SAVAGE HEART is finally here!

Hey guys!

I know its been a while since I’ve posted a blog – I’ve been busy writing the newest novels for the Savage Series but alas, I am back!

A lot has changed over the past few months, I signed with my now publisher Inkitt, did some travelling, spent the holidays with friends and family but really, spent most of my time with my laptop as I swooned over heroes and heroines that make up this crazy, sexy, emotional Savage family.

And with that, I bring some good news 🙂

Grab your wine glasses ladies and gents and lets cheers, because SAVAGE HEART book 7 in the Savage Series is available tomorrow!!  and – its on sale for $0.99!

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Yup – you read that right… $0.99 – but only for tomorrow! so mark it in your calendar, kids – January 31st is a big… BIG day.

you can get it here…

Let me tell you a little about this newest story:

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She’s a doctor, guided by her morals. He’s an ex-soldier, robbed of his ethics and programmed to kill. When they’re two worlds suddenly collide, will they crash and burn? 

For the last seven years, Ethan Black ceased to exist. Known only as the Reaper, Ethan prefers his solitary life where the only rules he lives by are his own. That is until his life is placed in the hands of his angel and he has no choice but to listen if he wants to survive. 

The last thing Stella Savage needs is another overbearing arrogant soldier in her life but when she finds a lifeless Ethan Black on the side of the road, the doctor in her is forced to help him. After escaping his kidnappers and being subject to a drug destined to erase his humanity, Stella is running on precious time to save whatever is left of his soul… and his heart.

and here…

I can’t wait for you to get to know Ethan and Stella and their emotional love story… I may be partial, but I think its one of my favs 😉

Warm Wishes and Happy Reading,

J Woods signature xo

 

 

Reaper’s Claim by Simone Elise

BOOK DESCRIPTION:

In my motorcycle club I’ve earned the name ‘Reaper’ and now I have my claim on Abby Harrison.

Reaper:
I didn’t know what love was, but I knew what want was, and I wanted Abby. When I walked out of the club and saw her I was stone cold sober. She was quietly beautiful and unlike any other woman I’d had before. But she was the daughter of the president of Satan’s Sons MC and completely out of my reach.

Abby:
Everyone knew The Reaper and how he got his name, so I never expected him to be my salvation when my sisters drunk boyfriend wanted to lay hands on me. I thought my innocence would be lost in that alley, until he showed up and saved me. I know being with Reaper will lead to trouble, but I don’t know if I have the strength to stay away.

Being together might be dangerous, but outlaws are meant to break the rules.

Reaper's Claim

REVIEW:

A slew of leather vests, tattoos, an MC and a fight for love… Give me a motorcycle club romance and I am a smitten kitten.

I was immediately pulled into this novel, the first I’ve read by Simone Elise. The author did a great job of drawing the readers attention instantly and I was hooked. This novel definitely has the bones of a well thought out motorcycle club romance and I found myself not being able to put it down. I was surprised at the length originally and I found that there were parts the author could have omitted but all in all I really enjoyed the overall story. I found myself yelling at my iPad a few times and felt my heart break along with the smiles and joy throughout this emotional roller coaster.

I loved the star-crossed lovers story and the way Kade and Abby’s romance started out made me fall in love with the characters even more. Kade is one sexy biker and Abby is a gorgeous ball of sass and together they are explosive in the best kind of way. The secondary characters were just as frustrating and charming – Kim, Roach Trigger and Brad. Ah, Brad, the sweetest, rough and tough biker had me swooning. That explosiveness turns into danger and I enjoyed how Elise merged the two into a riveting story line.

I will tell you that I was so shocked that I couldn’t turn any more pages and the cliffhanger Simone Elise leaves you with is maddening in the best way. I will be waiting for the next novel… in the meantime, I’m off to find me a Reaper.

Where to find Seline Elise: 

Goodreads

Twitter

Wattpad 

Inkitt

Amazon

Sunday Brunch – The Victory Lap

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

 

The morning after. We’ve all had that nightmare of a moment where you open your eyes and you don’t recognize the ceiling, or the uncomfortable mattress you’re currently laying on, you don’t even recognize the limp arm draped across your chest or the snoring that’s coming from beside you. It was probably during those two slutty years of college, or… last weekend. You don’t want to look, you want to close your eyes and hope that the Sandman is playing one of his nasty tricks again.

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But you know in your heart of hearts, that last night after what should have been your last gin and tonic, your alter ego Mercedes made an appearance and took home this fine fella, who, after you look him over you realize, eh, you’ve done worse. He’s probably a gentleman and would open your car door for you should he ever take you out on a date (chivalry, lol!) But you know what this means, Mercedes left you lookin a mess, like your closest relative is the raccoon digging through the dumpster out back.

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Luckily that skanky bitch (aka drunk you) didn’t pack your bag and you learned your lesson after the fifth (-teenth) time you had to walk home in your stilettos and a pair of his basketball shorts. Sliding out from under the clammy fingers trying to grope you even in his sleep (gentleman, remember?) you start picking up the trail of scattered clothes like they’re breadcrumbs you left yourself the night before. After you get over the initial terror that is looking back at you in the bathroom mirror, you wash your face with a questionable bar soap and throw your hair up with the single hair tie in your purse. Stealing one of his oversized t shirts you tie it in a cute knot at your hip and pull on your black spanx, the ones without the pee hole because they can actually pass for workout shorts – and who just went to the gym? You did! (damn girl, you healthy AF). Rolling up your outfit from the night before you shove it into your purse (yes, its small enough that it can fit in there) and you leave your prince charming (does anyone remember what his name is?) to start your very respectable “I got laid” parade knowing your mother will never be proud of you. But you still cute though!

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Stay pretty. maddie-signature

Sunday Brunch – The Delusional Dater

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet (so it must be true.)

Aloof; calm, cool and collected, put down the phone. These are the things you keep repeating to yourself over and over because you just had the best sex of your life and now he’s leaving and you don’t want him to leave, you want him to stay… forever. And ever. But you can’t say that, you can’t even allude to it because that would make you bat shit crazy, and he doesn’t need to see that side of you… yet. So as he slings on his jacket, you subtly sniff the air around him just to get one last smell of that delicious cologne that shredded your panties, you smile at him and thank him for the great night. Aloof, calm, cool and collected.

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You lay in bed with a smile on your face as you start to map out your future with Mr. Right (now) and you can’t wait for your 2nd date. He hasn’t asked you on a 2nd date yet, but you know its coming, it has to be coming, this night was just too perfect. You send a message to your group chat of best girlfriends and tell them all about your date and that you’ve found the one. THE ONE.

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The next day you consider deleting your Tinder because why would you need it anymore? His text still hasn’t come but it will, you know it will. You scroll through his photos again with a wistful sigh as you plan out how the holidays are going to work, will he come over for Thanksgiving? You want him to meet your mom, she will love him.

You keep this mindset until your best friend comes over and slaps you out of your delusional fog of bullshit and makes you realize he’s just another fuckboy (who still hasn’t text you) who gave you a great orgasm. She tells you orgasms are great but fuckboys aren’t. ‘The One’ and fuckboy are not words you put in a sentence together, the only word that should go with a fuckboy is BYE.

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Put yourself first, eat pizza and realize how fucking gorgeous you are. maddie-signature

Sunday Brunch – Side Pieces

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“Gentle reminder, it’s not a walk of shame if you stop for brunch on the way” – the internet

 

Alright, so I literally had to Urban Dictionary this shit;

Urban Dictionary: The other woman. Also see Goomad.

So naturally, I looked up Goomad: Italian Term for the broad you’re banging on the side. The other woman.

While I was on my Googling journey, I came across this catchy little tune entitled Side Pieces by Drake and Brian McKnight that I listened to probably twenty times in part because its Drake and Brian McKnight and the fact that its actually hilarious, each time making me painfully aware of how pathetic dating can actually be.

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I know you’ll never be more
And you’ll always be less
But there’s comfort in knowing that you’re okay being second best
I already got a starter but I’m looking for the rest of my team

This is probably one of those terms that was invented to cover up the negative stigma that clouds “The Other Woman” or “Mistress” (ew) but side piece well, that sounds like something you could handle, maybe even a little bit classy (lol, yeah right) and that perhaps you don’t need to reevaluate every aspect of your life.

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Have I ever been someone’s side piece? 100% I have, I don’t know if I know anyone who hasn’t been someone’s side piece at one point in their life or another whether they knew it at the time or not. Are you kind of an asshole if you know you’re the side piece and keep him in your roster anyways? Maybe. Okay probably, but no judgements girl, it’s your journey.

I ended up going out with this football player who I’d met on some random dating app and when he invites you to his house as your “first date” (we’re going to loosely use the word date here) if you don’t know what’s going to happen, well, honey, you shouldn’t be going to his house then. Naturally I texted his name and address to my girl, you know, safety and shit. I knocked on his door and in less than ten minutes of me being there, my skanky ass was naked. I couldn’t be ashamed, I had to own it; one thing I’ve learned, life is way too short to be embarrassed of your inner slut, let her free girl.

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You know how they say, it’s not the size that matters, it’s how he uses it? Well boy was hitting tens in every category. It was a memorable afternoon that had me smiling for a few days; until I realized the sweet nothings he was whispering in my ear, he was whispering them in other ears too. I wasn’t just the side piece, I was one in a harem of side pieces. There were no rules, it wasn’t a relationship, I basically showed up at his doorstep in my birthday suit begging to be touched by this sexy giant, but in the end, it wasn’t enough for me. One thing I learned from this experience was the fact that I’m not okay with fighting for someone’s attention, I’m greedy and I want all of it.

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So the questionable morals of the side piece fairy tale, should you settle for being runner up? (hell no) Remember, you’re a side piece for a reason, that reason being he’s a shitty human being.

Side Pieces – just another play in the mindfuckery game of dating. Don’t share your crown, girl; wear it, own it, you’re a queen.

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SWIPE RIGHT – THE CHRONICLES OF AN UNPAID PROSTITUTE – Chapter Twenty Four + Epilogue

*read all of the chapters for Swipe Right – The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute in order here

Chapter Twenty Four

 

He pulled back, holding my upper arms. He cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. I suddenly felt the heat of embarrassment; that was clearly not what he wanted. “Maddie…”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. I just thought… oh god.” I turned and ran away, hearing him calling after me. I’d just made a pass at one of my clients and it was quite clear he didn’t feel the same.

Running into the woman’s bathroom, I felt tears on my face. What the hell was I doing? How did I get here? I placed both hands on the counter and hung my head, just breathing. After ten minutes, the bathroom door opened and Ben walked in. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why are you always running away from me? Am I that scary?”

“No, Ben, I’m so sorry. I’m so embarrassed. I shouldn’t have done that. I just… I don’t know, I’ve developed some sort of weird crush on you and I clearly took it way too far.”

He leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can’t say that I’m not flattered.” He paused and I could see him sorting through his thoughts. “But the thing is, I’m gay.”

I felt it. The upheaval then the drop of my stomach. Well that was unexpected. “What?”

“I’m gay, Maddie.”

I dropped my head against the mirror with a loud moan. “What the hell? But you’re always with different women.”

“Different women who are business associates.”

“But my grandmother told me that her friend Marg’s grandson was single and living in San Francisco and that we should hook up.”

“Well, I am single and living in San Francisco and we should hook up, for like shopping or grabbing a coffee. I think I’m a pretty fun guy. And I’m an awesome fucking friend.”

I stared at him before laughing. I’d never heard him swear before, he’d always been so stuffy, so proper. “Can we go get drunk?”

“Yes!” He took my hand and we walked back toward the party. “You know I do have a brother.”

“Is he gay too?”

“No, he is very heterosexual.”

“Ah, as tempting as that promo sounds, I think I need to take a step back from the non-dating, dating world.”

“Yeah, revenge fucks get old real quick.”

“How did you know?”

“You’re pretty easy to read,” he told me with a wink.

“You’re right, they do. My grandmother called me a prostitute tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you at least getting paid?”

I sighed. “No. If anything I’m losing money.” We both started laughing at the ridiculous state I found myself in.

“And it wasn’t a new campaign I wanted to talk to you about.”

“No?”

“No. I wanted to run an idea past you. I want to open up a firm, and if you’re willing, I want it to be yours. You run it, it’s your name on the sign, and it’s your baby.”

“What? But I’m just starting out.” I felt all my dreams colliding together as I stared at him.

“No you’re not. You’ve been sitting in a cubicle for three years with other people taking credit for your work. I’ve been paying attention which is why I specifically asked for you to take my campaign. You’re too good to be stuck behind someone else’s name, Maddie. You’d be surprised how much weight your name carries in the marketing world.”

 

Epilogue

 

A year later, I was emptying one of the last boxes in my new office of my new company, the one that had my name on the door. Ben had become one of my best friends, my very gay best friend, and he was a person I relied on in my daily life. I was meeting up with all of my friends tonight to celebrate and Ben asked if he could bring someone, there was no other answer than yes. Especially because I was very curious who this new man friend of his was. Oh la la.

For the first time in a long time, I felt independent. I didn’t need to have sex with a stranger in order to validate myself in some ass backward way. I was comfortable being alone because I finally knew my self-worth. If a man didn’t want to take me out on a date, a real date without sending a dick pic or taking me to a sex club or asking me for money or was on parole, then I didn’t need them. I wanted to let it happen organically so I closed all of my dating site accounts. Maybe in six months I would try again, but right now I was okay without the one night stands.

Laughing over drinks, the girls and I were waiting for Ben to show. In a non-business setting, the man was consistently fashionably late. When he finally arrived, silent looks were exchanged around the table as they approached. Dayum, the man friend was fine. “Maddie, ladies, this is my brother, Corey.” Ah, the resemblance now made sense.

Reaching out his hand, I gripped it with mine. “Nice to meet you, Maddie. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I heard the suggestive noise Lisa made from beside me as she sipped her drink. I pretended to ignore her.

I felt my smile, the warmth that was these people as they surrounded me while we drank and laughed and celebrated.

Ben, who placed another drink in front of me (like I needed another), wrapped an arm around my shoulders as he leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Not gay.”

“Got it, thank you so much.” I rolled my eyes at him and shoved him away.

“Very single,” he mouthed as he took at seat across from me.

“Ben’s told me that you just moved into your new office.” I turned to Corey whose attention was solely on me. He continued to ask me questions and it was a conversation that was interesting and intriguing. He was asking questions that no other guy had ever asked me before; he asked about my family, what I liked to do. He was so attentive. It was the first conversation I’d had in a long time in a casual setting where the man wasn’t acting like he wanted to immediately take me home to bed. Besides Ben, that was. Because he liked the p just as much as I did. I found out more about Ben’s brother, that he lived right here in San Francisco, and I’d never seen this fine piece of man meat, and that he owned his own consulting firm. I wondered then, if this was the grandson Marg wanted to set me up with.

I looked around at my friends who were all happy and laughing, most of them now relationships, and I knew that I wasn’t the same girl I was a year ago. I didn’t feel some misplaced need that if my friends were in a relationship, I had to fuck my way into one too. If a man wanted to take me out, I wanted to know it was going to be worth it. I wanted to try the friends before lover’s thing; I wanted conversation and romance and wooing and hearts and flowers and everything in between.

As the night came to a close, the fantastic four were left – me, Jamie, Ben and his sexy brother Corey. Jamie and I stood on the sidewalk hailing a taxi while we said our goodnights. As the yellow car pulled up, Corey opened the door, like a fucking gentleman. Jamie climbed in before me; I felt his strong had on my wrist as I moved to follow her. “Let me take you out for dinner.”

I smiled. “Like a date?”

His grin did something to my lady parts. “Yeah, like a date.” A real date! I felt butterflies and as much as I wanted to jump at the opportunity and tell him yes, then ask why he was still clothed and point to the dark alley behind us, I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn’t that same girl anymore. Ben’s brother was different, a good, delicious, sexy different. But so was I. “Maybe.”

The End

I hope you enjoyed reading about Maddie and her shenanigans as much as I loved writing about them. If you take away anything from this online book, I hope its that its better to be safe than sorry – wrap it up.

My deepest gratitude & Warm Wishes.

J.

SWIPE RIGHT – THE CHRONICLES OF AN UNPAID PROSTITUTE – Chapter Twenty Three

*read all of the chapters for Swipe Right – The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute in order here

Chapter Twenty Three

 

There were so many people at the party. The DJ was playing music and people were dancing. It wasn’t a typical early bird special, senior citizen party, no sir, Mimi and her friend liked to dance and they liked to drink. Music was bumping, drinks were flowing, food was being served. It was the perfect way to celebrate my grandmother’s birthday.

I took a glass of pink champagne on my way in with eyes on the food table. Mimi stayed behind with her friend Marg so they could make an entrance. A girl always needed to make an entrance. There was a round of loud cat calls and cheers when they finally walked in – queens, both of them.

Guests immediately gravitated toward the dance floor. I watched with fondness from the sidelines. “I think she’s enjoying herself,” my mom mused as she sidled up next to me.

“Me too, good job on the party mom.” A man approached us with a broad smile. He was about my mom’s age, give or take a few years. They seemed familiar, comfortable, some twinkle in both of their eyes as he asked her to dance. And wouldn’t you know, she actually looked flustered. My mom had a crush. I leaned in, “Go, Mom. Dance, have fun.” And as I was left standing alone, I could almost see the spotlight on the bar.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

I whipped around at the familiar voice behind me. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Your level of stalking is starting to become alarming.”

“Oh Maddie! There you are. Marg wanted to introduce you to her grandson,” Mimi almost shouted from across the room. Her and Marg with champagne glasses in hand, arm in arm came walking over.

“Oh! You two have already met, how wonderful.”

“Ben is your grandson?” I asked, almost outraged.

“Mimi is your grandmother?”

“Wait, you two know each other?” Mimi and Marg asked at the same time.

“Yes, we know each other.”

“Ben, doesn’t she look beautiful.” I immediately felt my face flame. I downed the rest of my champagne in one sip. Oh god. “Ask her to dance.” This is what it felt like. This was what utter mortification felt like.

Ben, bless him, took me out on the dancefloor and placed his hands on my hips as I wrapped mine around his neck. Damn, the man smelled so good. “You do look beautiful, by the way.”

I smiled up at him, “Thanks.” The rest of the song was silent, and when it ended I, for some insane moment, decided I was feeling brave. I was an idiot. “Do you want to go talk somewhere more quiet?”

“Sure.” He grabbed us both a glass of champagne and I slipped my arm through his. He ushered me out on to one of the balconies. It was a now or never moment and I felt the butterflies. Ben was the perfect guy. He was handsome, successful, nice.

“You had mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about another campaign?” I’d made sure to touch his arm, all the little tricks I’d learned over the past few months.

He laughed. “You know, we don’t need to talk about business all the time.”

“Fair enough.”

He held up his glass, “Cheers.” I clinked my glass against his and took the plunge. I leaned in and kissed Ben Davis.

*tomorrow – Chapter Twenty Four

SWIPE RIGHT – THE CHRONICLES OF AN UNPAID PROSTITUTE – Chapter Seventeen

*read all of the chapters for Swipe Right – The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute in order here

Chapter Seventeen

 

When are you coming home next? Your grandmother is driving me crazy – next time you’re here we need to rearrange the living room furniture.

My mom was always changing something in her house. Every room had been redone, a silent effort to erase every part of my father in every nook and cranny. I had to give her props, what she’d done was beautiful and I had to admit I liked the current version of our home better than it had ever been. ‘Okay, why are we rearranging furniture?’ I replied.

‘It doesn’t have any fen sway going on’ she typed back with the praying emoji.

‘I see… need some of that fen sway around… or some Feng Shui – either one works.’

‘Don’t come at me with that negative energy. You knew what I meant, don’t be an asshole about it.’

I laughed. ‘Love you, Mom.’

‘Love you more.’

 

I looked through the peephole at who was knocking on my door. “Password,” I demanded. Beth held up a bottle of wine. I opened the door.

Sitting on the couch, Beth turned to Jamie and I. “I have a really good idea for tonight.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Two words. Lesbian. Bar.”

I laughed. “Hey, I’m open minded.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Jamie mumbled under her breath.

“Okay Glass House, thanks for your opinion.”

“Glass house? What have you been getting into, Jamie? Or should I ask who?” Beth asked, wagging her eyebrows.

“Yes Jamie, please tell us,” I teased. I looked at the invisible watch on my wrist. “Is it time to take your pills yet?”

“Oh!” Beth started. “Are we playing the Guess Your STI game? Is it one word or two? Permanent or no?” I laughed at her rapid fire questions.

“It’s not charades!” Jamie yelled before throwing a pillow at us and going to her room.

I turned to look at Beth who was inadvertently still playing. “One word, not permanent,” I finally answered.

“Chlamydia,” she guessed with confidence.

“Got it in one.”

“Yasss.” She high-fived my outstretched hand. “That was a fun game,” she mused, sipping her wine.

“Agreed, we should go to Hasbro with that shit.” We both laughed.

“So, lesbian bar?”

“Lesbian bar,” I agreed after considering the options. Maybe I could be with a girl, maybe there was a little lesbian inside of me – we’d find out at the end of the night (ba dum tss). Jamie passed, deciding to sulk at home.

In conclusion, lesbian bars were awesome. I was having the best time as Beth and I danced the night away. I saw her smile at the same time I felt hands come around my waist from behind. The girl moved her hips with mine as we swayed to the beat. When the song ended, I turned around realized how pretty she was. “Can I buy you a drink?” she asked, leaning in to speak over the music. And let’s be honest, I wasn’t one to turn down a drink.

We’d taken two shots at the bar before she leaned in and kissed me. I kissed her back, her lips soft, her tongue greedy. And I felt nothing. “I’m sorry,” I said, pulling away. I looked around and couldn’t see Beth anywhere. “I am so not a lesbian.”

“You sound disappointed,” she said, smiling.

“I am. I wanted to come here and try something different and I’m so sorry if I led you on. I thought, I don’t know what I thought. I’m an asshole.”

She had the decency to laugh, “You’re not an asshole. I get it.”

“Do you? I almost wish this wasn’t how I felt, you’re so hot and nice and you just don’t have a penis.”

“That I do not.”

“I really like penises,” I admitted.

“Come on, your turn to buy the drinks. You can be my wing-woman.”

“Done! I have a friend you know, she’s a lesbian. Well, she’s at least bi.”

 

It was the big launch for Ben’s company. I couldn’t remember ever been so stressed in my life. I needed everything to go well otherwise I would never be able to show my face again. I would need to find a cave and become a troglodyte.

It had been a long day and thankfully the campaign received a great response. Success! By the time I left the office, it had grown dark and I just wanted to fall into bed. I waved at the night security guard on my way out when I stopped at the sight of the black car sitting at curb. The door opened ominously and I felt like I was suddenly in Pretty Woman. Ben stepped out.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with a surprised smile.

“I was hoping we could grab a celebratory drink.”

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“A while,” he admitted.

“Why didn’t you come upstairs?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt, plus I had some things to take care of anyways.” I didn’t know what to say so like an idiot, I twiddled with my fingers in front of me. “So, drinks?” he repeated.

“Sure.”

*tomorrow – Chapter Eighteen

SWIPE RIGHT – THE CHRONICLES OF AN UNPAID PROSTITUTE – Chapter Sixteen

*read all of the chapters for Swipe Right – The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute in order here

Chapter Sixteen

 

Just as I was leaving work Wednesday evening, my phone rang. “So sorry Maddie, just found out that I have to head out of town tomorrow and I’ll have to cancel our meeting. Are you free at all right now?”

Ben Davis, ruiner of plans. How was I supposed to say no? I would have to tell my Wednesday night date that I wouldn’t be able to make it. “Um, yeah, sure.”

“Great, I’ll send you the address.”

I arrived at this cool coffee shop right around the corner from my apartment. I’d never seen this place in my life. I really needed to get out more.

I found Ben at a high table, still in his pressed pin stripe suit, his hair perfectly styled, not a single strand out of place. After brief greetings, I got right into it, assuring him that everything was on track for the launch next week. He agreed and went over a few details he’d wanted me to add in and instead of reaching over and strangling him, I simply smiled and nodded. As frustrating as he was, I still couldn’t believe the trust he’d put in me with this project. Our conversation was short, surely one that could have happened over the phone which would have allowed me to keep my date for tonight.

“So, did I pull you away from anything tonight?” He was joking, referencing the last time when he’d made me miss my flight.

“Nothing of importance,” I assured him.

“Oh my god, I really pulled you away from something?” I had to laugh at the apology in his eyes. I waved a hand in the air dismissing it. “Don’t tell me it was a hot date or something.”

This was starting to get a little less professional and a little too personal. “I don’t know if he was hot, I hadn’t met him yet.”

“I feel terrible,” he muttered, putting his hands over his face.

“You should, really. You probably just cost me one of my future husbands.”

He looked up at me with a small smile. “One of your future husbands?”

“Yes. My grandmother always told me, first marriage is for money, second is for love. We’ll never know which one he could have been.” He threw his head back laughing and I was starting to feel that Ben and I were becoming friends.

I excused myself to the bathroom and without realizing, left my phone on table. As I came back a few minutes later, Ben was wearing a sly smile. “What?” I asked, smoothing down my shirt.

“Your phone was going off, you received a bunch of notifications from some dating app.”

“You were going through my phone?” I asked to cover my embarrassment.

“Not going through, no. But I think you could probably start your own reality TV show with all of those suitors wanting your attention.” I covered my face feeling my cheeks flame.

“I should probably call Chris Harrison then, it’ll be the most dramatic season yet.” I loved that Ben laughed, getting my Bachelor reference.

When the night was over, I’d decided to walk and Ben insisted he walk me home. I wished him a safe flight in the morning.

“Who was that?”

I whipped around, throwing a hand over my heart. “Jesus, Darryl. You scared me.”

He smiled. “Sorry.”

“Just someone I work with. Why?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, ignoring my question. Nothing good ever came out of Darryl thinking. “You’re in marketing, right?”

How the hell did he know that? “Yes.” I pulled my keys out, making it clear I wanted to go inside.

“Well, I started my new album track list and I was thinking that when I got it recorded, that you could market it.”

“I don’t think you could afford me, Darryl,” I told him with a smile.

“You wouldn’t do it for free? You know, help a guy out? We’re friends.”

I had my hand on the doorknob. “No,” I confirmed before disappearing into my apartment. I meant my one word answer as a general blanket to every question and statement he’d just uttered.

*tomorrow – Chapter Seventeen

SWIPE RIGHT – THE CHRONICLES OF AN UNPAID PROSTITUTE – Chapter Fifteen

*read all of the chapters for Swipe Right – The Chronicles of an Unpaid Prostitute in order here

Chapter Fifteen

 

In the back of Ben’s limo, on the way back to my apartment we’d decided on ice cream and ringing in the New Year in pajamas. Jamie had struck out with Mark’s friend, who was also a super douche, apparently they all drank the super douche Kool-Aid.

“So, Ben certainly isn’t who you walked in with, yet we are leaving in his car, without him?” Beth pointed out.

I laughed. “Yeah, Ben’s my hot shot client.”

“Oh! Ben. Ben is fucking hot.”

“Yeah, a fact I didn’t quite realize until tonight.”

“I’m sorry, how did you not realize?” Lisa asked.

“I’m not quite sure, to be honest. But it doesn’t matter, he’s a client and he was there with some other girl.”

“What happened to what’s his name?”

“Oh, he turned out to be an asshole. I think I need to start dating women,” I mused.

“You should, it’s a lot of fun.” Beth winked at me making me giggle. Beth had always been open about her sexuality, she loved both the p and the d and she was probably the realest person I’d ever met. She always said she usually preferred girls, they were less complicated.

Back at apartment, unsurprisingly, we opened another bottle of champagne. Because if you’re not having champagne, you’re not doing it right. Or something. Jamie sipped her mug of bubbly (champagne flutes were overrated) and stared at me.

“Yes?”

“Listen, I just wanted to say, without you getting offended, that I think you may be stretching yourself a little thin in the man department.” I raised my eyebrow and challenged her to go on. I could feel Lisa, Angela and Beth’s eyes darting between the two of us. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“How many guys had you slept with when you were with your ex?”

“Three.”

“And what’s your number at now?” she asked.

“That’s two questions.”  She waited, the challenge directed back to me. I made a face at her. “I don’t know… like higher than three. Maybe like fifteen-ish.”

“Fifteen?”

“Something like that.” Beth snorted into her drink while Lisa and Angela both fell back into the couch cushions laughing hysterically. Realizing the new stats, I guess it was a bit of a jump.

 

The next morning I rolled over feeling like I had been run over by a truck. A garbage truck, a gigantic, smelly garbage truck. What the hell happened last night? Wincing at the pounding in my head, I groaned at the flood of memories, the party, the douche, the champagne, the Ben. My hand searched under the covers for my phone; pulling up Ben’s phone number, with one eye closed (it was easier to see the screen that way) I sent him a quick and completely back on the professional train, text message. ‘Thank you for the ride last night’

‘Anytime. Glad you got home okay.’

I’d apparently fallen back into a coma; when I’d woken a few hours later it was past lunch and I was damn hungry. I also had a new message on my phone.

‘Hey sexy, tell me you’re free tonight.’

My stomach dropped. It was Sexter. He wanted to meet up? We had never even talked about meeting up. I swallowed and bit my lip. Our conversations were always pleasurable (pun intended.)

I wrote back, ‘I am.’

‘Good answer. I had an idea, maybe a new experience?’

I held my breath, this could be anything. ‘And what did you have in mind?’

‘A club.’

I frowned. That didn’t sound too exciting. ‘A club?’

‘A sex club.’

Oh, hello! Holy shit, could I do that? Go to a sex club? What even happened at sex clubs? I chewed on my thumbnail as I contemplated. Why the hell not, a new year meant trying new things. ‘Okay.’

 

The club was dark, although I wasn’t exactly expecting blazing lights, they needed to set the mood, made sense. He’d made sure to keep an arm around me, sensing my apprehension. I looked around with wide eyes at the topless bartenders and swings set up in each corner. Swings, hanging from the ceiling. This would forever change my perception of my favourite childhood pastime. Grabbing us a drink, he ushered me to a large red velvet ottoman, there were a few set up as seating around the main room. “Just watch, if you want.” His voice was calm, reassuring. The drink was strong, whatever it was and I was glad for it. As I turned to ask him a question, a couple sat down with us, the woman beside me, her boyfriend beside Sexter. I felt my brows draw together as I watched him lean in and start making out with man beside him. He was so free, so open about it and no one in the room seemed to mind the very public display of affection. Now that I was looking around, I was almost the outsider not making out with someone. People were half naked, touching, kissing, caressing each other. It was a giant free-for-all. Oddly I was turned on watching him make out with a dude. I snapped my head around as I felt a soft touch stroking my leg. Before I knew it, her lips were on mine, her hand dragging mine to touch her. What the fuck was in that drink?

Two hours later I walked out of the club, my hair dishevelled, my head cloudy with confusion. I had no idea what just happened; did I just have sex with a girl? Whatever it was, I think I liked it.

I held my hand out for a taxi. Climbing into the back of the car, I bent over clutching my stomach, laughing hysterically at myself. What the actual fuck.

*tomorrow – Chapter Sixteen