She had seen it all. Done it all.
And always with a smile on her face.
Jake from Albuquerque stopped by about once every three months and used bondage restraints to gag and hogtie Pamela on the bed. Her job was to squirm, struggle, and cry (per his instructions) like a captive as he reclined back and masturbated for the rest of their allotted time. When in the mood, he’d remove his belt and dish out some corporal punishment.
But the man never touched Pamela.
The bondage was uncomfortable as hell, but Pamela was still at ease with Jake and looked forward to partying with him. That was due to the strong rapport they’d built over the years, and she trusted he’d never overstep his bounds. Jake never wanted sex, yet still paid her fetish rate (a much higher premium) regardless.
When Jake wanted to whip Pamela, she charged an additional $100. They always negotiated terms beforehand.
Yet he never hurt her.
And Colt would listen in, without fail, to every second his wife was being taken by someone else. The surveillance system’s purpose was to safeguard the working girls from overaggressive and belligerent clients. It was rare, but Colt and/or Jim had to burst into a bedroom on multiple occasions throughout the years and put an immediate end to a customer’s roughhouse, unwanted behavior. If necessary, they’d involve the authorities as well.
“Oh, a text from Jim.” Pamela gazed at her smartphone, bright and blingy in its pink rhinestone case, with one hand and continued to roast marshmallows with the other. “Lindsay got approved for her sheriff’s card moments ago and they’re off to Oakfall. Should be back late this afternoon or early this evening.”
“Kayleigh.”
Pamela’s eyes narrowed as she offered a snarky grin to Colt’s correction. To him, it was imperative that the ladies use their working names amongst each other. In the past, those at odds would try to leverage any personal information they could against each other. Sometimes lives were forever wrecked when parents found out what their daughter was up to.
“Kayleigh,” Pamela yielded and raised an eyebrow. “What do you think of her?”
“If Kayleigh holds up, she’s going to make us a ton of money.” Flipping an inner switch of his own, Colt’s tone deepened, and the raw, no-nonsense dictator from yesterday’s interview made his return. “In this industry, young and wholesome girls are worth their weight in gold. You know what men who come here want, Pamela. But if Kayleigh can’t handle things, she’ll be like the hundreds of others we’ve had over the years who flop and leave town after a day, a week, a month.” His palms stung from digging his fingernails into them. “I hope you know what you’re doing by insisting we offer her a loan before her first party.” The restraint in his voice was palpable.
“I trust Lindsay – Kayleigh – can handle the stress and demands. She’s young and doesn’t have any experience, but she loves sex, and I’m going to work with her.” Pamela undid the top button of Colt’s polo shirt and pressed a kiss to his throat. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll teach her all I know and have her well-prepared for anything by the end of the week.” Pamela took pride in being able to reel Colt’s alter ego back in, the take-no-prisoners workplace commando, to allow the warm gentleman she loved to reemerge. “The money doesn’t concern me either. She’ll pay us back.”
“You don’t perceive her the same way I do.” His tone had dropped several octaves. “Oh, I can tell. You can’t fool me. To me, Kayleigh is a sweet girl, a good girl, but an asset. A sought-after asset who’ll do wonders for our business and its bottom line.”
And the type the mainstream brothels will soon come after like a hungry pack of piranhas, Colt thought, and try to entice away with promises of more money. Once word of her spread, he feared recruiters from the houses near Reno and Carson City would attempt to poach Lindsay away. That bastard Robbins does it to us all the time.
“To you? Kayleigh is the girl you’ve spent your entire life dreaming about. Don’t you dare deny it. I know you too well.” His hand lingered on her thigh. “Not going to leave me for her now, are you?”
There it was again. Pamela laughed, though a quick burst this time. Her lips, her eyes, her soul, they all smiled in unison. “I admit, I have a crush on Lindsay.”
“Kayleigh.”
Pamela growled and snagged another kiss. “You know, I’ve been attracted to other girls for as long as I can remember. But I’ve never been more attracted to another girl than Kayleigh. Ever. But read my lips, Colt McCarron – you have nothing to worry about.” She fluttered the tip of her thumb in languid circles along his mouth. “You are and always will be my number one.”
“Yet you’ve forever yearned for a number two.”
Was there any reason to sidestep or lie about it? Pamela had always been honest with Colt about her feelings. Working in this industry, their marriage wouldn’t have lasted this long otherwise. “I love all the girls we have and most of the ones who’ve worked here in the past and I’ve had sex with almost every single one of them. Remember Jessica? She and I didn’t get along, but if a customer picked us for a threesome, we were best friends and lovers until the clock ran out.”
“What’s your point?”
Pamela rolled her fingers into steely clamps and blew the strands of yellow, sunrise-gold hair across her forehead skyward. “I’ve had sex with other working ladies and female clients so many times, Colt, I’ve lost count. But never have I been with one where it’s intimate. Something more than business, something special, something real … like what you and I have.”
“And you believe you can have this with Kayleigh too?” What we have doesn’t come around all too often.
Pamela glanced down, her lips flat. “Maybe? I can tell she’s interested in me.”
He rested his finger on Pamela’s chin and lifted, gazing into her eyes. “Sweetheart, Kayleigh is a kid. She’s only eighteen.”
“So was I when you first met me. And you were older than I am now.”
“Touché. You got me there. No defense for that one.” A lump grew in Colt’s throat, but he gulped it back. “I don’t want to see you get hurt. I know how loving and kind you are, and I’ve supported your fantasy of having another special someone – a woman – in your life since the beginning. I’ve never told you no.” He reached out and smoothed his thumb between her eyebrows. “All I ask is you keep me in the loop and tell me everything that happens along the way. Can you do that?”
“Of course. I promise to.”
I have no doubt. Others may consider him insane given her occupation, but Colt viewed Pamela as the ideal wife, someone he trusted. She’s never given me a reason not to.
“When are we going to start our family?” His words were gentle as he nipped her ear. “You know I want to be a father and I’m not getting any younger. I wish you’d retire. I do.” Colt threaded his fingers at the base of her neck and luxuriated in the fresh, feminine scent. “Twelve years as a woman in a brothel is an eternity. You could concentrate on obtaining your graduate degree while we work on starting a family. I’d have no problem if you fooled around with Kayleigh on the side either. Nicolette, Scarlett, Kenzie, I wouldn’t mind. You know I’m not the jealous type.”
Pamela pulled away and crossed her arms. “No. No kids, at least not now, and I’m not quitting the house.” She sensed his gaze, kind and patient, as she glanced back toward the house. “Not until our mortgage in Fairfax is paid off and we have more money in the bank.” Pamela’s arms relaxed and a wave of sadness befell her as she faced him. “I don’t want to be away from you for three weeks at a time either. I’d be so lonely.” She gnawed the inside of her cheek. “I’m afraid of being alone. You’ve worked these three-week cycles for years.”
His mouth tightened. “I keep telling you, we could move to Nevada and live here full-time. You’ll never be alone.” His fingertips caressed her forearm. “I wouldn’t let that happen. I’d work a standard shift and come home to you every night. No crazy hours, I promise. I’d take days off each week, and we could spend them together.”
The problem with that was Pamela preferred to live close to her family in the Baltimore suburbs. Brothels were only legal in select parts of Nevada, so Colt couldn’t relocate his business to Maryland. Otherwise, he would.
In a heartbeat.
“Honey, you’ve been studying so hard to get into the medical field and one day become a Nurse Practitioner. And you have three years to go before you earn your graduate degree. That’s it. You could get a job at a doctor’s office or hospital and do what you were born to do: help people. Make them feel better. That is and always will be your true calling in life.
“Here, I know you want to make your clients happy and genuinely care for them, and that makes you a superstar. But there comes a time to call it quits and move on to the next phase of your life, your career, our life. This …” Colt regarded her for several seconds, a fantasy image of breathtaking curves in skimpy attire, and grimaced, “… isn’t you.” He flashed a hand in front of her. “You … you’re better than this.”
“Better?” Pamela’s shoulders drooped, her face expressionless. Suddenly, this discussion became much deeper than she was comfortable with. “Am I better?”
“You know you are.” He reached for her bare foot with both hands and she groaned as he worked his magic. “I don’t want you to be like Mariko. She’s thirty-five and has been working as a courtesan, an escort, for seventeen years. And she has no game plan for the future.”
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