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Chapter 2. “Devirginization”
“When I was younger, I liked these to be lightly toasted. But now that I’m older, I like ’em . . . charred.”
“Well, you always have had a thing for flaming balls.”
Bella’s laughter, sweet and melodious as it was to Jeremy’s ears, filled the morning air all around them. A rare, precious gem, his bride was brimming with spirit — upbeat and tender — and loaded with affection. Bella’s smile was radiant and an ideal complement to her patented, effervescent laugh.
Jeremy dabbed at his chin with a fingertip and raised a curious eyebrow. “Do I still have marshmallows on my mouth?”
Snuggled close to him in the backyard of the brothel they owned with the sands and stones of Calafell Canyon as their backdrop, Bella tilted her head and grinned, and stole not one, not two, but three quick kisses from her husband. “I don’t think so.” She pulled away for a second glance, fleeting as it was, then shook her head and kissed Jeremy again, all the while holding her own marshmallows-on-a-stick over an open bonfire flame.
Waiting for them to become charred.
Bella grazed her lips along Jeremy’s collarbone and squeezed his torso. “Oh, you’re so cuddly! A million times cuddlier than Boo Boo Bear, even . . . and that’s saying something!”
Bella and Jeremy McCarron recently celebrated their fifth wedding anniversary by spending a week and a half in Bora Bora. They decided to go all-out, too, renting an overwater villa with breathtaking views of the Pacific, a private infinity swimming pool, floating over-the-water hammock, and sun lounges. They had round-the-clock access to the lagoon and could swim, snorkel, and scuba dive at their leisure.
With a stretch of white beach bordering majestic blue seas and deluxe thatch-roofed accommodations situated on wooden piers, the resort delivered them the trip of a lifetime. It even featured its own private island. To Bella and Jeremy, Bora Bora was heaven on earth — a romantic getaway for the ages.
But when their vacation ended, it was back to the cruel, harsh climate of the Nevada desert and their professional lives. Jeremy had been working at Happy Ending Ranch since 1992 and inherited ownership responsibilities after his father passed away on October 17, 2011. He didn’t agree with many of his father’s business tactics and set out to make immediate changes, both for employees and customers alike.
Isabella Rose Amor was a wide-eyed, fresh-faced 18-year-old when she arrived on the scene from Crescent Cove, California and applied for a job on July 8, 2009. The house manager and second in command at the time, Jeremy found himself enthralled by Bella. He’d interviewed thousands of sensuous young women over the years, but none gave him butterflies in his digestive system until Bella came along. Nothing seemed forced or disingenuous between them. Everything was comfortable and relaxed and, best of all, authentic.
Jeremy knew he’d stumbled onto a gold mine of riches, and it had nothing to do with Bella’s earning potential. He was fascinated by Bella and her thoughts on every topic. That curiosity led to more questions, many of which had nothing to do with the interview itself, and he found himself falling in love. His heart rate sped up, his body temperature spiked, and the smile wouldn’t leave his face.
Jeremy hired her on the spot.
“The first day we met, I called my mom and told her I was going to marry you. I knew it right away.” Bella put her face upon Jeremy’s shoulder and traced his collar with her fingertips. “Odd I had such a magical aha moment in a brothel with you being my new boss, huh?” Indeed, Bella was equally smitten with Jeremy that fateful day seven years ago. “We liked each other right off the bat, but I . . .”
“We did?” Jeremy interjected with a silly grin, his own fingers stroking her thick, silky hair. “When did that happen?”
Bella grasped his opposite hand and offered a hard, stoic glare, but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Let me talk.”
“I remember I felt like a schoolgirl and couldn’t stop feeling . . . ridiculous.”
Jeremy motioned toward her breasts with his head. “And looking like that?”
“Looking like what?” Bella hooked a finger around his belt and stifled a laugh.
“Looking like that right there.” His 25-year-old bride dazzled in her bright, neon-pink bikini top and denim booty shorts, with golden blonde tresses sweeping across both shoulders and trailing down to her waistline in a tight, woven braid. Her brown eyes were lively, warm, and sparkled with that trademarked air of mischief when she smiled.
Mornings were generally slow at the brothel, so Bella and Jeremy opted to spend some one-on-one time out back by the bonfire pit and pool. Enclosed with high, inaccessible security walls and electrified wires on top, the backyard offered both security and privacy. It was nice to be able to connect each day, if just for a short while, as husband atalar escort and wife because the majority of their energy while in town went to the brothel itself.
Jeremy was the owner (ahem, general manager) and always had a million things on his plate. Bella was a provider and on call 17 hours every day. She also did what she could to help out behind the scenes, such as screening new applicants from the website and talking to them over the telephone.
Officially, Bella was the joint owner. But all decisions were made by Jeremy.
Bella grasped his hand and pulled it to her sternum. “Oooooh, I adore you. I want to gobble you up sometimes! You’re always complimenting me and giving me those steamy little looks of yours.”
He held his chin high with mock prestige. “You have like a thousand layers. You keep letting me discover them.”
Bella slid a suggestive fingertip along his forearm. “What do you want to do?”
“How about each other?” Jeremy laughed in perfect unison with Bella and brought her palm to his lips for a kiss. “You have such beautiful hands.” He smiled, looking just as happy about being with her as he did on their wedding night back in 2011. “So gorgeous.” He nibbled oh-so-gently on her fingertips. “So precious.”
Every working girl was different. Some wanted nothing to do with relationships and found no joy whatsoever in physical contact. Sex was their job and they tried to avoid it at all costs in their free time. The idea itself was repulsive. Others feared having sex outside of work because STIs were so rampant, and if they caught one their career could be ruined.
But as for Bella, her sex drive had been through the roof over the past several weeks! Strictly with her husband, mind you — not others. During their vacation, she wanted sex every night from Jeremy! He had no complaints and was thankful for her overcharged libido, however temporary it may have been.
Bella had always been able to differentiate her professional and private lives and never allowed the two to intersect. She may have been a pleasure and orgasm specialist who made herself available to most anyone willing to pay her price but make no mistake about it — Bella loved her husband with all her heart and soul. She’d do anything to make Jeremy happy.
Those feelings were reciprocated. Jeremy supported Bella 100 percent and believed in her. He had her back and would defend her and the choices she made to all four corners of the globe if necessary.
Theirs was a unique marriage, no doubt. Jeremy often stood idly by in the bar and watched his wife flirt with and seduce men of all ages, shapes, sizes, and ethnic backgrounds. From time to time, it would be another woman, or even a couple. Bella was often wearing a provocative outfit that would land her in jail if she went out in public.
Soon enough, Jeremy would watch them walk hand in hand back to her bedroom and listen to the negotiations through his earpiece and the brothel’s electronic surveillance system.
“Are you sure you can’t go any higher than $550 for an hour, baby? I’d love to show you a good time, but the type of party you’re asking for has a higher premium — it costs more. Can you do $650?”
In this type of exchange, Bella would hope to settle on $600 and give the customer whatever he or she wanted during their time together. Sometimes, the client — let’s say a man for simplicity’s sake — would do everything he could to fuck her senseless. He’d pound Bella into what he believed was sexual oblivion and live out several fantasies along the way: control, power exchange, even domination.
Of course, Bella was used to this type of treatment and didn’t wear out easily. Her goal with every party was not only for the customer to leave fully satisfied, but also for them to believe she was fully satisfied, too.
She was selling a fantasy, after all.
Yet at the same time, Bella never embellished any of her physical reactions. Other girls would fake multiple orgasms during parties, but Bella refused to. It was a line she wouldn’t cross.
And on rare occasions, Bella received more than she could handle. One day last year, she entertained a well-known NBA athlete for five hours and needed two whole days afterward to recover. She’d never had it so physical.
Customers had different wants and desires. Bella had spent entire evenings before simply hanging out and chilling in her bedroom with patrons. Believe it or not, certain clients didn’t want sex or anything erotic. They wanted to pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend, or husband and wife, and talk. She’d curl up and snuggle in bed with a so-called trick, and they’d watch a movie or play video games. Bella would find herself acting as a therapist as well, as these customers’ lives were lacking and all they wanted was someone to open up to and be honest with.
She considered herself to be an expert at giving marital advice, too.
Intimacy ataşehir escort was usually preferred in some form or another, but most took it a step further and wanted sex. Clients could ask Bella to give them a nuru massage in the parlor, for example, and then want to take a shower with her afterward. Others would spend 30 minutes (if not longer) dining on her pussy like it was their first meal in weeks. Bella had sucked cock an infinite amount of times and been drilled in every conceivable position known to man, and then some.
She’d seen it all. She’d done it all.
And always with a smile on her face.
One customer — Jake from Albuquerque — would stop by every three months and use bondage restraints to hogtie and gag Bella on the bed. It was her job to squirm, struggle, and cry (per his instructions) like she was a captive as he sat back and masturbated for the rest of their allotted time. When in the mood, he’d remove his belt and punish her.
But the man rarely touched Bella.
The bondage could be painful at times, but Bella was at ease with him — the value of building trust over time between client and provider was a powerful thing in this business — and looked forward to their time together. Jake never wanted sex, yet still paid her fetish rate (a much higher premium) regardless.
When he wanted to whip Bella, that was $100 more.
Yet he never hurt her.
And Jeremy would listen in, without fail, to every second his wife was being taken by someone else. The surveillance system’s primary use was to safeguard the working girls from overaggressive and belligerent clients. It was rare, but Jeremy and/or Allan had to burst through the door on more than one occasion throughout the years and put an immediate end to a customer’s roughhouse, unwanted behavior. They’d subdue them if necessary and notify the police.
“Oh, a text from Allan.” Bella gazed at her smartphone with one hand and continued to roast marshmallows with the other. “Lindsay was approved for her sheriff’s card moments ago and they’re off to Oakfall. Should be back in four or five hours.”
Bella’s eyes narrowed and she offered a snarky grin at Jeremy’s correction. To him, it was imperative that all the ladies use their working names even amongst each other. In the past, those at odds would sometimes try to use any personal information they could against each other. In some cases, lives were forever wrecked because of it. Parents found out what their daughter was up to and nothing was ever the same again.
“Kayleigh,” Bella conceded and raised a curious eyebrow. “What do you think of her?”
“If Kayleigh holds up mentally and physically, she’s going to make us a lot of money. In this business, girls that young and wholesome are worth their weight in gold. You know what men who come here want, Bella. But if she can’t handle things, she’ll be like the hundreds of others we’ve had over the years who flop and leave town after a day, a week, a month. I hope you know what you’re doing by insisting we offer her a loan before her first party.”
“I believe Lindsay — Kayleigh — can handle the stress and demands. She’s young and doesn’t have a lot of experience, but she loves sex, and I’m going to work with her. I’ll teach her all I know and have her well-prepared for almost anything by the end of the week. The money doesn’t concern me, either. She’ll pay us back.”
Jeremy’s tone turned serious. “You don’t look at her the same way I do, my dear wife. Oh, I can tell. Don’t think you can fool me. To me, Kayleigh is a sweet girl, a good girl, but an asset. A highly sought-after asset who’ll do wonders for our business and its bottom line.”
And the type the bigger brothels will soon come after like a hungry pack of piranhas, Jeremy realized, and try to entice away with promises of more money.
“To you? Kayleigh is the kind of girl you’ve spent your entire life dreaming about. Don’t you dare deny it. I know you too well.” He put his hand on her thigh. “Not going to leave me for her now, are you?”
There it was again. Bella laughed, though it was a short burst this time. Her lips, her eyes, her soul, they all smiled at him in unison. “I admit it: I have a crush on Lindsay.”
Bella growled and snagged another kiss. “You know I’ve been attracted to other girls for as long as I can remember. But I’ve never been more attracted to another girl than Kayleigh. Ever. But mark my words, Jeremy McCarron. You have nothing to worry about.” She fluttered the tip of her thumb in smooth, languid circles along his chin. “You are and always will be my number one.”
“Yet you’ve forever yearned for a number two.”
There was no reason to sugar-coat or lie about it. Bella had always been 100-percent upfront and honest with Jeremy. Working in the brothel industry, their marriage wouldn’t have lasted this long otherwise. “I love all the girls we have here avcılar escort — most of the ones who’ve worked here in the past, too — and I’ve had sex with almost every single one of them. Remember Jessica? She and I didn’t get along, but if a customer picked us for a threesome, we were best friends and lovers until the clock ran out.”
“What’s your point?”
Bella clenched her hands into fists and blew the strands of yellow, sunrise-gold hair across her forehead skyward. “I’ve had sex with other working ladies and female clients so many times, Jeremy, I’ve lost count. But never have I been with one where it’s intimate. Something genuine, something special . . . something real. Like what you and I have together.”
“And you think you can have this with Kayleigh?” What you and I have doesn’t come around all too often. Jeremy was certain she’d never be able to duplicate it with anyone else.
Bella glanced down, hopeful. “Maybe? I can tell she’s interested in me.”
He put his finger on Bella’s chin and raised it upward so he could gaze into her eyes. “Sweetheart, Kayleigh is a kid. She’s only 18.”
“So was I when you first met me. And you were a heck of a lot older than I am now.”
“Touché. You got me there. No defense for that one.” Jeremy slumped his shoulders and leaned back. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, honey. I know how loving and kind you are, and I’ve supported your fantasy of having another special someone — a woman — in your life since day one. I’ve never told you no.” He reached out and smoothed his thumb between her eyebrows. “All I ask is you keep me in the loop and tell me everything that happens along the way. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course. I promise to.”
I have no doubt. Others may consider him insane for thinking this given her occupation, but Jeremy viewed Bella as the ideal, picture-perfect wife; a loyal wife whom he trusted implicitly.
“When are we finally going to start our family?” His words were gentle as he whispered into her ear and nuzzled it. “You know I want to be a father, Cinderbella, and I’m sure as hell not getting any younger. I wish you’d retire. I do.” Jeremy pressed a kiss to her temple and breathed in the fresh, feminine scent. “Seven years in this business is an eternity. You could concentrate on obtaining your graduate degree while we work on starting a family. I’d have no problem if you saw Kayleigh on the side, too. You know I’m not the jealous type.”
Bella pulled away and crossed her arms. “No. No kids, at least not now, and I’m not quitting the house. Not until our mortgage in Crescent Cove is paid off and we have more money in the bank.” Bella’s arms relaxed and a wave of sadness befell her. “I don’t want to be away from you for three weeks at a time, either. I’d be so lonely.” She gnawed on the inside of her cheek and turned pale. “I’m afraid of being alone. You’ve worked these three-week cycles for years.”
He again offered her a kiss. “I keep telling you, we could move to Nevada. I’d work a standard shift and come home to you every night. I’d take days off each week and we could spend them together.”
The problem with that was Bella preferred to live close to her family near San Francisco. Brothels were only legal in Nevada, so Jeremy couldn’t relocate his business to California. Otherwise, he would.
In a heartbeat.
“Honey, you’ve been studying so hard to get into nursing and one day become a Nurse Practitioner. And you’ve got three years to go before you earn your graduate’s degree. That’s it. You could get a job at a doctor’s office or medical facility and do what you were born to do — help people. Make them feel better. That is and always will be your one true destiny in life — your calling card.
“Here, I know you want to make your clients happy and you genuinely care for them — especially the kind, courteous ones — and that makes you a superstar. But there comes a time to call it quits and move onto the next phase of your life, your career, our life. I don’t want you to be like Mariko. She’s 34 and has been working as a courtesan, an escort, for 15 years. And she has no game plan for the future.”
Bella’s nostrils flared in ager and she even shied away from him. “I’ve never met someone outside the house like Mariko does on her time off. I am not an escort!”
“Never said you were.” Whoa, better back off. And I know you’ve never done any escorting. That was an unfortunate choice of words on Jeremy’s part.
“But the demands here, they get on your nerves. Girls aren’t supposed to last as long as you have in this business. Seven years . . . it’s forever.” Jeremy paused and a grimace flashed across his face. “I’ve never told you what to do. I’ve always supported you no matter what.” He made eye contact again. “We have money. You know we do. You don’t need to . . .”
His words trailed off. It wasn’t in Jeremy’s nature to pressure Bella into any decision. He wasn’t the possessive type and had no issues with her being with others sexually. This was a job and how she made a living. He understood. It was for him, too, like how he put his hands on Lindsay during the interview yesterday. It was necessary. Jeremy told her she was firm and sexy, among other things, but it was just business. He had no attraction for Lindsay whatsoever.
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