Blaze (Big D Escort Service Book 2)
Table of Contents
Epilogue
Blaze
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Pre-order Undertow
Try the Please Series
Also by Willow Summers
About the Author
Blaze
Big D!ck Escort Service
Willow Summers
Copyright 2017 by Willow Summers
All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this book are figments of the author’s imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.
Contact info:
Website: www.WillowSummers.com
Email: books@willowsummers.com
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Contents
Blaze
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
Pre-order Undertow
Try the Please Series
Also by Willow Summers
About the Author
Blaze
Welcome to Big D!ck Escort Service.
If you need a date, we’ve got you.
If you need wining and dining, we’ve got you.
If you need a night you’ll never forget— buckle-up buttercup, because that’s our specialty.
We’ll give you what you need, as hard as you need it.
CODE NAME: BLAZE
All the girls call me Blaze. I set panties on fire.
Just one smile and they are simmering for some of my heat. I light ‘em up and make ‘em scream.
I’m damn good at what I do.
With all the money pouring in, I’m going to ride this gig as long as possible.
But I’ve always got time to help out a friend.
So when my girl-bro Janie is in trouble with rent, I figure I’ll do the right thing and move in with her. Why not? It saves me money.
The problem is, when she starts wandering around in her under-roos, something occurs to me that hasn’t before: Not only is she awesomely sassy, she’s a scorching hot little number.
Suddenly the move doesn’t seem like such a great idea. Not if I want to keep my sanity while trying to keep my hands to myself.
NOT-THE-CLIENT: JANIE
Dave is rolling in money. Why he wants to come slum it with me, I have no idea, but whatever. It saves me money. I’m not worried about it.
Besides, his unorthodox career choice tickles the part of me that gets turned on by the taboo. If I only had as much money as he did, I’d pay for a night with him. You know, just to say I’d done it.
There’s another thing he fires up in me.
My desire to paint…him. Nude. And hard.
But he’s off-limits. Hookers can’t be in stable relationships. It would never work.
If only my muse, and my desire, would line up with my logic.
One
If there was a right way to do the Walk of Shame, Dave had created it. He was a master. He should be, after how many times he’d ended up in just such a situation.
Big Dick Escort Service, open for business.
He squinted into the bright sunlight of the morning. His shiny black dress shoes clicked softly against the walkway leading into his luxurious apartment complex. He’d moved in a year and a half ago, when the money was pouring in and the buildings were brand new. He’d never dreamed of living anywhere so fine. Hadn’t batted an eye at the exorbitant cost.
Now, however, the shininess had worn away. It wasn’t exciting anymore, and he couldn’t shake the thought that he was paying a premium for the privilege of living with snooty neighbors. Of being in a boring, quiet place with no loud parties and people up at all hours. Of a life completely opposite his childhood in a trailer park.
“Morning, Mr. Parker.” Dave nodded at his neighbor, an older fellow with a face full of wrinkles and a small poodle that was far too quiet for a dog of that size.
Even rich dogs were boring.
Mr. Parker’s wrinkles deepened as he scowled at Dave. “You have your shirt open!”
Dave glanced down at his dress shirt, unbuttoned and flaring in the breeze. He never bothered with the undershirt in his Morning After routine. “Yes, sir. But at least I have my pants buttoned. Otherwise you’d see my ding-dong.” He held up the wad of clothes in his hand. “I didn’t bother to put on my skivvies. It just eats time. I needed to be out before she woke up.”
Mr. Parker made a sound like bah. His following mumbles included the word trash.
With a smile and a swagger, Dave continued on his way. He could not have been less affected.
Lawyers screwed people for money to line their pockets. Politicians screwed countries over for the same reason. CEOs screwed the working man.
The difference between Dave and those guys?
Dave left huge smiles in his wake.
He didn’t have an ounce of shame. He came from nothing. Zero. From getting beaten on the daily and dreaming of high-class women to this—high-class women vied to get reservations with him, and he lived in this castle in the sky.
It was almost laughable.
Dave took as many reservations as he could and stay sane. He did the dreaded all-nighters, which all the guys hated for good reason. He hung out with the lonely hearts that no one else would take. The goal was to never be poor again. He did want to do something else, something more, but didn’t know what shape that would eventually take. Until then, if he was lucky enough to eventually marry a woman who could look past these years of his life, and grant him a chubby little baby or four, he wanted to overprovide for his family. To make sure his kids never had to experience an upbringing like his. All this would be worth it if he could manage that.
A heavily made-up lady in her forties with a massive wedding ring and stylish clothing widened her eyes at him. His wink brought a flush to her face. She blinked rapidly, her eyes roaming his bare chest.
Yup. He was working it.
Once inside his apartment, he tossed the wad of clothes on the leather couch and sighed with the smell and feel of home. He ignored the cavernous space, only half filled with furniture that cost too much, and peeled off his shirt and pants, adding them to the
pile. They’d all go to the dry cleaners. He was trying to return to a more frugal way of life to save more of what he worked his butt off to earn, but laundry didn’t count.
After a shower and a nap, he walked into Dick’s Gym and Fitness with fatigue weighing him down. Cindy, the cute twenty-year-old at the front desk, gave him a bubbly smile.
“Hi, Dave,” she said, and flicked her hair.
“Hey, Cindy.” He didn’t hand over his key card. He’d actually have to know where it was to do that.
After passing the divider between the gym and the entryway, he found his buddies in the free weights section—Noah and Ethan, the other two guys who made up Big Dick Escort Service, and Colton, who had recently walked away from the escort service after meeting the love of his life.
“Hey, brother,” Colton said as he stowed his gym bag in one of the cubbies that lined the wall.
“Hey.” Dave peeled off his light sweatshirt. “How goes it?”
“Good.” Colton stepped aside so Dave could put his stuff away. Bags darkened below his eyes.
“What were you doing last night?” Dave asked with a sly grin. “Reading?”
“Something like that.” Colton smirked.
“My man doesn’t read,” Noah said with a comical tweak of his eyebrows, his brown eyes sparkling with laughter. Two ladies on the treadmills threw him a longing look. “Words are hard.”
“My woman was reading to me,” Colton said, laughing.
“Madison must’ve been reading a young adult book so you could follow it.” Dave threw a towel over his shoulder.
“Maybe.” Colton paused near the rack of weights.
“What about you?” Ethan asked Dave as he moved closer to Noah. His height crested Noah’s six feet by about three inches. “You look like road kill.”
“Had an all-nighter last night. I didn’t sleep a wink. She was a cuddler.”
Noah made a sound like ugh. “Why do you still take all-nighters? It’s the garbage detail. Do your thang and get out.”
“It pays the most.” Dave shrugged. “The only thing I’m missing is sleep.”
“And your own bed.”
Dave shrugged again. “It’s work. Sometimes work sucks. It is what it is.”
Noah gave that white-toothed money-maker of a smile all the girls loved while shaking his head, drawing the eyes of a hot little number on the elliptical. “You’re a better man than I am.”
That wasn’t true at all. Dave just didn’t have parents to backstop him if he ever needed a bailout. All he ever hoped to have was what he earned himself. So if he had to slog through hell to get it, so be it. At least he had found a path to success.
“Right.” Dave slapped his hands together and prepared for the workout. “Who’s going to spot me?”
“That’s me.” Colton stepped forward.
Dave chose weights from the rack, upping the weight five pounds from normal. As he set his knee on it and got into position, Colton frowned at him. “You don’t need spotting for this.”
“True. My bad.”
Colton rolled his eyes and headed to the rack to get his own weights. It was arm day. Usually they all followed the same schedule, both because it was more enjoyable to have workout buddies, and because each of them sometimes needed someone to bust their ass if they didn’t feel like hitting the gym. A support system was key, for lifting as well as a business like Big Dick, BD for short.
Colton took the bench beside him. “Hey,” he said, gearing up. “Have you heard from Janie in a while?”
Janie was Madison’s bestie, who danced to the beat of her own drum. Her dickhead ex-boyfriend had beaten her up a couple months ago, something Dave could not stand. Thinking about it pushed his rage button.
The dude was currently out on bail. Madison worried he’d try to find Janie, and if he did, which wouldn’t be too hard, that he’d work his voodoo magic and entice her back with him. From the sounds of it, he was a grade-A sociopath. His ability to manipulate that woman was beyond what any of them could understand, and certainly something they’d never experienced.
So whenever Madison sounded the alarm that Janie hadn’t checked in in a while, they were all on high alert.
“No. I’ve been busy. I haven’t had a chance to bug the shit out of her.” Dave strained with his reps, the small weight increase teaming up with his exhaustion and making the exercise tough. “That’s my bad. Has Madison gone by the apartment?” Madison had moved in with Colton after a hot second, but Janie was still living in Madison’s old apartment.
“Yeah. Janie wasn’t there. The place was clean. Maddie doesn’t think Janie’s been there since Ethan blew through.”
Ethan had an issue with OCD. Dave invited him over whenever the cleaners weren’t due in for a while and his place needed a wipe-down.
“How long ago was that?” Dave asked, switching arms.
“A week ago.”
Alarm bled through Dave. “A week? And you’re just now asking about her?”
“Asking you? Yes. We know you figured out where the ex lives. Maddie doesn’t want you to end up in jail.”
Weights forgotten, Dave headed over to his cubby. He typed a quick text to Janie. Where you at, honkey? Respond or I’ll go knocking on doors.
He stashed the phone again, and when he turned back, the other guys were all staring at him.
Yes, he had a soft spot for battered women. He’d grown up with one. And yes, when confronted with that particular dredge of human society, he tended to lose his cool a bit. Janie was a rock-star little lady whose superpower was refreshing unpredictability, and who was as smart as a whip but couldn’t express it like other people because of learning problems. Something in him said protect at all costs.
He had a blind spot where it concerned her, he realized. Had since the first moment he saw her—struggling to stand straight after walking out of the hospital, her face a bruised, swollen mess. She was beaten down by life, but as tough as they came because of it—he knew that type. He was that type.
He’d gotten his golden ticket. He wanted to hang around as her bodyguard until she did as well. He wanted to pay it forward. Not to mention that she was as fun as hell. The stuff she came out with had him in stitches. All the guys liked having her around.
“This might not be what you’re thinking.” Colton hovered close, probably trying to do damage control. “Maddie doesn’t think she would go back to the ex. We don’t need to jump to conclusions and go busting down doors. That’s a good way to get the cops called. You don’t need to mess with that. We just wanted to check and see if you’d heard anything.”
“She’s not rational where it concerns her ex. So no, she might not be with him, but then again, she might. And that is a good enough reason to go busting down doors." Dave patted his buddy. “Relax. I’m good. I’m as cool as Ethan.”
“There is no one as cool as Ethan,” Noah said.
“It’s an art.” A slow smile soaked up Ethan’s face. “But I’ll go with you to bust down a door. I’ve got nothing else going on.”
“Oh good, Ethan. Encourage him.” Colton shook his head.
“There we go. Working out, then violence. Perfect.” Dave gave Colton a thumbs-up.
“Not to be a dick, but there’s a flaw in your logic—working out will mean exhaustion, and we’ll get our asses handed to us,” Noah said.
“Says the only one of us trained as a boxer.” Dave wiped off his brow.
“A few lessons hardly count as my being a boxer.” Noah made a funny face.
“You can kick his ass.” Ethan pointed at Dave.
“Oh good, Ethan, yeah. Bring that up again. Thanks, bro.” Dave moved on to the next station.
“Don’t mention it.” Ethan chuckled.
An hour later, Dave stared down at his phone. He had a message from his mother regarding the cleaners he’d sent to her trailer. She thought they—the same crew that kept his apartment spick and span—were stealing. What they could possibly steal of valu
e, he didn’t know. He didn’t imagine they’d be into her collection of chipped and cracked porcelain cats.
Nothing had come in from Janie.
He grabbed his gym bag and nodded at Colton as he passed. “Ethan, we rollin’ or what?”
“I’m with ya, boss.” Ethan strolled along behind him, his movements as languid as if they were headed to the beach instead of a smack-down.
“Whoa, whoa.” Colton snatched up his bag and followed. “What’s the plan?”
“She didn’t respond.” Dave pushed up his eyebrows and shook his head. “She knows better. The last time she ignored me, I busted in on her when she was sitting on the toilet. That shit’s embarrassing. She has always responded since.”
“I didn’t ask for the history. I asked for the plan.”
“You know the plan.”
“Bust in heads,” Ethan supplied. “One head in particular.”
“You’re liking this a little too much,” Noah said to Ethan, keeping pace.
“Nah.” Ethan ran a hand through his messy light brown hair. “It’ll be fine. Her ex-boyfriend is the artist type. All long and stringy. At least, that’s what it sounded like from Janie’s description. He’ll shit his pants when we show up. We’re good. I just want to see what kind of art he gets into.”
Colton let out a breath as they passed the divider to the front of the gym. Noah and Ethan stopped by the counter. Dick, the owner of the gym and the guy who had turned a joke into an actual escort service, had replaced Cindy at the desk. He sat in his over-burdened chair, pounding at his laptop’s keyboard with two fingers. The man needed to learn how to properly type.