Ménage for the Night Read online

  Ménage for the Night

  C.J. Fallowfield

  Kindle Edition

  Version 1E

  ASIN: B00PMDOG3M

  Copyright © 2014 C. J. Fallowfield

  All Rights Reserved Worldwide

  Any unauthorised reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations and places or events, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  I am a British author and write in British English.

  Image Copyright © 2014

  Edited by Karen J

  Proof Reading by Fallowettes

  Cover Art by Kellie Dennis at Book Cover by Design

  http://www.bookcoverbydesign.co.uk

  Foreword

  Written as standalone quick hot reads, For the Night novellas are told in alternating points of view of Logan Steele, and his client, or clients. However, in order to fully enjoy Logan’s development, they should be read in the sequence that they are released:

  Strangers for the Night

  Virgin for the Night

  Filthy for the Night

  Ménage for the Night

  Sophisticated for the Night

  Biker for the Night

  Dominant for the Night

  Actor for the Night

  For more information on new and existing works, please see my social media links:

  http://www.cjfallowfield.co.uk

  https://www.facebook.com/cjfallowfield

  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7807992.C_J_Fallowfield

  Chapters

  Prologue

  Logan Steele

  Trey Douglas

  Ava Renshaw

  The Bar

  The Lounge

  The Bedroom

  The Bathroom

  Double Trouble

  Client Evaluation

  Next Release

  Other Titles

  Newsletter

  Prologue

  Logan

  My name is Logan Steele. I’m devilishly handsome, seriously ripped, well hung, charismatic and highly sexed. Women just can’t resist me. So when I lost my job in the construction industry and was struggling for cash, I decided to put my assets to good use.

  By day I’m a private personal fitness trainer. By night I’m a high class gigolo.

  I don’t advertise my sexual services anymore, I have a long client list that come to me through word of mouth. I’m that good, I’m booked months in advance. Scores of women pay me extortionately high fees to fulfil their fantasies. And for the most part I do. I have a strict set of rules that I abide by, which are provided in the full contract that you’ll receive along with the booking form, if accepted. I’ve bullet pointed an abridged version below, just so you’re clear before you send me an email request:

  Rules my clients must comply with are:

  I must see a picture in advance.

  I can decline the booking request without explanation.

  I can only be booked for the night.

  All sexual acts must be consensual.

  I will provide you with a report to complete, then I will choose the setting for our meeting based on your scenario.

  I am flown first class or by private jet if I am required to work abroad.

  In the event of the above, I will provide my dietary requirements in advance.

  I will perform a full background check.

  I base my variable charge on the scenario being requested.

  “No” rules that I stipulate are:

  No bareback.

  No minors.

  No physical violence.

  Nothing illegal.

  No form of emotional attachment during or after the event. I am merely performing a sexual or companion service.

  No contact after the event, unless it is for a new booking.

  And my absolute number one rule, without exception is:

  Full payment up front, which is non- refundable. There is no requirement for a refund clause, I never fail to perform.

  So, now you are aware of my rules for the night and are about to contact me, all that remains to be asked is “Who do you want me to be?”

  Logan Steele

  I took a deep breath as I checked my appearance in the mirror again and straightened my dark grey tie, before shrugging on my light grey suit jacket. It was nearly time to leave for my next appointment with one of my regulars, Ava Renshaw. I actually had a soft spot for Ava. She wasn’t like some of my other clients, fake, self-centred and spoilt. She was a damned attractive brunette, in her mid-forties, but she still had a killer figure. She was married to money, David Renshaw was a very successful international banker, but it seemed he was more turned on by his money than his wife. Their sex life was non-existent, and while Ava didn’t want to cheat, she was starved of attention and affection, often left at home while he travelled overseas. She saw hiring me as less of a sin than getting emotionally involved with another man, I was just providing her with sex where she was lacking, nothing more nothing less.

  It was clear that I didn’t understand men as well as I should, being one myself. When you had a woman as attractive as that at home, who was willing and eager and didn’t lack for skills in bed, why wouldn’t you want her? It may seem a bit hypocritical of me to praise the virtues of marital sex, given my main career choice, but that was because I was single. If I was married to a woman with sex appeal like Ava, I’d be giving her my full attention on a regular basis, multiple times daily. I buttoned up my jacket and sighed. It had been nine months since I’d last given my full attention to a woman. Don’t get me wrong, I’d had plenty of client appointments in the last nine months, my calendar was always full such was my reputation for being the best in the industry, but they were duties to be fulfilled. A job in exchange for financial reward. They didn’t get my full attention, nor should they, or what would I have left for my private life? I laughed again, what private life? I didn’t have one. No, the last time I’d been fully in the moment with a woman, was with my virgin for the night appointment with Summer Beresford.

  Damn it. Nine months, nine bloody months and I still couldn’t get that damn woman out of my head. Her booking hadn’t just been about me performing a service for monetary reward, she’d got to me in ways no other woman ever had, not even in my sorely lacking personal life outside of “the job.” She’d made me feel, care, and want to protect. I could really fall for her in real life. I shook my head with a wry smile. Who the fuck was I kidding? I had really fallen for her, and the real kicker? She hadn’t had a damn clue. She assumed all my words and actions were just Logan Steele, experienced hired seductor of women doing what she’d paid him to do. I’d tried to forget about her, even deleted her client file and blocked her email, just in case she tried to book me again. Never get emotionally attached to a client was my main mantra, one I’d seriously fucked up the day I accepted her booking. The trouble was, her debut movie was having its premiere in Leicester Square next Saturday night and everywhere I looked, there she was. Magazine covers, interviews on the television, billboards, even on the damn radio. I couldn’t forget her even if I wanted to. I’d even had a moment of weakness and had driven to where she lived and parked up the street, sitting in my car for an hour while I argued with myself as to whether to knoc
k on her door, before mentally slapping myself and roaring off. I was the guy she paid to fuck her, nothing more. No woman in their right mind would want to date a guy with my background. I slipped my phone into my trouser pocket as the intercom buzzed and headed out to meet my driver James. It was time to put my game face on.

  ‘Evening, Sir. How are you?’

  ‘Excellent thank you, James. You?’

  ‘I can’t complain,’ he smiled as he held the back door open for me and I slid inside. He started the engine and pulled out before speaking again. ‘Are we picking up Mr. Douglas on the way, or is he meeting us there?’

  ‘Meeting us there,’ I nodded. ‘I didn’t think it would do my reputation any good, if I was caught booking into a hotel suite with another man.’ I flashed him a smile in the rear view mirror and he chuckled.

  ‘No, I suppose it wouldn’t. Unless of course you were thinking of branching out?’

  ‘No I wasn’t,’ I retorted quickly. I’d booked Trey Douglas for tonight, another up and coming male escort, nearly as well hung as I was. He had that blond haired, blue eyed, baby face look going on, that a lot of women seemed drawn too. He was only twenty one and eager to learn, so I’d taken him under my wing and had been advising him, giving him some tips and techniques, without giving away all of my of secrets of course. He was my go to guy for a ménage scenario. I’d made it clear from the beginning that I was in charge, I called the shots and if he tried to poach one of my clients, I’d blacklist him. He’d also received fair warning that he’d receive a black eye, or worse, if I felt a hand, tongue or any other appendage anywhere on my anatomy. He’d looked mortified, he was as into women as I was and it made our sessions a whole lot more relaxed that we knew we were both there to focus on the woman and not on each other.

  ‘I left your overnight bag in your suite and the morning after gift box you prepared for Mrs. Renshaw with her toiletries and fresh lingerie, as usual.’

  ‘Excellent, thank you, James.’

  ‘I notice that you’ve not booked The Dalton Hotel for a while, Sir,’ James observed.

  ‘No,’ I replied, as my lips curled into a smile. James might be an ex-marine, trained to be sneaky and covert, on top of deadly, but he was never subtle when it came to trying to push me in a certain direction.

  ‘May I ask the reason?’

  ‘I think that’s a rhetorical question, as you already know the reason, James.’

  ‘Well of course I do, I just wondered if you did,’ he smiled. I shook my head, between him and my best friend they seemed determined to force me to deal with my inappropriate feelings for Summer. The Dalton Hotel had always been my go to hotel in London for clients, unless their fantasy didn’t involve a hotel bed, but since that night with Summer, I couldn’t bring myself to take anyone else there. Like fucking someone else in the bed where we’d first made love, where I’d first made love instead of just fucking, would dilute those memories I had left of the best night of my damn life.

  ‘Then let’s just leave it that we both do then, shall we?’ I replied.

  ‘Didn’t mean to overstep, Sir.’

  ‘Please, I thought you were taught better poker face skills than that in the military,’ I laughed.

  ‘You don’t like her enough to pursue her?’

  ‘She doesn’t like me enough to be pursued.’

  ‘And how would you know if you haven’t tried? In order to fail at something, one must first attempt to succeed.’

  ‘Watch out James, they’ll be building some Tibetan temple and a bronze statue of you somewhere, for people to worship at, if you carry on with pearls of wisdom like that.’

  ‘Are you calling me a fat Buddha, Sir?’

  ‘No one in their right mind would dare to, with your combat training,’ I grinned. ‘Miss Beresford is too nice for the likes of me, James. She’s pure and innocent and a man like me would only corrupt and taint her.’

  ‘I thought you’d already … tainted her, Sir,’ James coughed. ‘Besides, wouldn’t it be better for her to be with a decent honourable man like you, than someone else who may not place her welfare as their top priority?’

  ‘And what makes you think I’m the sort of man to do that?’ I enquired with a raised brow.

  ‘You wouldn’t be so busy in your evening profession if you weren’t, Sir,’ he replied. ‘I also know that Mr. Davenport wouldn’t hold you in such high esteem if you weren’t a good man. He’s a very good judge of character, any man he calls a best friend, is an honest, decent man.’

  I smiled, James was shrewd, he saw right through me. I looked out of the window and frowned. Thinking about her with someone else slayed me, but she did deserve better than me. She deserved someone without my rather chequered past and present. A woman would never be able to trust me if she knew my history. One day, when I was ready to quit this lifestyle and just focus on my physical training clients, or even take up my best friend’s offer of a management job in his own firm, then I could think about finding a girl to go steady with. But my days as an escort were going to have to stay firmly buried, if I stood a chance with anyone.

  Trey Douglas

  I sat in the black taxi and ran a finger along the inside of my black shirt collar and loosened another button. I was so excited to have been approached by Logan again, we’d worked together a number of times now and each time he taught me something new. I’d been a typical cocky, arrogant twenty year old when we first crossed paths, thinking, given my age, my stamina would outlast his, I’d been sorely mistaken. The man would put any Iron Man contestant in the shade. He’d taken pity on me and told me that every escort had to start somewhere and if I’d follow instructions on any bookings, he’d be happy to let me learn from him. That just showed his self-confidence. Any other male escort would be threatened by a newbie on the scene, not Logan. He’d already taught me so much in the art of seducing a woman, rather than charging in and pounding them hell for leather. He’d told me some story about a tortoise and a hare, that had gone in one ear and out of the other, what didn’t pass straight through were the tips and pointers he gave me. I watched him with an eagle eye when he was one on one with a client and I was taking a back seat, anything to improve my technique, to make me as good as him.

  It was lucky that my cock wasn’t adversely affected being overshadowed by his. I’d never questioned my size, in fact Logan was the first guy I’d seen better hung than me. That may give some guys a complex, but I was made of stronger stuff than that. Large as we were, I was sure there were guys out there even bigger, there was always someone higher up the food chain. Besides, if either of us were any more stacked, I doubted women would want to fuck us for free, let alone to pay for it. One particularly tight girlfriend I’d been with had to have stitches, as well as carry around a rubber ring to sit on for a week, after our first time. From that moment on, I always made sure my kit contained plenty of lubricant, as well as condoms. I looked at the client file that Logan had sent over to me, to familiarise myself with the plan for tonight and had to double check the age of the woman in picture. No way was she forty-five. She looked in her early to mid-thirties, if that. Talk about a hot cougar.

  I want a ménage for the night. Two men, not another woman and I don’t want it to be sleazy, rough or dirty. I want something gentle, sexy and sensual. I’m not adverse to being penetrated while I have another in my mouth, but I’m not sure I could cope with double penetration.

  I nodded, this was new. I’d never done a romantic soft ménage before, always rough, raw and hard. Logan was the master at seduction though, then again he was the master in any situation, I’d have to take my cues from him tonight. He’d instructed me to dress smart casual, which to Logan meant a suit no tie. I was to take a seat at the bar, while he met the client at the other end and then I was to follow them up to the suite, without making it obvious we were together. One night’s cut from Logan was more than I could earn on my own in probably five sessions or more and I needed the money. I wasn’t just in
this for the sex, much as I loved it. I’d got into masses of debt at University, too interested in partying hard instead of getting a job. I’d also pretty much flunked out, which had been a serious wake up call. I wasn’t unintelligent, just damn lazy, preferring alcohol and women to studying, a choice I now regretted when I’d realised my career aspirations had been dashed without the first class honours degree I’d needed. Sex was the only way I could see of making myself enough money to pay off my debts and to try and start my studies again. A few good years at this would set me back on the straight and narrow. It would be great to command the sort of respect, reputation and fees Logan did. I could pick and choose assignments around my degree coursework and not have to fuck women I found it hard to get hard for. The phrase lie back and think of England seemed apt for me, only I didn’t have the luxury of lying back.

  I paid the taxi driver and strode through the revolving doors, nodding at the doorman and made my way to the bar as instructed. Ever the professional, Logan was already there, seated at the far end, dressed in a light grey suit, white shirt and dark grey tie. He gave me a discreet nod, as he picked up his drink of choice, water, no ice with lime, and took a swig. In the past I’d ordered non-alcoholic beer while on a job, but Logan had told me that the smell of beer on a man’s breath was off putting to some women, so I should stick to water or something sweet, like lemonade, to leave no lingering odour or flavours. I didn’t smoke either. Men were as objectified by women nowadays, as women were by men, we had to stay in great shape and let’s face it, who wanted to be shown up by Logan bloody Steele? Man of Steele more like. If Logan had auditioned for Superman, Henry Cavill would be looking for another job. The only thing in my favour was my blond haired, blue eyed looks, that some women went crazy over, at least that differentiated me from him.