His Virgin Escort

By Ruby Steele and Virginia Sexton

That's one virgin I'd love to train.

A sweet, innocent young thing is joining the escort service.

And she's all mine.

*For now.*

She needs to be trained before she's sold to the highest bidder.

I'm well endowed with *all* the right skills.

I can give one hell of an education.

When I'm done with her, she'll be able to drive men crazy.

I can take her in any way I want…

Except, I can't take her innocence.

And that's going to be a problem.

A big f*ing problem.

One that won't go away, just like my hard-on…

Ever since she walked into my life, she's all I can think about.

I promised to teach her then give her up.

But I want her all to myself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steamy eReads
• Release date: Jul 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223225591

Book preview

A sneak peek inside...

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I stand at his bookshelf, absentmindedly running over the titles as I contemplate my position. I lose all sense of time as my brain struggles between the means and the end. I hear the click of the door and his sneakers on the kitchen tile.

I turn in that direction, my hands on my hips, and Kaden freezes in midstride. I’m confused for a moment before I realize — oh, shit — I’m still naked. He looks a little deer-in-headlights at first, but a smooth smile creeps over his lips as I cross my legs and lift my arms over my breasts.

My self-consciousness seeps back in, and I manage a quiet, Hi.

Don’t do that.

My anxiety creeps back in. Don’t what? Don’t be friendly? I’m so confused.

He gestures at me impatiently. Don’t cover yourself. Show me.

It feels like my stomach opens into an endless pit as I let my arms fall to my sides, and Kaden takes me in. A bulge forms at the front of his sweats. Dear Lord, the stamina of this man is amazing. I didn’t know guys can get that hard that often.

He takes a beeline to his bedroom, pulling off his shirt as he goes. Come on, follow me. Shower time.

I go after him, lifting my forearms back over my breasts before I catch myself and lower them again so he can see everything he wants. He’s The Client. Scarlett is in tow. Kaden dips, taking his sweats with him, and when he stands, they remain behind. Behind. Lord, that ass. It’s chiseled, and his hamstrings and thighs vibrate with every step.

I lose sight of him as he enters his bedroom, and as soon as I step inside, I lose him again as he enters the bathroom. When I enter, Kaden is leaning into a massive, tiled shower and cranking on the controls. The water turns on full blast from multiple showerheads, and he backs away until he’s leaning against the counter, his cock at full mast. I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to the size of that thing.

He wraps his big hand around his shaft and gives himself a slow pump. Go get the temperature how you like it in the shower.

I take small steps, being sure to keep my thighs closed. I lean into the shower, give the complex controls a once over, let the water run over my hand, and adjust things. When I come back out — Kaden is fixated on my ass. His eyes slowly trace up my body. I watch as he strokes his cock, mesmerized at the power in his form.

You have it where you want it? he asks, and I nod. I’m feeling a little lonely, here. I know you masturbate. I want to see it. Show me.

I feel the heat coming from the shower — or is that coming from me? I tentatively send a finger across to my inner thigh and to my pussy lips. I haven’t done this without my hair down there, and it feels so sensitive now. I’m already wet. I send a finger between my pussy lips and stroke up and down the slit, wishing to God it was his fingers, wondering how it would feel to have that big prick of his pressing into me.

His smug smile widens, and he asks, Is it ready?

Wet and ready and begging for more. I’m ready.

His smile turns dark. I meant the temperature. Is the shower ready?

There goes the heat of a blush again. I remove my hand from exploring my pussy and feel at the water. Yes. Ready.

Get in.

1

Grace

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The office is small but luxurious. Dark colors for the wood and leather. One massive mahogany desk, behind which I sit and contemplate whether this is really something I want to go through with.

After leaving my parents’ home, this is exactly the kind of thing I never thought I would have been doing. Leaving? More like escaping. But, as soon as I graduated high school, I was gone. Seventeen and on my own, but I made it work. I had a job, and I went to school — something no one in our family had managed, going back all our generations.

I take a look at the framed pictures of celebrities and the miniature statues composing the décor, which scream banknotes. This is why I’m here. The money. It’s not just for me, even though Lord knows I could use it. I’m barely getting by, even with the rent split four ways between all my roommates in that dinky little apartment. I’m taking out debt for school, and I can’t see myself paying it back in the next twenty years.

If it were just for me, this wouldn’t be an option. But Mom and Dad have finally been busted, and it’s going to stick this time. They’ve been flirting with the judicial system since before I was born, and their last straw has finally been drawn. With a staggering combination of charges for illegal drugs, distribution, and unlicensed firearms, the police finally had enough evidence to make it stick. Once the authorities got a look at the apartment, the child endangerment charges were the cherry on top. Child Protective Services gathered my two younger sisters and little Jake, and they’re on their way to being enrolled in the foster system. I can’t let that happen. I can’t let that tailspin begin.

Problem is, if I’m barely getting by supporting myself, how am I supposed to support three younger siblings? I could drop out of school, and I could work around the clock at shitty jobs for the rest of my life. Little Jake is only five — that’s thirteen years until he can be on his own. I’ll be in my thirties by then. My life will be spent trying to make ends meet and always coming up one bounced check behind. We’ll live in the same shitty apartments we grew up in. We’ll eat the same shitty food, sleep on the same shitty mattresses on the floor with no box springs, and go to the same shitty schools.

No. I’m going to give my siblings a better life, and I’m determined not to sacrifice my wellbeing and happiness in the process. That’s why I’m here. I need my own apartment, and I needed the money to take care of them while still going to school. If I don’t go to school, my downward spiral will be never-ending.

I won’t lie. I’m scared of this job, but it’s a safe one if it’s done at the higher end — or, at least that’s what I’ve been told. They look after you in a way street pimps never would. Hell, a pimp wouldn’t even care if the guy uses a condom — he’d probably prefer he didn’t — pays better. Nothing like this. I just exited Excalibur’s private medical screening. It was extensive. I’ve never even had a blood test, let alone had to spread my legs for a man to take a look down there. He didn’t accept my fervent assurances that I was healthy in all the right ways.

I hear the door open behind me, and I automatically readjust myself to a more stiff sitting position. This is it. Mister Calvin Stone appears at the corner of my vision and makes his way behind his desk. He is tall and lean, his hair beginning to grey, and the slight