I'm only two weeks in and school is already annoying as hell. I just finished standing in line for nearly an hour at the bursar's office just to sort out my payment schedule for this semester. I wanted to do quarterly, but they hadn't taken out the first payment, 24 hours away from a late fee I couldn't afford. All I wanted to do was give them money, and they acted as if I was trying to give them gonorrhea. Fucking bureaucracy bullshit. I am giving you all my fucking money, why can't you do me the courtesy of taking it out on time?

After dealing with that bullshit, I ended up making it to Anatomy & Physiology twenty minutes late and had to sit in the back with the soon-to-be dropouts. My class is huge; the auditorium sits at least 200 people. You'd think that halfway through my sophomore year my classes would be smaller, but not in pre-med. They start them big, and they flunk students out until there's nearly no one left. Two-thirds of this class would be gone by midterms, but I would still be here.

When the class is over, I decide to take the time to meet face to face with the professor's aide. Though I know plenty about the human body and how it works, I didn't necessarily know it on the level they'd like me to. Knowing to massage the balls and corkscrew the shaft only gets me so far.

I trot up the stairs towards the faculty offices. They squish all the assistants in a single office at the end of the hall. I find the correct room, and see him sitting alone at one of three desks crammed inside. My tongue slides over my lips as I gaze upon him.

He looks so fucking delicious with his cinnamon-colored skin, his perfectly black hair that frames his handsome face in loose waves, his lashes so dark he looks like he's wearing eyeliner. He's slim and tall, with long fingers I find myself staring at when my eyes aren't tracing his sharp jaw or plump, sculpted lips. God, I just want to lick him!  

I knock lightly on the open door. "Deven?"  

He looks up at me with his amber eyes and smiles. "Yes! Come in," he waves me inside. "It's Magdalena, is it not?" he asks in his mild accent; a melodic mix of Indian and British influences.

"Oh, please call me Maggie." I hold out my hand and he grips it with his. My breathing stutters when I feel those long fingers against me.

He lets go of my hand and gestures to a chair in front of the desk. I sit and remind myself to blink. "It's nice to officially make your acquaintance, Maggie. How can I help you?" He laces his fingers together and leans his elbows onto the desk. He smiles as if he's excited to have someone ask him something.

"I just wanted to introduce myself since I'll probably be here often. I'm already feeling overwhelmed in lecture, and I'm afraid I'll get lost in your lab as well."

His eyes widen and his smile drops. "Is it my accent?"

I laugh at his presumption of judgment. He doesn't know me yet. "No, of course not. It's just ... my stupidity, I think."

His smile returns. "You are nothing close to stupid. I have confidence you will do well, but feel free to come by anytime during my office hours."

I feel my heart start to beat quicker after his invitation. He runs his fingers through his hair and my breath catches. He's, like ... so attractive. "Well, thank you. I'm sure you'll get sick of seeing me." But I'll never get sick of seeing you, baby, the horny slut in my brain says. That bitch needs to chill. Or get laid. Either way.

He smiles with only one side of his mouth. "I doubt that will be possible."

Oh, fuck. I squeeze my legs together to ease the aching between them, but it only makes it worse. I am so looking forward to my threesome tonight.

♡♡♡

The hotel restaurant is quiet as I wait for my partner. This job has been wonderful. I've worked probably twelve hours over the last two weeks, and after tonight, I'll be ahead of my bills. That's something I haven't been able to say in ... forever? Yeah, forever.

Even though I've been supplementing by working at the club when I have free time between classes, the money I've made from escorting is amazing. Especially when you consider what I've been doing.

It hasn't been a lot of actual sex, which is kind of a bummer, honestly. The things people are willing to pay for are rather broad, and sex isn't always what they want. One man last week paid me to sit with all my clothes on and watch him masturbate. Another talked to me for two hours about all the times he had been with men -- which was actually quite interesting when you consider he paid me to do it when he had a wife at home he could have told for free. Needless to say, there was never a boring day on the job.

"Moxie," a voice calls behind me. I turn to find Jezebel approaching. Talk about the most appropriate name ever.

Her short, red dress looks similar to mine, though hers is even tighter. It matches the crimson of her lipstick and flatters her tan skin. Her mascara is dark and perfect, her eyeshadow subtle but flattering. Her heavy, cat-like eyes look at me with the unamused gaze of a professional. I can't tell if I want to be with her or just be her.

"Hi," I finally manage to say.

"Hey, let's go to the bar, I want to get a drink before we go up."

"O-okay," I agree while suppressing the urge to tell her I'm not 21.

We walk over together and set ourselves on two of the tall stools. The handsome bartender comes over and asks for our order. "Gin and tonic, please. What did you want?" she asks me.

Be cool, Mags. "Uh ... A vodka, please?" Fuck.

"A vodka tonic?" she clarifies as she raises an eyebrow in question.

"Yes," I agree. The bartender smiles and walks away to make our drinks. I'm an idiot.

When I glance over, Jezebel is appraising me with her chestnut-colored eyes. "You're just a baby, aren't you?"

Dammit. Oh well. "I'm old enough to fuck. That's all that matters."

She grins. "Bitch, ain't that the truth?"

I look over and catch the eyes of a well-dressed man standing at the end of the bar. He gives me a little smirk and leans up. I watch as he takes the drinks from the bartender and walks them over to us. "Here you are, ladies," he says with that little smile.

I grab mine and take a sip, regretting it as soon as I do. Sneering, I glance back up and find the man still staring at me. What the fuck, dude?

"You're Maggie, right?" he asks me.

My eyes widen when he knows my name. "Yeah."

"Remy said you'd be here tonight." He smirks again but seems to catch himself. "Sorry, that probably sounded weird. Hi," he holds out a hand. "I'm Jude, Remy's business partner. This is my hotel."

Shit. "Oh, hi! Nice to meet you." I reach forward and shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you too, though I feel like I already know you. He talks about you all the time." He smiles as he leans back up. "But don't tell him I told you that. I don't want him to kick my ass ... again."

I laugh but stop when I catch the suspicious gaze from Jezebel. My focus returns to my drink.

♡♡♡

We walk together down the corridor and take the elevator up to meet our John. Remy had hooked me up with Jezebel for three reasons. One, she had experience and was very good at what she did. Two, he trusted her to keep me safe. And three, she was fucking hot. He's too nice to me.

The few sips of disgusting-tasting vodka made my head a little blurry, but all I could think about was seeing her naked. Her perfect hourglass figure only gets better as it goes down. I know it's rude to stare but ... damn.

"So, you know Remy personally?" she asks me out of the blue.

I remove my eyes from her ass and say, "Yes. He's my brother."

She looks at me sideways. "He's not your fucking brother. You look nothing like him." The smirk she gives me at the end softens the force of her words.

"He's not blood, but he might as well be. His parents were my legal guardians and I lived with them through most of high school," I explain, careful to remain vague as to why I needed legal guardians in the first place. We also don't need to discuss the part where technically being family and living together wasn't a good enough reason for me to not fuck his step-brother. That's another story entirely.

"I'm still not hearing anything that says you two can't fuck." She turns towards me. "Do you?"

Why does this shit happen all the time? I get that he's tall, dark, and handsome or whatever, has a massive cock and the "I'm sensitive yet so powerful with my big muscles" bullshit that women eat up, but goddammit. Just because everyone else wants on his dick doesn't mean I do. 

I give her a look of annoyance. "No, we don't, and we never will." It's hard for people to understand our relationship because it's too fucked up for us to explain. I'd much rather deal with the awkward questions.

"Just need to know what kind of 'family' I'm dealing with tonight. I don't need you running to the boss and snitching if something doesn't go your way. I've made him mad once, and I will never do it again." She shudders and it makes me laugh.

"Did he suddenly stop speaking English and start cussing you out in Spanish?"

"Uh ... No."

"Then you haven't seen him mad," I tell her. Turning back to face the doors, I smile to myself. "Remy can be a little overprotective when it comes to me, but don't worry. I'm not thrilled about him being in my business more than he already is."

The elevator arrives as she laughs. "Okay. Good to know."

We step inside and she presses the button for our floor. In the quiet of the space, I realize my heart is racing. I can hear my pulse in my ears. When will the anxiety of doing this start to lessen? "So ... What typically happens with this sort of arrangement?" I ask her.

She shrugs. "The big spenders are a mixed bag. Half the time, they just want to watch, the other half want every ounce of attention they pay for. Very rarely do they ever finish with both girls. If they had that kind of stamina, they wouldn't be paying to get it." She smirks and I laugh. "Either way, I'll be sure we have fun." She runs her hand down my arm and my skin prickles.

My eyes glance over her amazing body again. "Well, I'm excited about that at least."

She smiles. "Good." She takes me by the chin and presses her plump lips against mine. I stifle a hum of pleasure before she pulls away. "So am I."

This will be fun.

We walk out of the elevator and go to the room. Jezebel knocks lightly and we wait. The door opens and a somewhat-handsome man opens the door. "Hi. Welcome. Come in." He motions us inside.

I follow her in, taking a quick scan of our client. He wears a solid, blue suit with no tie. His navy blue belt and shoes match perfectly. He's young; no way he's over thirty. Does he have young, self-made money like Remy, or is he a trust fund baby? The former is more likely to rent pussy.

"Would either of you beautiful ladies like a drink?" he asks us with a cocky grin. He's a schmoozer. He looks like an advertisement for the Harvard medical program; something about his gelled hair and perfectly straight teeth.

"I'm okay. What about you, Moxie?"

"I'm fine. Thank you."

Jezebel sits on the bed and stretches an arm out to invite me to sit next to her. I oblige, wrapping my arm around her slender waist as I sit with my leg draped over hers.

He peels his jacket off, folds it, and hangs it on the back of the chair. "So!" he slaps his hands together, making both of us jump. "Should we get this thing started or what?"

"Anything you want, sugar. What would you like us to do for you?" She's good, but I'm horny and really want her to be naked, so I could be biased.

"I'd like to watch you two start it off. If that's okay."

Jezebel smiles and brushes her hair over her shoulder. I take my cue and lean forward to kiss her neck. I breathe her in as I taste her. Her perfume is light and pleasant but tastes sharp on my tongue. I'd much rather be tasting the tang of something else instead.

She hums when I run my tongue along her vein. "Anything specific you'd like us to do?" she asks him.

He runs his tongue over his smiling lips. "I'd kind of like you to pretend I'm not here. You two get each other off, and I'll jump in when the moment ... arises."

I still. Was that a dick joke?

"We can definitely do that," Jezebel purrs.

_____

A/N: Hi, Dev! Hi, Jude! Remember that time when Maggie found out she got knocked up around the middle of November? Good times. Just for funsies, let's assume everyone with a penis might be the father. 

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