He raises his eyebrows. When he speaks, his voice is very low. ‘You’re wearing crotchless panties?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Why did you choose those?’
‘They seemed appropriate.’
‘Why? I’m paying for an escort, Sophie. For the company of an attractive woman. You seem to imply that I’m paying you for sex. If that’s what you think, why don’t you work in a brothel?’
‘What do you think this place is?’ But I feel deflated even as I make the wisecrack. He is playing mind games with me, determined to make me feel as trashy and low as possible.
‘Maybe, Sophie, I should swap you for a sophisticated lady. I’ll hand you over to those sweaty-looking boys in the corner. They look as if they could use a good rummage in a willing cunt. What do you say?’
He indicates Lloyd and the waiters.
For that moment, I’m enormously tempted to say, ‘Go on the
n. Give me to them.’ Then I can disappear with Lloyd and fuck him raw while this entitled tosser talks bonuses and braggadocio with a real working girl.
Lloyd’s half-smile when I look at him gives me nerve though.
‘Who says I’m wearing them for you? I just happen to like a bit of fresh air, that’s all.’
Conrad likes this answer. He laughs. There is a telltale lump at his crotch.
‘Are you ready for some sophisticated dining then?’ I wave a hand towards the Michelin-starred restaurant.
‘Yes, I think I am. And I’m ready to start getting what I’ve paid for, Sophie. In full. Are you ready to start giving it?’
‘Absolutely. Just say the word.’
He proffers an arm and we glide out of the bar, causing everyone we pass to look after us and mutter curiously about what’s making that strange rustling noise.
In the restaurant, I sit with my knees half a foot apart, trying as hard as I can to minimise the noise of commerce emanating from my groin.
‘Tell me about your other clients,’ Conrad requests, though it’s not really a request, more a sort of command. ‘What was your last one like?’
I have to think. Before Lloyd, there were so many men. Which should I choose?
‘My last one? My last two, I should say. A pair of clients. Professional footballers.’
‘Misers. Couldn’t they splash out on one each?’
‘They weren’t Premiership. Pretty low down the league, I think.’
Conrad puffs up his chest. ‘I could afford a much more expensive girl,’ he hisses, as if I have implied that he’s poor. ‘But value for money is what I’m all about. It’s how I make my cash and it’s how I keep hold of it. So, your two footballers? How did that play out?’
‘They were strong, powerful men, but not very bright. They made me talk about The X Factor and other TV shows I don’t really have time to watch. Frankly, it was a relief to get to the bedroom.’
‘And when you got there?’
‘You want the full post-match report, or the highlights?’
‘Highlights will be fine.’
‘Champagne, Jacuzzi, then they took turns. Oral, straight sex, bit of sixty-nine.’
‘No double penetration?’