SPOV
I'm sitting before my computer and the damned blinking cursor is mocking me yet again. I lean back groaning, tossing my stress ball into the air as I desperately try to wrap my mind around an idea for a new story. My writing has been suffering as of late, and I blame my run of shitty relationships.
Why? Because I write romance novels, I know what you're thinking, but it's not like it was my first choice. I graduated college dreaming of writing the next great American novel, while writing smutty stories on the side for fun. But when I hit a wall with the novel, my best friend convinced me to turn in one of my romance stories to my publisher. It was a hit, and I've been writing them ever since.
Well, until now. It's hard to write steamy romance stories when you have absolutely no love life to speak of; at least it is for me. I was married right after graduation to my high school sweetheart; the man I thought was the love of my life, Bill Compton. Unfortunately, Bill discovered his true love was our next door neighbor. I walked in on the two of them in our marriage bed and filed for divorce the next day. Prick.
Then there was Quinn. He was the polar opposite of Bill, which is what drew me to him in the first place. Where Bill was conservative and quiet, Quinn was exciting and fun and sex with him was phenomenal. I thought I'd hit the dating jackpot. Then he just stopped calling. No goodbye, no thanks for the fun time, nothing. Then he has the nerve to show up on my doorstep six months later acting like nothing happened. I slammed the door on his handsome face. I'm no one's booty call!
So now I live with my best friend, Amelia, and my love life is nonexistent. She keeps trying to get me back out there, but I'm not outgoing like her. She enters a room and is instantly the center of attention. I'm more shy and introverted, tending to live vicariously through the heroines in my novels. But with this serious case of writer's block, maybe I should finally take her advice. What could it hurt?
"Hey, Roomie!" calls Amelia from the front of the house. She walks in to see me reclined in my office chair with my feet propped up on my desk. "So, how goes the new novel?" she asks. I nod to the blank screen and she shakes her head with a small frown. "You need to get out of this house; you won't find inspiration sitting in front of that computer all day, Sook." I sigh.
"I know, I was just thinking that, actually."
"You should come out to the bar with me and Pam tonight. Have a couple drinks, dance a little, hopefully get a hottie's number," she tells me with a smirk, waggling her brows at me. I snort.
"I don't know about meeting a guy in a bar, Ames. That's where I met no-call Quinn, remember?" I tell her with an eye roll. "There just aren't any good guys left, at least not around here anyways."
"Sure there are, you just have to know where to look," she tells me with a wicked grin.
"Oh no, not this again," I tell her with a groan.
"Hey, don't be like that. Your best friend owns a dating service, why wouldn't you let her set you up?" she asks batting her lashes at me. I roll my eyes.
"Amelia, you own an escort service, not a dating service, there's a difference," I tell her with a sigh.
"Not really, my girls just get paid to go on their dates," she says shrugging her shoulders. I laugh.
"You mean they get paid to have sex; they're prostitutes, Amelia." She huffs.
"I take offence to that term. My girls go on dates with men and they make the rules, they only do what they're comfortable with," she tells me sternly. I sigh. We've had this discussion many times.
"Fine, whatever, they're escorts, not prostitutes, but I could never do anything like that," I tell her, scrunching my nose. I still don't see the difference, besides, what kind of skeevy men are paying for a "date".
"All I'm saying is you need to get back out there, Sook. You'll never find Mr. Right moping around the house. And you seriously need to get laid," she tells me sternly, raising a brow at me.
"And you think my Prince Charming pays for dates through your service?" I ask with a laugh. She shakes her head as she sighs.
"I know you think the clients are all just a bunch of slime balls, but you'd be surprised, Sook. I don't own a brothel, you know. This is a high end escort service, catering to the elite," she explains. "Just think about it, that's all. You could go out and meet a guy at a bar and have fun, but if you met with a client you'd know they were safe and healthy. We do rigorous background checks and disease testing to keep the girls safe," she explains.
I think over what all she has said. It would be safer than meeting some stranger in a bar, but what kind of guy could I really meet if they are paying for a companion? No, why am I even considering this? This is crazy! I couldn't do something like that! Amelia brings me out of my musings.
"So, you coming out with Pam and I then?" she asks with a beaming grin.
"I might as well, it's not like I'm getting any work done," I say with a sigh. She jumps up and down excitedly, clapping her hands. I can't help but laugh at her childlike behavior. She grabs my wrist and half drags me to her bedroom. She starts throwing clothes from the closet with a wicked grin. She pulls out a stringy white dress and holds it against me.
"No freaking way, Ames," I tell her shaking my head and pushing the tiny dress away.
"Oh, come on, Sook. You haven't had a date in almost a year. It's time to try something different, let your hair down for once. It'll do you a world of good, I promise," she tells me with a grin. I sigh. Maybe she's right, I could stand to let loose a little and I really need to do something to get myself out of this funk. I snatch the dress from her and she claps excitedly again as I laugh.
I stand in front of my mirror, checking my reflection in the skimpy white dress. It shows some major cleavage, but with boobs this size, that's kind of a given. It's short enough that I can't bend over, but I feel really sexy in it. It's been a long time since I've felt sexy, and it feels good. I grin at my reflection, brushing out my hair and putting on some lip gloss.
"You girls ready?" Pam calls from the front of the house. I take a deep breath. I guess I'm as ready as I could be. Look out world, here I come. I put on my bright pink pumps and make my way through the house to the girls. Amelia whistles loudly and Pam's brows shoot to her hairline as I enter the kitchen before them. I smirk, twirling and striking a pose for them.
"You look good enough to eat, Sookie," purrs Pam, running her finger down my arm as she eyes me hungrily. I snort.
"Thanks, Pam, but I still don't swing that way," I tell her with a smirk. She just shrugs.
"Let's go shake our asses on the dance floor," calls Amelia as we make our way from the house giggling together.
We pile into Pam's minivan, soon making our way to the bar. We pull into the crowded parking lot, and I look out to see the place is completely packed. Great, we'll never get in.
Pam leads us to the front door confidently, completely ignoring the long line. I give Amelia a questioning look and she just shrugs at me. We look on as Pam whispers something in the bouncer's ear and he gives her a nod, letting the three of us right in. "Damn Pam, how'd you do that?" I ask her in shock.
"I know people," she says smoothly as we make our way to the packed bar. We order drinks and I scan the crowd. Nothing looks too promising yet, but the night's still young. The bartender hands us our drinks then and we make our way to the dance floor together.
The speakers are blaring upbeat dance music and the three of us are soon dancing together. I love dancing, and it's been way too long since I've indulged in one of my favorite past times. I lose myself in the sound of the music, swaying my hips and grinding with the girls as I sip my drink.
Before long, we're gaining the attention of many of the bar patrons. Soon, a man starts grinding against me and I turn to look at him. He's actually pretty decent looking. I give him a small smile, which must give him the wrong impression because he leers at me as he reaches forward to grab my breast into his hand. I spin on my heel, splashing my drink in his face as my anger rises within me. "Asshole!" I yell out at him as he laughs, turning to walk away, shaking his head at me. What a dick!
I'm still fuming as Amelia approaches me, laying her hand upon my shoulder. "You okay?" she asks in concern. I nod.
"The nerve of some people! Damn!" I spit out as she shakes her head, glaring at the offender. I shrug off my irritancy and we soon begin dancing together once more.
Before long, another man approaches me, standing before me with charming smile as he looks me up and down appreciatively. He's really cute; maybe my night is looking up. Then he opens his mouth.
"Do you work for UPS? I could have sworn I saw you checking out my package," he tells me waggling his eyebrows. I roll my eyes and walk away in a huff. What a pig! He must not get the hint though because he follows me leaning over my shoulder saying, "Do you live on a chicken farm? 'Cause you sure know how to raise a cock, Baby."
I turn around and slap him across the face as I see Pam approaching us. He leers down at her as she leans up to whisper into his ear. I have no idea what she tells him but he gives me a nervous look before spinning on his heel and quickly makes his way through the crowd as I burst out laughing.
"What did you tell him, Pam?"
"Don't worry about it, Cupcake, he won't be bothering you anytime soon," she purrs with a wink.
The rest of the night progresses much the same way and by the time we're finally leaving, I'm convinced I should become a lesbian. I chuckle to myself thinking about just how much Pam would love that. But really, what disgusting pigs! As we pile into the van I start thinking about what Amelia and I discussed earlier.
The clients can't be any worse than the creeps at the bar tonight. Actually, from what she's told me, some of them are actually really sweet. Plus, I would have total anonymity; I could be anyone I wanted for a night. I could be sex kitten Sookie, lover extraordinaire. It'd be like role playing, it might even be fun.
Like Amelia said, it's just like taking a guy home from the bar for a one night stand, except without all the drawbacks. I would know I wasn't with a criminal or some crazy stalker. I wouldn't have to worry about getting some disease, and I wouldn't be left sitting by the phone, waiting for him to call me back for a second date. Plus, Amelia's right, I could seriously use a good lay.
Besides, it's just one night, it's not like I'm actually going to start working for Amelia. We pull up to the house and Amelia and I enter the house together as Pam speeds off into the night. "So, if I decided to take you up on your offer-," I start as Amelia shrieks, cutting me off.
"Oh my God! Are you serious?" she asks excitedly as she bounces on her heels and shoots me her mega-watt smile.
"It's just one night, besides, what do I have to lose?"
