Strangers for the Night (For The Night #1) by C. J. Fallowfield Page A

taken to your room. If you can please secure your seat belt we are
ready to depart. The flight is expected to be approximately seven hours, dinner
will be served at seven o’clock UK time and we expect to land at midnight,
which will be seven p.m. New York time, as requested.’
    ‘Perfect, thank you,’ I nodded. I
checked my watch, it was a little after five in the afternoon. I’d have plenty
of time to relax, eat, and maybe fit in some exercise before taking a nap and
then freshening up, so when I arrived I was ready for action. As the plane
began to taxi out onto the runway, I sat back in my chair and checked my
schedule for the months ahead with my clients. My finger automatically opened
the file on Summer Beresford, my next client. She was twenty-two, almost my
youngest client yet, with the exception of Camilla who was a year younger.
Women with the sorts of sums required for my services tended to be older,
usually married to wealth, or they were leaders in their field of expertise,
having clawed their way to the top and earned their money, or, as in Camilla’s
case, were heiresses to Daddy’s fortune. Summer stood out from the rest, for a
number of reasons. She was a natural beauty, not stunning like many of the
women who paid me, but a classic English rose. She had porcelain clear skin,
pink cheeks, bright blue eyes, full lips and full chestnut hair, that hung well
below her shoulders.
    I was attracted to all of my
clients, unless my cock twitched on sight of their photograph I wouldn’t have even
considered taking the booking. I’d be a pretty poor fucking gigolo if I
couldn’t get it up, so the photos were essential to ensure I never failed on my
“no refunds offered” clause. While I always selected potential candidates based
on sexual attraction, there was something about Summer that made my pulse spike
that little bit more. On top of that, she didn’t appear to have money. My best
friend, Oliver Davenport, had hooked me up with his own personal investigator,
Ian Smith. As soon as a booking request with photograph came in, Ian would
perform full background checks on them. I wanted assurances that they had the
means to pay and that if they were seeing someone, or married, it wasn’t to a
mobster who was likely to put me in concrete boots if he found out what I’d
been doing with his wife.
    Summer was an unknown actress,
who’d only had a few walk on parts in television, but had just landed the lead role
in a film version of a popular erotic romance novel. She was currently single
and living with her parents in London, my own home town. I was intrigued to
know what scenario she’d want me to fulfil and had sent her my standard report
to complete, in order for me to put together a quote if I decided to take the
booking. Her request had been simple, for us to meet in a hotel room and for me
to treat her as if she were a virgin and make love to her and pretend to teach
her all there was to know about sex. That was it, the rest of the brief was
left up to me. My curiosity with her had been peaked. Usually women who booked
me wanted me to be dominant, controlling, aggressive and forceful, not soft and
gentle. I’d typically have refused the booking had it been anyone else, I
didn’t do tender fucks, but I couldn’t stop opening her file and looking at her
photograph, so with my obvious interest in her, I’d accepted. I shifted uncomfortably
in my seat, there was definitely no lack of attraction on my part, I’d sprung a
fucking erection at the thought of looking at her photograph, before I’d even
re-opened her file. I sighed and closed it and opened the current one for
Camilla, to re-read her report and familiarise myself with tonight’s scenario.
    Personal Attire
    You will be dressed in a dark
grey suit, black brogues, black dress socks and a white shirt, unbuttoned at
the neck. You will wear no jewellery and no deodorant, but you will apply Black
Orchid cologne by Tom Ford. Clean shaven, no body