Preview – The New Hire

CHAPTER 1: DESIREE

Desiree sat in the waiting room outside Julie’s office at La Petite Mort Club. This was her second visit and she still wasn’t impressed. The hallway was poorly lit, carpets were old and dark and the office furniture was common. The faint hint of bleach or some sort of cleaner permeated the air. The adherence to cleanliness was the only thing about this place that lived up to its reputation.

La Petite Mort Club was the premier pleasure establishment in the area. It was supposed to be high class and elegant, although she hadn’t seen any indication of that from the back office. Hopefully, the stories about the clientele weren’t exaggerated as well. They were rumored to be rich, generous, and STD free.

Sex was a messy business and she wasn’t going to work anywhere that didn’t take safety and cleanliness seriously. This was a temporary job. She had no intention of dying for it. That was if she actually got the job.

This was her second interview. She’d been a bit surprised at the callback. Her first meeting with Julie had not gone too well. The woman had disliked her on sight which wasn’t uncommon. Desiree’s beauty had alienated her from most other females since she’d turned thirteen.

This interview should go much better. Today, she’d see the man himself—Ethan St. Johns—the owner of the establishment. She forced herself not to pluck at her outfit. She had no reason to be nervous. She’d dressed perfectly for this meeting—sexy but professional. White blouse, top two buttons undone to show a hint of cleavage, tight black skirt and jacket that accentuated her breasts.

Julie the bottle-blonde, Amazonian woman who’d interviewed Desiree the first time stepped out of her office, her lips turned up in a sneer. “Ethan will see you now.”

“Thank you.” She stood, ignoring the other woman’s condescension. Women, like Julie, whose beauty had been lost to time and life were either charming and graceful or bitter. Julie fell into the latter category and nothing Desiree could say or do would make this woman her friend or even a non-enemy.

“Follow me.” Julie spun around and strode down the hallway.

At five foot seven Desiree wasn’t short, but she almost had to run to keep up with the older woman’s long stride.

Julie stopped, knocked once and opened a door, stepping to the side. “Right through here.”
This was it. The moment that’d change her life. She was about to become a very rich whore. She took a deep breath and strolled into the room, feigning confidence.

Julie followed behind her like an evil specter. Desiree was glad she didn’t stumble when her eyes landed on the man behind the desk. He dressed like any other rich businessman but Ethan St. Johns was even more attractive than she’d heard. He had sandy blonde hair, blue eyes and a deceptively angelic face that hinted at danger, seduction and everything fun and forbidden in between.

“Please. Have a seat.” He stood, motioning to the chair in front of his desk as his eyes boldly roamed up and down her frame.

“Thank you.” She smiled shyly as she sat.

He wouldn’t find her lacking. No man did. She had her mother and her French father to thank for that. Beautiful was too benign a word to describe her. She was exotic with black hair, so dark it shone blue in the sun, a pale complexion with lush, red lips and blue eyes that tipped up at the corner. Her body was perfect—breasts large and firm, a tiny waist and long legs with a nicely rounded bottom.

She was the spitting image of her mother. The only difference was the shrewd mind that she’d inherited from her father. Her mother had wasted her looks on rich, attractive assholes who’d banged her and left her with nothing but sometimes a baby in her belly. Desiree wasn’t going to make the same mistake. If she got this job, the first step in her future was in place.

His eyes sparkled as they continued to study her assets but other than that his face betrayed no emotion. She struggled to keep from frowning. She hadn’t expected the man who ran La Petite Mort Club to be easily charmed by an attractive woman, but she hadn’t considered that he’d be immune to her.

“Would you like a drink?” He strolled to the bar at the back of the room.

He had a gorgeous body to match his face—a nice firm ass with just a little bit of bubble to it, long strong legs and a chest, shoulders and arms that proved he worked out more than occasionally.

He turned toward her and she continued to survey him. Her eyes pausing on his crotch and the slight bulge there before making their way up his broad chest to his face.

He lifted a bottle of some type of liquor. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked again, amusement in his blue eyes.

“No. Thank you.” She’d expected to see heat in his gaze. Any other man would’ve been drooling over her by now. Perhaps, for once in her adult life, she was out of her league. She couldn’t allow that. Her future depended on her getting this job.

She wasn’t going to get rich working a nine-to-five. She’d barely finished high school. The only well-paying job in her future was here where she could use the assets God and her parents had given her.

He poured two drinks and walked past her, handing one to Julie before sitting back down behind his desk. “Okay. Let’s get down to business.” He tapped a manila folder next to his keyboard. “You passed all the physical tests.”

“But you haven’t decided to hire me. Yet.”

“Why do you want to work here?” His eyes dipped to her breasts. “With your looks you could find a rich husband.”

“I’m not looking for a husband.”

“Please.” Julie snorted. “All women like you want a husband.”

“Not me.” So, Julie had reached for a diamond ring and had failed. Desiree’s eyes darted to Ethan. Perhaps him? He looked at least twenty years younger than Julie, but the other woman had aged poorly—too much drink and a hard life by the lines on her face.

“Good, because you won’t find one at the Club,” said Ethan.

“Is that a rule?” She relaxed against her seat, making sure to keep her back straight enough to keep her breasts on display. Her mother had drilled that into her during her teen years. “I’m not looking for a husband but I will need to know all the rules because if I get this job, I don’t plan on losing it for something as stupid as a husband.”

“Do you hate men?” He took a sip of his drink.

“No. They have their purposes.” Giving her money was the top one in her book.

His eyes widened a fraction. “And those are?”

Good. She’d surprised him. She’d spent her childhood watching rich men come in and out of her mother’s life. Men like them bored easily. Ethan was a rich man. If she wanted this job, the best way to get it was to arouse his curiosity as well as his cock. She leaned forward just enough to give him a glance at her cleavage. “Giving pleasure and getting it.”

“So, you’re here to fuck. Is that it?” He didn’t sound like he believed her.

“Not exactly.” This time she leaned closer. “Let’s say we stop the games. Okay?”

“Yes, let’s. Games are for inside the Club not my office.” He looked bored.

“I was born poor and I’ve never been great at school.”

“Poor baby,” said Julie.

Ethan’s lips tightened a little but he didn’t rein in his watchdog.

She didn’t even glance at Julie. The woman was unimportant. Julie wasn’t going to decide anything. Ethan was. “All I have are my looks and those are fleeting.” This time she did let her gaze dart to Julie. “As we all know.”

“You bitch.” Julie stood, hands fisted. “You better hope you don’t get the job because Ethan may hire you but you’ll work for me.”

“Julie, please.” Ethan’s voice was slightly disgusted.

Julie almost bristled but she sat, obeying like a good dog.

“Desiree, please go on,” said Ethan.

“Since all I have are my looks, I want to use them to make enough money so that I’m financially stable for the rest of my life.” Her looks and her body were a fleeting gift that time would too soon destroy. Like a professional athlete, she only had a few years to use her gifts to their full advantage. “And I think working here will do that.”

“You have a high opinion of that pussy,” said Julie.

“Not at all.” She glanced at the other woman. “Pussies are basically the same. It’s what’s up here”—she tapped her temple—“that makes someone special.”

“And you’re stupid. You just said—”

“Julie, enough.” This time Ethan’s voice was like ice, dry brittle and deadly. “Leave us.”

“Ethan, you can’t mean—”

“I mean what I said.” His eyes landed on the other woman. “I always do and you know that.”

“Fine.” Julie stormed from the room, slamming the door behind her.

“Sorry about that.” Ethan tossed back his drink and walked to the bar, pouring another. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like something?”

“No, thank you. I’m not much of a drinker.” She’d gotten that out of her system during her rebellious teen years.

“That’ll change if you work here.”

“I doubt it. Sure, I sip and socialize but this is business and business needs to be done with a clear head.”

“I’ve learned to adjust.” He grinned as he took a drink.

“I didn’t mean you.” Lord, this man was attractive but lucky for her, she’d learned a long time ago not to fall for a pretty face.

“Of course not.” He took another sip. “Please continue with why you want to work here.”

“This is the most reputable sex club in the area and I need to make money.”

“Yes, before your looks fade.” He laughed. “Sorry, but you’re twenty-three. You have years before you have to worry about that and”—his eyes drifted over her slowly—“I think your beauty will age well.”

Her mother’s hadn’t. “Not if I can’t take care of myself. Worry and hard work have a way of aging us before our time.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“My personal life is my business.”

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I’ve met a lot of people who have no qualms using personal information as weapons.” She glanced at the door.

“Julie is never told anything except what’s necessary for her to do her job and your personal information isn’t part of that.”

“I’ve found that if one person knows something then several will know soon.” She’d trusted the wrong people too many times. It wasn’t happening again.

“I suppose I can’t blame you for not trusting me but it hurts.” He placed his hand over his heart as he tried not to smile.

“I doubt that.” She laughed. Working for this man wouldn’t be as bad as she’d expected.

“You may as well learn to trust me because I already knows everything about you.” He unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out another envelope, handing it to her. “Julie is not privy to anything inside here.”

She flipped through the pages, her face heating. There was information about her mother, her father, her brother in prison, her half-brother on her father’s side and even her ex-boyfriends. She closed the envelope feeling violated. She took a deep breath. If she were going to work here she needed to get used to that feeling. “So, you understand what I mean about the temporariness of looks.”

“You mother is still an attractive woman.” He hesitated. “Or could be.”

“Yes, if she could afford to take care of herself.” She placed the envelope on his desk.

“And you’re going to do that for her?”

“No.” She’d been done with her mother for years. “I’m not a saint nor a martyr.” She shrugged at his look of surprise. “She chose her life. I’m choosing mine.”

“And you’re sure you’re not hoping to land a rich husband.” He leaned forward. “It isn’t against policy but it seldom happens. The men here…many are married, others aren’t looking for a wife especially one who’ll…”

“Whore herself out for money?”

“We don’t sell sex.” His face sobered but his lips turned up a bit at the corners. “That’d be illegal.”

“Exactly what do you sell?” She should’ve expected that answer but the man had her entire life on paper. He had to know she wasn’t a cop.

“We sell time. Companionship.” He shrugged. “Entertainment.”

“And how we accomplish those things is up to us?”

“Of course. As long as it isn’t illegal. You’ll be drug tested regularly before shifts. What you do on your time is your business but if you test positive too many times–even positive for past usage you’ll be fired.”

“Then my free time isn’t actually my business, is it?” She truly didn’t care about the drug test. She didn’t do them, never had, but his duplicity about all of this annoyed her.

“Some habits spill over into the Club and that is my business.” His eyes were hard. He wasn’t kidding even a little about this.

“I don’t do drugs anyway.” She tapped her temple. “Clear head and all that.”

“I’m well aware of your habits.” He glanced at the envelope. “Let me explain how you get paid.”

“I got the job?” She didn’t know if she wanted to celebrate or throw up. This was why she was here, but she really didn’t want to become a whore. She wasn’t a virgin but she’d honestly cared for the few guys with whom she’d been intimate.

“Did you really doubt it?” His eyes roamed over her face, stalling on her lips for one hot second before drifting over her body. His gaze darkened with desire. “You’re an exceptionally beautiful woman. It’d be a disservice to my members not to hire you.”

“Thank you.” Her breasts tingled and a slow throb started between her legs. This man was too good looking for her good.

“First, the salary.” He slid a contract over to her. “You’ll start with a base pay.”

She scanned it. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t going to make her rich.

“Expecting more?”

She met his eyes. “Actually, yes.” She wasn’t doing this for so little.

“Then, you’ll earn it.” He handed her a pamphlet. “This is how you get your raises and bonuses.”

She took her time reading it. This was her future. She couldn’t afford to hurry through it. “My job title is Pleasure Associate?” She almost laughed.

“Yeah.” He smiled. “In a time of Administrative Assistants and Sanitation Workers, I thought that was a fitting title.”

“It is.” She smiled and looked back at the contract. “The members vote?”

“Yes. All members are encouraged to vote every time they visit the Club. The more votes you get the more your base pay is for the next week. The fewer, the less, but it’ll never go below what’s on the contract. It’s quite simple.”

“How many members come in on a given day?”

“Depends on the day, but on average we have several hundred members visit every day.”

She ran her finger down the chart on the pamphlet. “Wow!” She could make a fortune.

“Don’t expect all of them to vote for you every day.” He leaned toward her. “That doesn’t happen.”

“Of course not.” Still, it was better than she’d expected. A lot better. She could quit sooner than she’d even dreamed.

She’d grown up dirt poor one day and living in mansions the next, all depending on her mother’s current lover. She’d learned to become very frugal for the lean times.

“There are also the gifts you receive from the members.”

“Gifts?” She scanned the pamphlet. There was nothing about that in here.

“Yes. They pay you for your time.” His brow lifted as if saying, You get it, right?

Oh, she understood. That was the whore part. “What’s your cut?”

“Nothing. The gifts are all yours.”

“Really?” Pimps always took a cut, usually a huge one.

“Yes. Really.” He took another sip of his drink. “I want my employees to be happy. Money makes them happy.”

“I’m sure it does but…What’s your turnover rate?” She’d done some research and La Petite Mort Club was almost always hiring.

“Low average.”

“Why do so many leave?” She had no intentions of staying longer than she had to, but this kind of money could be addicting.

“Many are putting themselves through school. They quit once they graduate.”

“Really?” She’d never considered people worked as whores to pay for college.

“You were right about your pussy being the same as others.”

“Excuse me?” Even though she’d been the one to say it, right now it seemed more crass than necessary.

“Sex is only part of a pleasurable evening or experience. The members are rich, successful, business people who want a sexy, sensual partner who’s also intelligent and witty.”

“Is that why we’re meeting? You were concerned about my intelligence.” That explained a lot. “I didn’t go to college and I wasn’t too focused in high school but I’m not stupid.”

“No, you’re definitely not that.” He moved to the front of his desk and leaned against it. “Sign the contract and we can start the next phase.”

She re-read the contract and signed it. He leaned across the desk and put it in the manila envelope with her personal information.

“What’s the next phase?” She stared up at him. The bulge in his pants had grown considerably.

“I show you around the Club. Get you used to Club life.” He touched her cheek, his hand gentle.

He was gorgeous but he wasn’t for her. “Is that”—she let her eyes drift to his crotch—“a requirement for getting the job.”

“Ah…I’ve never had anyone ask me that.” He dropped his hand.

“No offense.” She touched his knee. “If it is, that’s fine.” She was going to have sex with less attractive men soon, starting with him might not be a bad idea.

“And if it’s not?” He rested his hand on hers.

“Then, I’ll pass.”

“Are you only into women? It’s fine if you are. There are plenty of lesbians here and men who like to watch them.”

She laughed. “No one has turned you down in a long time, have they?”

“Well, no.” A frown line formed between his eyes. “I can’t remember the last…Hmm.”

“Someone has turned you down though, right? At least once.” Even her heart had been broken in the past.

His brow wrinkled. “Uhm…now that I think about it…No. Unless you count Becky in first grade.” He grinned. “She wasn’t happy when I pushed her off the swing.”

“Smart girl.” She laughed.

“Yes, she was.” He moved back to the other side of his desk. “This is going to sound arrogant.”

“More arrogant than I must be a lesbian because I don’t want to have sex with you?” She’d never expected to enjoy herself but Ethan was easy to talk to and hot.

“Well, yes.” He grinned but then sobered. “Seriously, though. I know your history.” He tapped the envelope. “Of course, I don’t know what you’ve done with your four partners but I can guess that there are many, many things at this Club that you can’t even imagine.”

“I’ve done some research.” She’d spent hours reading about the BDSM lifestyle.

“That’s good but it isn’t the same.” He reached across the desk and took her hand. “I can show you. I have experience showing newbies, breaking them in gently. Others here don’t.”

“So, you’re doing this for me?” She barely kept from laughing. He was arrogance personified but she liked him.

“And for me too.” His eyes roamed her body. “As much as you’re right and pussies are similar they’re never exactly the same and I…well, I like new.”

“I bet you do”—she squeezed his hand—“but I believe there are others here who’d like to be the first to break me in.” She folded her hands and placed them on her lap. His offer had merit but she was here for the money. “And I bet they’d pay top dollar to see the genuine surprise in my eyes when I experience these things for the first time.”

“I’m sure they will.” He stood. “But be careful, Desiree. I don’t tolerate abuse, but some do like it rough and that’s allowed.”

“O-okay.” Maybe, she should let him show her the ways of Club life.

“Remember. The bouncers are here for your protection and someone is always watching, especially the newbies.”

“They watch?” Why was she surprised?

“Yes. It’s for your safety.” He sat on the edge of the desk again. “I’m very careful about the people I allow into my Club. They know that consent is the number one rule.”

“Even for me? I mean, for the…us?” Do whores get to consent? Wasn’t that implied by their job description?

“For everyone. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Ever. With anyone.” He smiled slightly. “Trust me. If consent wasn’t mandatory, we wouldn’t be talking right now.”

“Oh.” Her eyes dropped to his crotch again and he was still aroused.

“So, take it slow. Decide who you feel good about and go from there.”

Take it slow. That wasn’t a bad idea. She could meet the men. Get to know them. “I don’t have to…have sex at all?”

“No. You don’t.”

“Then…” How did he stay in business?

“Votes and gifts. Remember.”

“Right.” She could collect her base pay but the real money came from the happy clients.

“You sure you want to do this?”

The concern in his eyes almost made her cry. Once she’d started to develop breasts, no man, besides her brother, had ever looked at her like he truly cared if she were okay. Their eyes had been filled with lust, as if she were something for them to use and enjoy. The only exceptions had been her father and half-brother who’d looked at her with disgust.

“Desiree.” He took her hand. “If you need a job, I can hire you to wait tables or work as a maid. The pay isn’t as good but you won’t starve.”

“No.” She pulled free from his grasp. “I want to do this.” She liked sex. She could do this. She could do anything for a few years. She stood. “When do I start?”

“You’re not pregnant, you’re STD free and your birth control device is good for another two years.” He straightened. “So, as soon as you like.” He walked around his desk. “You’ll be part-time the first three months. After that we’ll discuss full-time and benefits.”

“You give your employees benefits?”

“The full-time ones, yes. I told you. I want people to be happy and I want them to stay.” He opened a drawer.

No matter how happy she might be working here, she wasn’t staying. She wasn’t going to sell her body until it was old and no one wanted it like her mother, the men getting older and poorer as the years went by.

Ethan handed her a bracelet. It was a lovely, light brown leather with the Club’s initials etched in gold. “Wear this when you’re working. It lets everyone know that your…time is for sale.”

“Will you show me the Club?”

“I thought—”

“Not break me in, but show me around so I know how to dress.”

“Provocative always works but sure.” He held out his arm.

“Julie hates me.” She put her hand on his forearm. She usually didn’t care what other women thought of her, but bosses could be a problem.”

“You, my dear, will report directly to me.”

“Thank you.”

“All new hires do the first month.” He opened the door. “I suggest you make amends with Julie before thirty days is over.”

“Got it.” That wasn’t going to be easy, but she’d do whatever was necessary. She always had and always would.