A Kept Woman Read online

  New Dawning International Bookfair

  Presents

  An Erotic Romance Novel by

  Daryl Devoré

  Copyright © 2011 Daryl Devoré

  Smashwords Edition

  Dedication

  A heart-felt thank-you to Dee for his patient help and advice.

  ~A Kept Woman~

  Chapter One

  “Gawd, women are such a pain.” Derek snapped his cell phone shut and threw it onto his night table. He untied his blue-striped silk tie and tossed it onto the bed. In moments, his Italian-cut three-piece suit lay equally flung aside. Pulling open the bottom dresser drawer, he removed a fraying, college sweatshirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. After lacing up his well-worn sneakers and ruffling his groomed hair, he stared at his reflection in his full length mirror. The transformation from chairman of the board to construction worker took less than five minutes. Grabbing his wallet he removed his driver’s license, one charge card and thirty-five dollars and placed them into an old wallet. He stuffed it into his back hip pocket, grabbed his cell phone and exited his bedroom.

  Donning his jacket with the New York Rangers team’s logo, he checked the pocket for his car keys, then rode his private elevator down to the basement parking garage. He walked past his three expensive imports, unlocked the rusted, dark blue Camaro and drove out of the upper rich side.

  Traffic was a beast. Snow had fallen all day. The roads were slippery and regular people were anxious to get home. Not Derek. He headed to Charlie’s, a topless bar on the corner of ‘don’t know’ and ‘don’t care.’

  Opening the door, he stepped out of the mid-November chill into his alter ego world. Charlie’s wasn’t a special bar, just a nondescript drinking joint - dark, hazy and full of people wanting to get drunk. But he loved it. Here he was Derek, not Mr. Davenport. He sat on the stool next to his three drinking buddies. “Yo, low life and scum-beings.” They waved their beers. “Barkeep, whatever they’re drinking I’ll have two of. I’m behind here and gotta get caught up.” He grabbed a handful of peanuts.

  “Thought you had a date tonight,” said Steve, married with three kids. He spent many nights hiding out in the bar spending his pay check on beer and false conversations.

  “Women are such pains.” Derek tossed some money on the bar and took a gulp of beer.

  “Bulletin,” recently divorced Linc, shouted to the few patrons in the bar. “Derek’s broken up with his woman of the month.”

  A buxom waitress wiggled her way past and pressed her ample, naked breasts up against Derek’s back. His groin sent him an, Easy fuck alert.

  “You promised I’d be your next girl.” said a pouty little voice.

  Derek turned on his bar stool, and was chest to chest with Trixie. His hands cupped her breasts. “Beautiful. Full and very suckable.”

  The bartender cuffed Derek across the back of the head. “How many times do I gotta tell you? Don’t touch the girls.”

  Derek dropped his hands. Trixie ain’t no girl. She’s worked here too long. Any girlness was gone years ago. He grabbed his two beers. “Come on guys, table over there. Game’ll be starting soon and I gotta get drunk.”

  “Bad day at work?” Kevin asked.

  Derek collapsed on his chair. “Stinking day. Think I’ll get rich, buy the company and fire my boss. He’s such an ass.”

  Steve swallowed his beer. “Hey, could you get rich enough to fire my boss?”

  “I’ll get rich enough to fire everybody’s boss. Then we can all be boss,” said Derek.

  “And fire ourselves.” Linc raised his bottle.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Steve clinked his bottle with Linc’s.

  By nine-thirty, Steve and Linc were singing old Beach Boy tunes and being led by Kevin, a drummer from a now defunct rock and roll oldies band. “I know.” Kevin’s eyes brightened. “Place an ad.”

  Derek rubbed his face and gaped at Kevin. “What th’ fuck you talkin’ `bout? Steve, you know?”

  Steve shrugged his shoulders.

  “Me and Steve, don’t know what ya talkin’ `bout.” Derek was about to ask Linc what was going on, but his cheek was pressed against crushed peanut shells and spilled beer. “Screw this! I gotta take a leak.” Derek made a beeline for the Men’s Room.

  Trixie watched him cross the bar and when he exited the rest room, she pulled him into the manager’s office. “He’s not in tonight.”

  Derek’s eyes were focused on watching her as she rolled her nipples between her fingers. “Fuck me, Derek.” Cupping her breasts, she offered them to him. “I can’t believe no woman has caught you yet. With that gorgeous thick black hair and those ice blue eyes.” Her hand reached down and grabbed the swelling in his jeans. “And that big cock. How come you’re still free?”

  He didn’t answer; instead his mouth latched onto a nipple and sucked. His tongue swirled and lapped at her, teasing her and feeling her grow firmer. Trixie’s fingers found the zipper on his jeans. With an experienced hand, she unzipped him, released her prize and coaxed him to full size.

  He dropped her tight shorts to the floor, slid his hand between her thighs while his fingers searched for a moist wet recess. “You don’t need any foreplay. You are ready, woman.”

  He pulled a condom out of his wallet. Trixie opened the package, placed the condom over the tip of his fully aroused penis and with an experienced grip rolled it the length of his shaft until she reached its base. After a quick tickle of his balls, she turned and spread her legs.

  Slipping inside Trixie’s hot and ready pussy, Derek felt the familiar pleasure begin to grow. He didn’t need a girlfriend. He needed a woman--one who would fulfill his desires but not clutter his life. Focusing on himself his pace grew frantic. Panting he said, “Better cum soon, Trixie. ‘Cause I am about to.”

  Trixie’s hand rubbed her clit. “Oh gawd that feels so good. No, don’t come. I’m not ready.”

  With one last powerful thrust, Derek exploded inside her. His thrusts slowed. While Trixie furiously worked herself, Derek hung his head and regained control of his breathing. He felt the shudder pass through Trixie. Placing a kiss between her shoulders, he slipped out of her, tossed the condom into the garbage, zipped up his jeans and returned to his buddies.

  “What’d ya get lost?” Kevin asked.

  “Naw, I was fucking, Trixie.”

  “Don’t tell us that.” Steve held his hands to his ears.

  “But I like what you said Kevin.”

  Kevin’s brow crinkled as he rubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

  Derek continued, “Before I went to take a leak. You said take out an ad. I’m gonna do it. All it’s going to say is Woman wanted. I don’t want a girlfriend. They’re nothing but pains in the butt.”

  “Then you sure as hell don’t want a wife.” Steve lowered his head and shook it.

  Derek grabbed the paper off the bar and ripped through until he found the personal ads. Digging out his cell phone he dialed the newspaper office. After talking with someone at the paper, he returned to his buddies. “You’re all drunk. Go home.”

  “Did you do it?” Kevin asked.

  “Said I would, didn’t I?”

  “Do what?” Linc asked.

  “I’ll explain in the cab. Come on Linc. You got balls, Derek.” Kevin slapped Derek on the back.

  After helping Linc into the cab and waving goodbye, Derek walked to his car, mentally calculating his blood/alcohol level. Should be below the legal limit. But barely, crap, shoulda paid more attention to the number of beers. Guess I shouldn’t drink angry. He put his key into the ignition.

  Returning to his zillion dollar penthouse apartment, Derek collapsed across his bed. He rubbed his face and sighed. A hangover and chairing a board
meeting tomorrow, the two things he despised most in the entire universe.

  Chapter Two

  Arianne burst into her apartment, brushed past her roommate, threw her keys onto the coffee table and plopped onto her couch. “I hate men.”

  Taylor looked up. “Me excluded, of course.”

  “I hate straight men. There, is that better?”

  “Well, I can commiserate with that. I hate straight men, too.”

  She pulled out her hair tie and shook her shoulder length hair free. “I hate my life.” After a deep depressed sigh, she snatched up the newspaper that had been lying on the coffee table.

  Taylor put his Blackberry in his pocket. “Now this sounds serious.”

  “It has been two months and I still can’t find a job.”

  “Then why do you hate men?”

  “Because some man caused the downturn and made it difficult for people to buy stuff and now I don’t have a job.” Unsuccessfully tossing the paper across the room, it fluttered to the carpet near her feet. “And to top it off, Kyle broke up with me. He suddenly woke up and found that he’s in a different place and I don’t belong there with him. Whatever the hell that means.”

  “This is where—”

  “And, I’m living a stereotype. I’m like in one of those sitcoms. Straight girl lives with gay guy. Hell, I can’t even screw you ‘cause we like the same thing - men! Except, I hate men!”

  When her ranting subsided, Taylor tried again. “This is where I get practical and ask, you do have some money saved up, right?”

  Arianne shook her head.

  “How can you be employed for two years and not have saved anything?”

  “Well, I had to pay off my college loan.”

  “Not to mention a new pair of shoes every other week. So how much do you have or do I have to start looking for a new rent paying roommate?”

  “I’m broke. I was sort of hoping to move in with Kyle while I hunted for something.”

  “I love you dearly Arianne, but I can’t afford the rent on my own. And I cannot afford to feed you. Guess I start looking for a paying roommate. Or you could beg a loan off mommy and daddy. What about unemployment?” Arianne sighed. Taylor bent down, picked up the newspaper and tossed it at her. “Keep looking for a job.”

  She missed one section of the paper, but managed to catch the second. It was the personal ads. “Here’s a job for me. Woman wanted. Apply to e-box twenty four. I’m a woman. So I’m qualified for that one.”

  Taylor’s cell phone went off. He flipped it open and started chatting. Arianne wandered into the kitchen and peered into the cupboards. When nothing suited her fancy, she pulled open the freezer door. One microwave chicken meal sat alone. She grabbed it, tossed it into Taylor’s microwave and pressed cook.

  Entering the kitchen, doing-up the last button on his shirt, Taylor handed Arianne his tie. “I have to go out. Are you going to be alright?”

  After running the silk material through her fingers and reveling in the sensation, Arianne flipped it over his neck, adjusted the length and began to tie a Windsor knot. “Hold still. Yea, I’m fine. Just needed to bitch for a moment. I’m not depressed over Kyle. Just annoyed. There.” She patted the knot. “Fashion check.”

  Her tall and uber-fashionably dressed roommate then displayed his best runway walk across their tiny kitchen and dramatically posed by the door. “Don’t hate me ‘cause I’m beautiful.”

  Arianne chuckled. “Yes, you are more beautiful than me. That Scandinavian blond hair of yours I’d kill for. It should be illegal for a man to have eye lashes as long as yours. Your fashion sense makes me look like a bag lady and an extra twenty pounds on that butt wouldn’t make it look fat. Go. Get out of here before I fall into a deeper and darker depression.”

  After two quick cheek kisses, Taylor exited and Arianne returned to watching the numbers count down on the microwave’s timer—knocking the seconds off her miserable failure of a life. She reached for the mail pile on the kitchen table; four unpaid bills, all for her, and not a postcard or a letter from anyone. She pushed the message button on the answering machine—seven messages—all for Taylor. I exist to no one except bill collectors. I suck.

  Opening the refrigerator, she pulled out a partially filled bottle of wine. Hey, some white. I’m having chicken. Taylor won’t mind. Turning, she opened a cupboard and grabbed a large coffee mug. Near the toaster was a bottle of red wine with a wine stopper in it. Pre-dinner drink. What a great idea. After pouring the red wine into the coffee mug, she swallowed a few large mouthfuls, topped up her mug and carried both bottles into the living room. Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed her supper, carried the hot plastic tray to her seat on the couch.

  Picking up the remote with one hand and the coffee mug with the other, she alternated between surfing channels and sipping wine. She stopped at two naked females passionately exploring each other’s body. Blankly staring at the screen she finished the bottle of red wine, consumed her precooked, fast-frozen meal in a container and had changed to white wine, without noticing the difference. Tossing the empty dish onto the coffee table, the fork bounced off and landed on the newspaper. She bent down to pick it up. The ad she had read to Taylor caught her eye. “What the hell.” She picked her laptop up off the coffee table, typed in the website then clicked on e-box twenty four.

  Hi. I’m Derek. I’m looking for a woman. I don’t want a girlfriend or a lover. Just a mutually sexually satisfying companion. The work will be minimal and the pay will be excellent. If interested email me your name, an introduction - 100 words or less - and a photo to entice me to hire you.

  Arianne drank her wine and stared at the laptop screen for fifteen minutes while she had a mental debate. The “yes” voice in her head won out. The wine may have helped. She linked the digital camera to the computer then walked to her room and stripped. She stood in front of the small mirror and tried to choose her sexiest pose. Having chosen the conservative one of standing with her hands at her sides, legs spread apart; Arianne positioned herself in front of the camera and clicked the trigger. In a moment the picture appeared on the screen.

  Appraising her body, Arianne smiled - soft curves, ample breasts and a neatly trimmed puff of hair below her belly button. It was a sexy body, not ravishing like a movie star’s, but it had enticed a few of the male gender. With some careful editing she deleted the background of the picture until all she had was a naked, headless picture of herself. She attached the photo to an email and began to type her message.

  My name is Arianne. I’m 25 and recently unemployed so I’m ready to explore any job opportunity. Especially one that will pay an excellent salary. I keep in shape. I like to party but I don’t do drugs. I’m not a virgin, but I am clean—no STD’s. I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t jump into bed with every guy I meet. I’m just a regular girl pushed into a corner and is desperately looking for a way out.

  How much is “excellent pay”?

  She hit the send button. No turning back now. While online she did a daily depressing search of the job listings. As she was about to click off, she noticed her email icon was flashing.

  Hello Arianne. This is Derek. I am 28 and employed. I also like to keep in shape, but I enjoy a lazy day doing nothing but watching TV. There will be no drugs involved—only sex. I don’t have the time or the patience for a relationship.

  Job description - service me at least once a week - say every Tuesday. I will supply an apartment for our meetings. I don’t want to wine and dine you. There is no emotional involvement. I want to walk in, fuck and leave.

  Pay - how does $8,000 a month - to start - sound? Reply.

  Derek.

  “Sounds pretty damn good!”

  Replying to the message she typed,

  Derek, This is not an acceptance of job, just a couple more questions. When would I start? How would I be paid?

  Arianne

  While waiting for his reply she picked up her clothes and tossed them
on top of the growing pile in the laundry hamper. Pulling out a pair of warm flannel PJs, she dressed and sat back in front of the computer.

  Hello again,

  Next Tuesday. Paid in cash. No paper trail. I will provide AIDS test result— you must also—on first meeting.

  If willing, meet at the Corner Coffee House on Thirty Fourth Street. Be there by 1:00 p.m. If all is acceptable, we will have our first session. I will pay you $1,000 cash. Trial basis. I will then decide whether to continue or end this business arrangement. Reply.

  Derek.

  To the monitor she said, “A thousand dollars! For one afternoon’s work! How can I turn it down? I need the money. It’s a job. My employer pays me to do what he wants. My former employer paid me to illustrate books and now my new employer is going to pay me a fortune for one afternoon a week and—” A sexy grin crossed her face. “It’s not like I don’t like sex. Send the message, girl.” Before she had time to change her mind, Arianne typed out her message and sent it. She tapped her fingers on the keyboard waiting for his reply.

  Done. Tuesday. Derek.

  Arianne’s hand clapped to her mouth. “Oh my God! What have I done?”

  Chapter Three

  Tuesday at 12:50, the subway raced through the dark tunnel. Arianne felt as if everyone knew and was staring at her, silently condemning her for what she was about to do. She had spent the morning indulging in a long, hot soak in the bathtub. Every piece of clothing she owned had been tried on and rejected a half dozen times. Outfits ranging from Catholic school girl to sleazy woman of the night were created and discarded.