Cat Haus - the Complete Story (Billionaire Bad Boys) Read online

  The question seemed to knock Hottie McHotster out of his stupor. He took a step back. "Uh, yeah. Come on in."

  Maybe I'd woken him. That would explain the confusion, and why his hair looked all tousled and sexy, as if someone had run their hands through it. Just looking at him sure made me want to run my hands through it. I'd rather die than tell Gus this, but after meeting this man I was looking forward to this job.

  I decided to make nice and make sure he enjoyed my company as much as I anticipated enjoying his. After all, I was an ambassador for Gus's Cat Haus. "I'm sorry I took so long getting here. I know it's late. You were probably about to go to sleep."

  "It's all right. I was up working." He tipped his head toward the cavernous space behind him where I could only assume he'd been working on some project or another.

  "Good. I'd hate to have thought I woke you."

  His gaze dropped down my body, spending quite a bit of time on my suit.

  Yeah, I'd worn a suit to a "private party". I'd paid a fortune for the summer-weight, off-white pants and jacket and I hardly ever got to wear the damn thing. Gus said to dress classy. I dressed classy.

  "I’m sorry. It's just—you're not what I was expecting." He shook his head, looking baffled. "Just to clarify, you, uh, um—"

  Since he couldn't seem to get the words out, I decided to help him. "Have sex in exchange for money for a living?"

  One brow rose again. "Yes. That."

  "Yes, I do. Did you want me to ask Gus to send another girl more to your liking?"

  He let out a short laugh. "No, that's not necessary."

  Not exactly a compliment but I decided to forgive him. He was clearly out of his element here. What the hell Gus had been doing in a high stakes poker game with the likes of this guy, I couldn't figure. But here we were. Maybe my suit had thrown him too much. I did look more like I was here to apply for a bank loan than to get sweaty in bed with him.

  If we ever got farther into the suite than the front door so we could get to the bed that is . . .

  I unbuttoned my jacket and slid it down my arms to move things along. The lace camisole drew his gaze, as I'd hoped. I was proud of my boobs. They weren't huge but they were a nice size and real. Not many girls in this town could claim the same. I looked around for somewhere to put the jacket. That seemed to knock him out of his trance.

  "Here. Let me take that." He reached for my jacket.

  "Thanks, um—What should I call you?"

  "Oh, sorry. I haven't introduced myself. You can call me John."

  That struck my funny bone and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. I covered my mouth with my hand but not quickly enough to smother my amusement. He noticed and frowned until realization dawned visibly on his face.

  His mouth turned up with a crooked little grin. "That's what you call your customers, isn't it?"

  I nodded, still smiling. "Yup."

  He moved to the closet just inside the door and slipped my jacket over a hanger, and then turned back at me. "It's actually my name, though."

  I wasn't sure if I believed him or not, but it didn't matter to me. "John it is then. So, John, what are you interested in tonight?"

  His eyes widened a bit. "I don't know. What am I allowed?"

  I was beginning to suspect this might be John's first time with a girl like me. Sure, most guys had run across strippers over the years, but not many had access to high priced call girls. "Whatever you want."

  "There are no rules?" A frown creased the brow above his eyes. After his initial shock at my revealing my skimpy top, his focus had remained on my face rather than dropping to where I knew he'd be able to see a dark dusting of my nipples through the lace since I'd forgone wearing a bra beneath the cami.

  "Well, I don't mind a good spanking once in a while, but I'd prefer if you don't hurt me physically otherwise. I have been with a few clients who were into the S and M stuff and couldn't get off otherwise. So yeah, I guess anything goes, within reason."

  "Really?" He tipped his head to one side and seemed to be trying to read my mind, though I doubted he could, unless he worked doing one of those psychic shows people paid to see.

  "Yup." I finally got a hot as hell guy and he seemed reluctant to touch me. The sweaty men with bad breath never seemed to have that problem. I took a step forward and, watching him for cues, rested both of my hands on his chest. "How about I get us started and you stop me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable?"

  John's brows rose again. "All right."

  Taking that as consent I opened a button on his shirt, then another. His chest was almost hairless until I reached the line of hair that began low on his flat belly and led down. How I loved a happy trail on a man in good shape. Loved to follow it with my hand, and then with my tongue.

  As I started to get horny for this guy, I truly began to hope my initial opinion had been wrong and he didn't have this big suite to compensate for a tiny cock. That would be a sin of epic proportions.

  Only one way to find out. I moved my fingers to the black leather of his belt. An image hit me hard. I imagined the sting of that leather against the bare skin of my ass as John bent me over the arm of the sofa before he fucked me.

  Men paid a lot extra for anything like that and there was even a list of guidelines for BDSM play at the Cat Haus. I didn't like doing the really hardcore kind of kink for money, but here I was getting wet while imagining doing it for free. I swallowed and glanced up at his face, wondering what he was thinking. It was a good distraction from where my own mind had gone totally off the rails.

  Standing this close I could appreciate how tall he was. Even without the added height from his cowboy boots, he was tall. I liked big men. Which brought me back to my original goal—finding out what treat hid beneath his pants.

  I slipped the end of the belt through the buckle, and then reached for the hook above the zipper of his trousers. "This all right?"

  "Yes." For the first time, John moved to touch me. He brought one hand up to my shoulder and brushed back the hair resting there. There was nothing sexual at all in his touch, which baffled me, until I realized my hair was long enough the strands over my shoulder had blocked his view of one of my breasts. Now that he'd pushed it away, I caught his stare dropping to my nipple.

  So he was a boob man, after all. Good to know.

  "Want me to take my cami off?"

  "Not yet. I can do it when I’m ready." Ah, so he was going to participate. Also good news since this was beginning to feel like a one-woman show.

  I lowered the zipper of his fly and saw the bulge of his erection through the black cotton of his underwear. The tip reached to just below the elastic waistband. I slipped my hand beneath that band and grasped his thick, hard length. My theory had definitely been off. This man didn't have anything to compensate for in the dick department. Must be something else that inspired him to get the biggest and the best suite in town, but at the moment I couldn't care what.

  Bending, I pulled his cock free from the underwear and slid my mouth over him. He drew in a breath and rested both hands on my shoulders. I tasted pre-come. It wouldn't take long to get him off, and I found that thought a bit disappointing, because there'd be a very real chance that once he came he'd say thanks and goodbye. That would leave my vibrator to deal with this need he'd worked up inside me.

  I liked sex, and I'd like to have it with John, here, tonight, in this amazing suite high above the city lights twinkling below us. Maybe I had seen Pretty Woman too many times.

  Straightening, I asked, "Would you be more comfortable sitting down?" That was my polite way of saying I hated standing blowjobs. They made my back hurt.

  "Is the bedroom off limits?"

  I smiled. My John was definitely a rule follower and I was finding the quality endearing. "Not at all. I told you, no limits."

  "Within reason," he added with a small smile.

  I laughed and repeated, "Within reason."

  His eyes seemed to darken and his hand
s settled on my waist. "Then I think I'd like you naked and in my bed."

  Finally. Christ, I thought he'd never warm up, but now he had, things were beginning to turn molten. "I'd like that. A lot."

  "Would you?" He watched me again, searching my eyes. Maybe he was trying to figure out if I was lying? Faking my interest in being with him.

  I unbuttoned my pants, reached for his hand and guided his long fingers down my stomach and beneath the lace of my panties. He let me move our joined hands between my lips to where I knew I was wet. "I want to be in your bed, John."

  He slid one long, manicured finger inside me, his eyes narrowing further. "How long do I have?"

  "Gus said all night, if you want."

  John circled my clit with his finger, wet with my own juices. First one direction, and then the other. My eyes drifted closed as I drew in a long breath through my mouth.

  "If we don't move to the bedroom, I'll end up taking you right here." He spoke low and close against my ear. The warmth of his breath sent a shiver through me and I didn't care where he took me, as long as he did.

  He pressed my clit harder, and my breath caught in my throat. "We'll go in a second."

  "You mean after you come?" There was a smile in his voice.

  "God, yes. Please." If he was willing to give it, I was willing to take it.

  John doubled his efforts on my clit as he scraped his teeth over my neck, which had always been an erogenous zone on me that most men missed. The combination did me in. My muscles started to spasm as the orgasm took me. Wave upon wave, as my breath became labored, my body throbbed with the pleasure he caused in me.

  I was still twitching with aftershocks as John grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bedroom.

  He sat long enough to yank off his boots and socks. The careful businessman was gone as he dropped his trousers and left them where they fell, something I was pretty sure this careful, rule follower didn't make a habit of. His shirt and underwear soon joined his pants on the floor and there he stood, gloriously naked, and I wanted him.

  I slipped out of my own pants, but I took the time to drape them over the chair. Like I said, this suit cost me a fortune and it was white. And maybe I was in a little less of a rush than John since I'd just come. His cock pointing straight out proved he was in great need at the moment.

  My standing before him in nothing but white lace panties and a see-through cami didn't go unnoticed. He stepped forward, grabbed my hips and drew me closer. "What about kissing?"

  With him? Oh, hell yeah. With Gus? Never. "Kissing is fine."

  His mouth crashed into mine and his tongue spread my lips, stroking in and out. If the man fucked like he kissed, I was in for a wild ride. I looked forward to it.

  Reaching between us, I wrapped my fist around his length, and he pulled back. "Don't. If you touch me, I'll come."

  "Then come so we can take our time during the second round." I backed him up toward the bed. When the back of his legs hit the mattress he sat. I dropped to my knees and slid my mouth over him, watching as his eyes closed and a frown creased his forehead. He needed to come, then we could relax and get creative, and believe me there were plenty of things I wanted to do with my own personal fantasy man.

  He was generously hung but I managed to deep throat him just to prove I could. Then I went to work using my hand and mouth on his shaft while my other hand cupped his balls. John fisted the comforter on either side of him. He'd be a hair grabber if he'd let himself. I could tell. What I would give to see this man lose all of his tightly held control. That would be a challenge. One I'd like to win.

  I reached up and pushed him back until he was lying on the bed, but with his feet still on the floor and me kneeling between them. His stomach heaved as his breathing sped. He was close. I quickened my pace, up and down the steel-hard length, imagining what it would feel like stroking inside me. Hopefully, I'd feel that very soon. A man of his age—probably in his early thirties—wouldn't need too much recovery. And I did have a few tricks up my sleeve to help that along.

  Thrusting his hips up to meet my mouth, he grunted in time with each stroke and then I felt it—he finally let go. As he held deep, I tasted his release in my throat. He fisted my hair hard enough my scalp tingled, and I had the satisfaction that I'd gotten this tightly wound man to lose at least a little bit of control.

  We stayed just like that when he was done. Me on my knees, teasing him with my tongue and enjoying the twitches and aftershocks it caused in his slackening cock. Him, flat on his back, his taut stomach rising and falling with each fast, labored breath. His hands remained on my head as he stroked my hair with slow movements far more gentle than when he'd been in the throes of orgasm.

  "I usually last a little longer than that."

  I pulled back and let his cock ease out of my mouth. "Not your fault. I am a professional. You didn't stand a chance."

  "Guess not." He laughed and I smiled that I could please him just as well with my wit as with my tongue. Perhaps Gus wasn't such an idiot after all for choosing to send me rather than one of the other girls. "Besides your vast skills, it's been a little while for me," John continued.

  His confession surprised me. Not that he'd admitted it had been a while, because men were always making excuses for their performance, but that this handsome, rich, intelligent man would be lacking in sexual gratification.

  "Really? Why?" I asked.

  John's stomach jumped from his short burst of a laugh that sounded bitter to me. "Long story."

  And I'd obviously overstepped by asking. I rose to my feet. "Well, we can make up for lost time tonight. If you'd like to, of course." I added the last because for the first time in a long time, I had to wonder if a john wanted a round two or not. This wasn't my normal situation and John wasn't my typical client.

  A smiled twitched up the corners of his mouth as he looked at me, kneeling over him on the bed. "Yes, I think I'd like that very much."

  I reached for the hem of my cami with both hands, and then paused to tease him with anticipation. "You don't have more work to do tonight?"

  "No. No more work tonight."

  "Good." I pulled the lace over my head, wiggling as it went, slowly like a striptease. His eyes followed the motion. I held the garment out, suspended from the tip of one finger, and let it drift to the floor.

  His focus moved to the panties I still wore. I heard the silent request loud and clear and hooked my thumbs between the lace and my bare skin. The undies came off as slow as the top had, and John followed the action, his eyes hooded with desire.

  I was bare, of course. Hair free. In this day and age, no working girl, or centerfold model, or porn star would dare sport pubic hair. It was out of style. There was no easier way to tell an old video or nudie picture than by a full bush. But I wasn't convinced all women had adopted the hair free trend yet, judging by the reaction I got from clients when they saw I was sleek down there.

  John was no exception. He waited only long enough for me get out of the panties before he sat and flipped me onto my back on the king-size mattress. Kneeling between my legs, he slipped both hands between my thighs and spread them wide. His stare never wavering from what I guessed his end goal to be, he slid his thumbs between the lips of my pussy and opened me to view.

  He brushed one thumb over my clit, eliciting a moan on my part. He leaned lower and my pussy clenched at the thought of his tongue on me. Pausing just shy of where I needed him to be, he raised his gaze to my eyes. "This all right?"

  "Very all right. And you don't have to ask permission. I told you. No limits."

  "Within reason." He smirked.

  I was starting to rethink that with this guy, because I couldn't think of anything short of his strangling me to death that I wouldn't want him to do to me. "I seem to have lost all reason tonight so we can ditch that condition."

  His dark brows rose and his finger trailed along my slit. "You sure you won't regret saying that?"

  "Wouldn't be the first regr
et I've had, but no, I don't think I will."

  My answer pleased him, as evidenced by his smile. "I won't make you regret it."

  He circled my clit as we talked, as if this was any casual conversation. As if he wasn't bringing me closer to orgasm with every touch.

  I was starting to move my hips in time with the motion. "I know you won't."

  He slid two fingers inside me and pressed up, hitting my G-spot dead on and working it, bringing forth another appreciative moan from me. A man who can find both the clit and the G-spot and knew what to do with them was a hot commodity.

  "How can you be certain?" he asked. "I'm a stranger to you."

  I didn't say what I was thinking. That no man who could make me feel this good could ever hurt me. "I'm a good judge of character."

  "That's a good skill to have."

  "One of many I possess." My eyes drifted shut as he combined the motions, working me inside and out. Though still denying me what I really craved—the heat of his tongue on me.

  "Yes, so I'm beginning to realize." After that comment, finally the conversation ceased and he gave me what I needed.

  I felt the suction of his mouth pulling my clit, stretching the sensitive bundle of nerves. This was on the menu back at the Cat Haus, the option for the client to pay to go down on one of the girls. John was so skilled in this area I'd gladly pay him for the pleasure.

  The damn man knew if he pressed down low on my belly, right above the pubic bone, it would intensify the pleasure every time he pushed on my G-spot with the fingers inside me. Maybe he was a gynecologist or something.

  How he'd learned it didn't matter. All that did matter was that one hell of an orgasm was building inside me. He must have felt it looming, just as I did. John worked me harder with his hands and mouth and I was a goner.

  Good thing the suite took up the entire floor, because I let him hear my appreciation of his skills. My hips bucked as the muscles inside me went wild, squeezing his fingers hard.

  He kept working me, past the first wave and right into the second more intense one until I feared he'd do to me what only my best vibrator set on high had ever done—have me squirting. Not knowing how he'd react to that I pulled my pelvis away from his mouth. Then he was over me, his cock nudging at my entrance, a question in his expression.