight in the fucking nose if I didn't think it would ruin the party. "Remy?" I call for him.

I find him still on the couch, his tongue down the throat of one woman, his dick down the throat of another. Goddammit, Remy, I'm trying to be good.

The man moves atop me and reaches for his fly. I push away from him quickly and yell, "Remy!"

He turns to look my way and snaps into action. He pushes past the women, tucking himself back into his pants as he storms over to us.

The man's hand finds me again, and I react instantly, leaning away and swinging my arm. The back of my hand hits him across the face with a loud slap.

The crowd gasps and I cover my mouth with my hands. Dammit, Maggie!

The man looks at me with a mixture of anger and confusion. Before he can say anything, Remy pulls him up by the shirt with force and glares at him. "No touching without approval," Remy growls. "You know the rules."

"Fuck you and your rules, that stupid bitch hit me!"

Remy's eyes widen. Shit.

Want to get murdered? Say something misogynistic about me in front of Remy.

Right on cue, he pushes the man forward, making him tumble backward onto the floor. "Out! Now!"

The man pushes himself up off the floor and straightens his clothes. "I don't understand what the big deal is. I paid good money to --"

"Out!" Remy roars. The room grows quiet.

The man raises his palms as if to placate him. He turns and makes his way out through the motionless crowd.

Remy comes over to me as I put my panties back on. He wraps me in an arm and takes me with him to his bedroom. 

When he ushers me inside and closes it behind us, he grips my shoulders and looks at me with annoying worry in his eyes. At least his anger is gone. "I'm so sorry, hon. You know that shit is never supposed to happen at these things."

"It's fine, I'm used to it." I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him close, resting my cheek against his chest. I relax more when his strong arms envelop my shoulders. "I'm fine. Really. Stop worrying."

"Okay." Remy runs his hands up and down my back to soothe me. "It wouldn't be like this, you know. If you worked for me."

"Oh, I'm sure," I say sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. "Men will never disrespect me if they pay me for sex."

"But that's the difference, Mags. As an escort, you get to say no whenever you want. If you work at a brothel, you say no enough, you get fired."

Did he just say brothel? Fucking shit. "Brothel? What brothel?" I play dumb.

He rolls his eyes and takes a step back from me. "You really think I don't keep track of my competition? My buddy from the gym is a bouncer at Pink Rabbit." Shit, shit, triple shit. Remy crosses his arms and looks down at me. "He mentioned seeing you a couple weeks ago, and I figured two plus two equaled you not having enough money for school and not wanting to tell me."

For school? My nerves calm when I realize he doesn't know everything. "Okay, yes. I need the money, Remy, but I don't want it to come from you," I explain. That much is true. "I don't need you to take care of me all the time, I can take care of myself. I'm never going to move on and get my shit together if I keep relying on you for everything."

"You're not relying on me. I just want you to be safe," he says. "And something resembling happy, preferably."

That makes me laugh. "You want me to be happy? Are you happy?"

His mouth twists with annoyance. "You're trying to make things better for yourself, but you're only thinking about the bottom line," he says, ignoring my question. "With me, you can choose whoever you want to see, what you're willing to do. That's true for all my girls, not just you," he explains like a good pimp. I'm not sure if that's the proper term or not. "It's not only more money, it's safer and comes with a lot more choice."

All I respond with is, "Yep."

He sighs with frustration but pulls me into his arms again. "I know you're going to do what you want. You always do." His head tilts to rest against mine. "Just don't make me worry too much, okay?

Dammit, Remy. He knew he had me the minute he found out. He doesn't need a guilt trip on top of it. I take a breath and regretfully say, "I'll fucking do it."

He leans away to look at me face-to-face. "What?"

I roll my eyes. "Working for you. I'll give it a shot."

His smile widens. "Are you serious?" I purse my lips and nod. He raises his fists in the air in triumph. "Fuck yes! Finally!" he says with pure glee.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm such a goddamn prize." He looks down at me with a wide smile, laughing like a child. Seeing him so happy makes me feel better, though I try to ignore the nervous racing of my heart. "Sorry I interrupted your fun earlier," I say to change the subject.

"Don't be."

I give him a mischievous grin and say, "I could finish you off if you'd like."

He laughs. "No, thank you."

"You know it's my forte." I tease.

He runs his fingers over my hair to smooth it. "No means no, Mags," he jokes. He steps away from my grasp and resituates himself in his pants with a grimace. "My fucking balls though!"

_____

A/N: Sorry for another slow chapter. It takes a little time to set up the chessboard. What do you think of Remy?

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