Lyra Parish - Weak for Him

One.

I reached behind my back and fidgeted with the clasp.

Two.

Only one more to go.

Three.

I slowly removed the straps. That was it; the girls were free.

Completely exposed, I stood with my head held high and tried to tell myself I didn't strip down to bare nothingness in front of a stranger. But that's just what I did.

I inched the thigh-highs from the top of my legs.

"No. Leave those. But remove the rest."

"The rest?" But that left only my panties.

The black lace felt cold in my fingers. I took my time inching them down my legs and dropped them on my clothes.

"Shaven, completely. Not what I expected from you. Not. At. All."

"Why? Do I not look like I take care of myself or something?"

I stood, vulnerable in thigh-highs and red heels, in front of a beautiful monster. But in reality, I chose it, so monster was a bit harsh.

My breasts and sex were exposed to all of Vegas, or at least that's what it felt like.

Have I lost my fucking mind? Am I this desperate for a job?

A nagging voice inside answered back... Apparently, and yes.

Mr. Felton stalked toward me like a tiger with smooth and fluid movements.

Behind me, he slowly pulled my hair from its business professional bun until dark locks fell around my shoulders and above my breasts. Inspecting every part of me, he slowly circled around my body and let out a moan to let me know that he approved of what he saw. All I could do was peer out the window at the Vegas strip. What the fuck was I doing? I needed to know.

I no longer wanted to look at him. Instead, I focused on the little rays of sun that sprouted through the cotton-clouded sky, so blue that I practically got lost in it.

"Did you hear me?" He was speaking to me, but I had traveled a million miles away.

"Sorry, Mr. Felton, what did you say?"

"It's amazing. Do you know how many women try to accomplish what you pull off so naturally?" The word naturally left his plump lips. Silence lingered.

The blood rushed to my face, and I could feel my cheeks turn pink.

"You're joking, right?" I tried to pull the edge from my voice, act like I didn't care, but I couldn't. I expected him to say something else. Something different like, "fuck me now or get on your knees" by the way he looked at me.

"You don't even know what you've got, do you? You're fucking amazing, Ms. Downs. You don't try to be beautiful... You just are. I have a handful of ladies that would die for these legs, waist, and for"—he cupped my breasts in his hands—"these."

I tensed, and he squeezed, but immediately let go. He continued to stand inches from my body, and I could smell him. Clean like soap and summer rain, and I almost soaked up his scent. The edge of his suit brushed across my nipples, and they were rock hard. My hormones, not whore moans, went haywire.

"My business is built upon confidence, Ms. Downs, confidence in whom you are, and with what you have. You've got the body, the perfect ass and tits, pretty face, the fierce attitude, but you seem embarrassed about your body, and I can't understand why."

I didn't speak.

"No. It's not…" He paused, chuckled, and then fell silent. I was confused.

"I can't believe I didn't recognize a virgin when I saw one. Usually I'm very good at spotting them, but you, you were a little hard to crack. I'm not fooled often."

"Is it written across my forehead or something?"

"I could tell when I touched you. Your reaction—you actually flinched. But the fact that you are standing here proves that you've got an inkling of a wild side. Beyond the self-doubt, another person waits to be unlocked and set free. Most women, a majority of them, actually, leave at the beginning… but you're not like them. You're different. You are the virgin who stayed."

He placed his hand under my chin and forced me to look into his emerald-green eyes.

"If you'll trust me, and agree to be one of my girls, I can make your wildest dreams come true."

"So let me get this straight." I put my hands on my hips. "I guess I'm not applying for an accounting position?"

"I've got the perfect position for you, but I don't think you can handle it."

With his face close, his warm breath tingled across my skin. He left me utterly speechless.

"Would you like a drink, Ms. Downs?"

"Yes, actually I would."

"Rocks or straight up?"

"Um. Rocks."

Mr. Felton sat my drink on the edge of the desk and stood on the other side. He watched me move across the room, naked and in red heels. As I approached my drink, he grinned. I reached over the desk and chugged it fast. My throat burned.

"Thirsty, are we? Refill?"

I slid the glass toward him. He poured Maker's Mark midway on the rocks glass, and I slammed it down.

"Another?"

"Bring it."

My face burned along with my body. I could feel the alcohol running through my veins, calming the tense muscles and washing my jittery nerves away with each drink. He poured another, filled the glass to the rim, and as I tried to swallow down the next round of liquid gold, he stopped me.

"When's the last time you've had hard liquor?"

"Never. I'm barely twenty-two."

"That doesn't matter. I know seventeen-year-olds that can drink me under the table."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to be seen as a prude twenty-two-year-old virgin who never drank a drop and cursed like a sailor.

Instead, I lifted the glass and tipped it up, making sure to get each drop.

"Why are you here, Ms. Downs?"

"I have no fucking clue."

He puckered his lips a bit and then raised an eyebrow.

"Then you should ask your body to tell you because you keep looking at me, and undressing and fucking me with your eyes. I'm making you an offer. Join my team. Or like I said at the beginning, you can walk that tight ass right back through the door it entered."

My mouth dropped open.

"My business is successful because I have the ability to make all of my clients fantasies come true, and profit from it."

"I don't think I fully understand what I would be committing to."

"Have you ever heard the saying sex sells ?"

I nodded.

"Well, I'm the supplier."

With those words, my mind took a moment to catch up with my body that seemed so willing to do whatever Felton said.

Vulnerability coated me.

I crossed my legs and placed my arms over the girls as the reality of the situation revealed its self. The room began to spin.

Why the hell was I naked in his office?

Living . I almost forgot.

" Isell sex. We are human. We have sexual, animalistic needs, and there is a market. It's nothing more than a physical act with a literal happy ending, but not for the faint of heart or frail."

"You sell women?"

"If you are implying I rent out whores, you are incorrect. I offer a high-end call service. There is a difference. We are class, not trash, and have clients that pay close to 20k for one night. My girls are at the top of the sexual pyramid. Rigorous interviews and compatibility tests are involved as well. I'm not running a meat service, Ms. Downs. It's offensive for one to imply so."

I opened my mouth and closed it immediately.

"My girls have rights and protection, legally and physically. The rules are strict, and everyone must abide by them, including the clients. Women beg to be a part of The Elite, and I deny thousands, yes, thousands per year."

"I… I…"

"I'm offering you something that not many are given, an opportunity to join my team, to become one of my girls."

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."