Worth Every Penny

by

Roo

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. The behavior, characteristics, and opinions of the characters in this story are not known to be the behavior, characteristics, or opinions of real persons, nor should they be construed as such. This story is not intended to inspire any kind of behavior, nor does it endorse any kind of behavior. The story is a fantasy. No portion of this work may be copied without permission of the author. Copyright Roo 2002

"Jesus-fucking-Christ." I swore as I stomped into the bathroom. If people knew what my life was really like, well, there were some days they wouldn't envy me at all.

"Shrug it off, mate." I heard Mark set my bag down in the other room.

"Easy for you to say. It's not your face splashed all over the front of every piece of shit tabloid on the stands!" I raised my voice to be heard over the rush of water as the toilet flushed.

"It's been a rough week, Russ, that's all."

I heard a pop and a fizz and knew that he was getting me the beer my nerves were screaming for. I rolled my neck, trying to get rid of the tension in my shoulders as I stepped out, wiping my freshly washed hands on the tail of my flannel shirt before reaching for the tinnie.

"You’re a good man, Mark." I tapped it against his bottle of water before gulping half of it down.

"So're you, man." He pulled a sip of water past a winking grin. "No matter how the papers make you out."

I fell back onto the couch with a sigh. "Fuck yourself."

"Rain check."

I rubbed my eyes, passed a hand back through my hair and then took another long pull. The beer was good, cold, and crisp, but as wound up as I was tonight, even a coldie from my dwindling stash of VBs wasn’t going to do the trick. At least not alone.

"Shot?" I asked, pushing up off the couch again, heading for the minibar in the corner. It wasn't so mini anymore, not after the way we'd been adding to it. Full sized bottles of Jack, Johnny, José, and several of their well-known cohorts sat on top, and the fridge was full of wine and mixers.

"Nah, mate. I'm still on duty." Mark watched me pour myself a shot and toss it down. There was something like wariness in his eyes. A sort of "Here we go again" look.

"What?" I demanded.

His face flushed, busted. "I was just wondering …are we goin' out?"

He didn't exactly look thrilled at the prospect of playing babysitter after the long day we'd had. For a moment my anger flared; what was I paying him for, after all? Then I let out a long sigh and retrieved my beer as I flopped back onto the couch. None of this was his fault. I had only myself to blame, but knowing that wasn't going to make it any easier. "Got a better idea?"

Dumbrell leant up in his seat, elbows on his knees, the water bottle clasped loosely in his hands. His gaze leveled on me, his words low and reasonable, like a man calming a skittish horse. "All I'm sayin' is, right now, everyone and their fuckin' grandma is lookin' at you. They're waiting to see if you'll fuck up." His tone dropped lower to explain things he knew I already knew. "Like it or not, mate, you're living in a bloody fishbowl, and, well, as bad as it is to have your breakup splashed all over the news …if you were to fuck up, y'know? Say, have it reported you were bellowing and pissed in some club …?" He paused, took a sip of his water, then shrugged. "Well, I'm just sayin'."

I looked away as my fingers fished in my shirt pocket to pull out a smoke. None of this was news. It was bad enough to end a relationship, but having it become a public affair was the first class shits, as I was finding out. Again. As high as my star had risen, well, that just gave me that much farther to fall. And I was getting the gnawing suspicion that no matter what I tried to do right, no matter how many nice things I said about my ex to the press, I was somehow going to come out of this the bad guy when the dust settled.

I lit my smoke then killed the last of my VB with a long guzzle. "Wish I had a fuckin' bike here."

Mark nodded sympathetically as he sat back. That he could've been talked into. A bit of a breeze in our faces would do us both some good. "I could ring for a massage."

"Nah." My foot jiggled as I pulled a long drag. "Last time I got one here, that bitch nearly mangled my shoulder, remember?"

"I remember," he nodded, cocking a brow over a smirk. "But that wasn't the type of massage I meant."

"You're fuckin' mad." I pulled another drag and got up to get a fresh beer, but now that the idea had been planted, my mind wouldn't leave it alone. Maybe that was what I needed. After all, the past few months of my so-called Love Affair hadn't been exactly loving. More like I'd gotten the cold shoulder from a woman I had made every show of adoring. All it had gotten me was to get shrugged off, once even in a tab photo. No doubt that was the one they'd be running along with the headline "Crowe Gets the Flick.”

Yeah, maybe a bit of tension release was just what was needed. "Is that even safe?"

Mark nodded. "Discreet, too, apparently." He dug into his wallet and pulled out a card. "I got the number from one of those FBI blokes after the Globes."

My brows climbed at that as I reached for the card. "You're shitting me." He shook his head, and that got a giggling snort as I read it. Elegant Escorts and Out-call Massage. Put Yourself In Our Hands. It was a local number, and there was an 800 number after that. I shook my head as I handed it back. "So, that's where my American tax dollars go?"

He nodded as he took the card back. "Best pussy your hard earned can buy."

I sat up to flick ash into the crystal bowl on the low table in front of the couch, ignoring his expectant silence. As tempting as it sounded, paying for it at this point seemed too pathetic to bear.

Still, I must have thought about it for about two tics too long.

"Should I make the call?"

Shaking my head, I ran a hand back through my hair, hoping that he couldn't see the embarrassment hit as the colour rose warm in my cheeks. "Nah. I'll be all right. I just need some space."

Mark had been around the entertainment industry long enough to know his cue when he heard it. Recapping the water bottle, he pushed to his feet with a small grunt of effort. "Y'gonna be okay?"

"Yeh." I nodded, not looking at him. The idea of paying for a few hours of company had been replaced by thoughts of a long hot soak. My best bet was probably to simply sweat this out, literally and figuratively.

"Dinner?"

I shook my head, not in any mood to try and choke food down. I felt him give my good shoulder a squeeze. He was always careful about that, ever a good mate.

"I'm right next door if y'need me."

I nodded and waved him out. Right now, all I wanted was another drink and to be alone with my misery.

I managed to wait until the door closed behind him before going to the bar and pouring myself another shot.

*

To his credit, Mark somehow sounded surprised when his phone rang an hour or so later. Even more to his credit, he also managed not to sound relieved when he heard my request.

*

She said her name was Cherise, which was total bullshit, of course. That was about as real as the deep burgundy red of her hair, but by the time she arrived, that didn't matter. I'd already had a few more drinks, looking to cool my jangling nerves, telling myself over and over again that this was good, this was easy, this was going to keep me out of trouble.

Besides, as promised, she was an absolute fuckin' knock out.

She stepped into my suite, cool as you please, carrying her massage table as if it weighed no more than a six pack. She was dressed in casual gear, as any masseuse might be, but even the loose track pants couldn't hide the lean shape of her legs or the roundness of her high, perfect heart shaped ass as she bent over to set the table down and shake my hand.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thank you." Her voice was smooth and low. Not quite a purr, and there was a self-assured quality to it that kept her from seeming kittenish. Her eyes moved over me, and all I saw was appreciation for what she could make out through the hotel robe. If she cared who I was, she didn't show it, which was just how I wanted it.

I pulled a smoke out of my pocket, my eyes caught on hers over the flame as I lit up. "Are you now or have you ever been employed by any law enforcement agency?"

She laughed, the sound light and musical. Now that I'd said it, I had to admit, the words didn't sound nearly as good as they had when I'd practised them earlier.

"No." She shook her head making her hair move like loose silk. "But I have a pretty good uniform and some cuffs in the back of my car, if you want."

A giggle escaped along with my exhaled smoke. Even to my own ears, it sounded high and a bit nervous, but the ice had been broken now, and I found that with the next breath, I'd relaxed a little.

"Let's sit." Cherise took my free hand and led me to the couch, tugging me gently down beside her. She sat close but not so close as to crowd me. "I can give you a massage if you'd like. It's a nice way to get things started, if you're feeling tense." Her long fingers moved to stroke through my curls, still a little damp from the bath. "Swedish, Shiatsu, reflexology …."

I couldn't help smiling as the feel of her hand running through my hair automatically began to relax me. "You're a talented girl."

"I'm working my way through massage school."

Another lie, of course. Her eyes gave her away. Not that I expected the truth. "Not a sick Grannie?"

Her smile curled at that, and she nodded. "I had one. It was her dying wish that I become a licensed massage therapist."

Another bubbling little giggle escaped as I leant up to stub out my smoke. "What a fuckin' crock." I settled back to let her stroke my hair some more. All bullshit aside, she had a very soothing touch. My eyes moved over her face as her fingers slipped through my curls, and I couldn't help briefly wondering how and why she'd gotten into her line of work. She was beautiful, had a good sense of humour, was obviously fairly bright. Asking would have gotten me nowhere, though, and I'd had enough lies to last me a lifetime.

Her fingers continued their travels, gently combing my hair back from my forehead, her nails scraping pleasantly against my scalp. I closed my eyes with a low sigh. "Mmmmmm …s'nice, luv."

'Yeahhh, you work too hard, I can tell." Her voice was softer now and closer. I could feel the warmth of her breath near my shoulder. "You just need some looking after."

"Mmm hmmm." I felt myself smile agreeably as I concentrated on the feel of her fingers slipping through my curls.

"Gonna take such good care of you," she promised in a whisper by my ear, and then her hand slid away and I felt the cushion shift as she got up.

When I opened my eyes, she was standing near the couch, toeing off her shoes. Her light nylon track jacket went next, revealing a perfect set of full round tits and no tan lines. Her breasts were no more real than her name or her hair colour, and they were much larger and fuller than the sort of girls I usually went for, but on her, they worked. In fact, they were glorious.

"Damn." I couldn't help licking my lips. They seemed dry, even though I was fairly sure I was salivating.

With the hint of a smile curling at her lips and glinting in her eyes, Cherise hooked her thumbs into either side of her track pants and wriggled them down, making a bit of a show of it, revealing her fine, shapely body by slow, tantalising measures.

Her waist nipped in neatly below her ribcage, accentuating her flat, tanned belly, then flowed out again to become the swell of her hips. Another little wiggle and her trackies slipped down her long legs to reveal the swell of her mound, covered by a lacy thong. The white of the lace seemed all the brighter against her honey brown skin.

"Niiiiice, luv." My fingers stretched out to stroke the warm flesh of her flank as she stepped gracefully out of her track pants and toed them aside.

"You like?" She smiled down at me, her hands playing with my hair again.

I could feel my eyes smiling up at her as I pressed a light kiss to the place where her belly went flat again just above the scalloped edge of the lace. Her skin smelled good and warm and soft, like a woman's skin should. "Mmmm …very much."

The scent of her pussy rose to tease me, and I rubbed lower, feeling satin and lace against my face and lips.

"Mmm, yeahhh …." Her fingers wound into my hair as I nuzzled at her soft, lace covered cleft. Her long nails slipped down to drag low on my neck as I let her fill my senses.

She felt good with her warm, lush body pressed against me, the smell of her sex ripe as I kissed and licked her through the lace. Her hands stayed busy, slipping down the back of my robe, touching and kneading and lightly scratching over my back, neck, and shoulders.

I was getting more and more turned on by the minute, could feel my cockhead brush against the terrycloth of the robe as my bolt unfurled and hardened. When I'd had my fill of tasting her pussy, I leant back against the cushions and my hard on emerged, flushed and dusky where the robe parted over my lap.

"Ooohhh, nice," Cherise smiled, and her long lashes rose over her china blue eyes, signaling approval. A moment later she was on her knees before me, eye level with my cock. "It's so beautiful, baby. So big!"

She reached for me, and I could feel my gaze go heavy and slow as she stroked her hand up and down my shaft letting the loose, velvety skin move over the stiff muscles beneath. I let out a sigh of pleasure and shifted so that my hips tilted forward in offering.

"Mmmmmmm…" Her big blue eyes flicked up to mine as her tongue drew long licks up and down my length. She held my gaze as she dipped lower, tugging my cock to the side as she lapped at my balls between my widely splayed legs.

"Hohh yehhh, baby," I breathed, watching her. "That's nice …so nice."

"Mmm hmmm …." Her lips curled into a smile around her nimble pink tongue as she licked teasing designs all over me. By the time she dragged her lips up to wrap around my head, I was fairly throbbing with need.

"God, yes!" My fingers knotted in her hair as she began to bob her mouth on me in time to the firm stroking of her hand. The feel of her hot, wet mouth drawing on me - her soft tongue jutting down to cradle the underside - was magnificent. It was all I could do to keep my eyes from rolling back in my head.

Instead, I tucked my chin to my chest, forcing my gaze to focus on her as I swept her hair back for a better view. Her rosy lips were stretched wide around my girth and she even drooled a little, but the warm wetness running down my shaft to pool on my balls only added to the incredible sensations she was creating.

When she had me good and wet, she leant up and wrapped her tits around me with a wickedly lascivious grin. I started to pant as she dipped her head to let her pink tongue catch my head each time it emerged from between her close pressed mounds, fingers pinching at her own hard nipples. The sight alone was worth every penny I was paying her and then some.

"Ohh yeh, baby, god that's good." I felt like the star of my own private porno. Star and director both. Anything I wanted from her was mine, within reason. All I had to do was ask.

My legs spread wider, and I undid the tie of the robe. "Play with my balls, honey. I like that."

"Mmmm." Her tongue flicked playfully at the ridge of my knob as her hand snaked between my legs. "Such nice big balls, too." She rolled them in her hand, then gave a tug, and was rewarded by my low moan.

I breathed in a hiss as her mouth descended again, warm and wet and tugging insistently as her lips and tongue milked at me. "Hoh, god baby, yessss …, so good, so fffuckin' good …god yeh, just like that …." My hips began to rise and fall to her rhythm. She had me now.

My hand moved to the back of her head, as much holding on as guiding. She wasn't swallowing me deep, but with one hand working my shaft and the other toying with my balls, I didn't care. Every tug of her mouth brought me closer and closer to coming.

I heard a low rough sound, like a voice rising and falling, words mixing with husky groans. It was probably me, had to be, but I had no sense of speaking. There was only that feeling of pleasure tightening its grasp around me as my body teetered on the brink of release.

"Hohyeh, honey, that’s it - hoohhh, fuck me with your mouth, …ohhh yeh, fffuck, sssooo good, so fuckin good! …Hohhh, shit, I'm so close, baby, fffuuuck, I'm gonna -"

Swirling red blackness swam up to pull me down as warm waves of pleasure rolled through me. Little explosive flashes went off like fireworks behind my eyes, like tingly electric charges, and they shook me as I rutted, coming in her mouth.

My eyes flew open just in time to see a last pulse of cum spout across her lips, and then my own ragged breathing filled my ears as she licked it away.

"Mmm, baby. You came so good for me." Cherise's hand continued to milk me slowly, looking to drain me of every last drop. "You came so good and hard."

The warm purr of approval in her voice washed over me like a loving caress. In that moment, I would have given her anything she wanted. Money. A car. Jewelry. If ever women truly understood the power they wielded at moments like these, we men would all be well and truly doomed. But what a way to go.

Her eyes slanted into a cat-like grin as her warm tongue lapped and stroked, licking me clean, sending aftershocks of pleasure shivering through me. When she was satisfied with her work, she sat back on her heels and daintily licked her fingers clean, holding my gaze and smiling all the while like a kitten at a bowl of cream.

"That was sooooo goood." I let out a low, relaxed chuckle as my hand reached out to stroke her soft cheek. "I almost wish I could keep you."

Her grin became a laugh, soft and musical like the first one. Something in her eyes said I wasn't the first man to say that. "You couldn't afford me."

"No," My grin was mellow as my head rolled back against the cushions. Everything felt so loose and easy now. Nothing much bothering me at all. "Probably not."

"All right if I use your bathroom?" Cherise stood up and began to gather her things.

"Anything y'like, luv. Have a drink, make yourself at home."

She laughed and ruffled my hair affectionately as if she was onto me, understood the big lazy contented cat that I'd become.

I stretched languidly, reaching for a smoke as she stepped out of view. A long drag as I extended my legs, rolled my feet, toes snapping before I flopped back onto the cushions again, relaxed in every fibre of my being. At this rate, I'd be lucky to make it to my bed before I fell asleep.

"Cherise?"

"Yeah, baby?" The toilet flushed and the water ran briefly in the sink before she reappeared, fully dressed, running a boar's hair brush through her hair. She was tidy again, her make up touched up, her lippy refreshed and in place on her smile.

"Bring me a beer?" I tilted back to look at her, angled and upside down.

"Sure," she chuckled easily, and a moment later she was leaning over the back of the couch, pressing a coldie into my hand, full breasts resting against the back of my head.

I cracked it open and took a sip. The cool wetness felt good on my rough, dry throat. I sighed deeply as her strong hands began to knead my shoulders.

"Did I take good care of you?"

"Yehh, luv, you did."

"Are you gonna call me again?"

"Probably, yeh." I felt a grin curl at my lips as her thumbs worked the knots at the base of my neck.

"Good." She leant down and kissed the top of my head. "I want you to."

Her hands stopped kneading and slipped away, and a white card fluttered down onto the robe across my lap. It was like the one Mark had shown me before, but had her name in the lower left corner in curling embossed script.

"Goodbye, Cherise." I craned my neck to smile up at her.

"Goodbye, Russell." Her smile met my own. "Take care, baby. I'll see you sometime soon."

Her fingers took one last ride through my thick, dark hair, and then she let me go.

I pulled a slow drag as I heard her pick up her massage table. The door opened and closed again with a click as the locks engaged, and then, she was gone.

*

I awoke an hour later, clicked the static off the big TV, downed the last of my beer, and poured myself into bed. My last thought was that this was the most relaxed I'd felt in days, maybe even weeks …and then my dreams swam up to meet me, pulling me under, rocking me down into gentle oblivion.

*

Mark looked vaguely worried when he showed me the bill the next morning, but I just laughed, told him to pay it, and added on a generous gratuity to boot. His eyes went wide when I handed the charge slip back, having put the whole thing on my business account along with the notation "Outcall - massage."

"Christ, mate, that's pricey," Dumbrell shook his head as he tucked the bill back into it's envelope and set it aside for mailing.

"Nah, I've lost that much betting cockroach races."

That made him laugh. "Can't argue you there." He sorted through the rest of the morning mail, making piles based on urgency and which ones needed my personal attention. "Hope it was worth it?"

I could only grin and stretch. Even my publicist's call with the news of my face on the morning tabloids had rated little more than a scowl. It wouldn't last, but for now, I felt fine. "Every penny, mate …worth every penny."

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