Forfeiting Decency Read online

  Copyright © 2016 by Rachel Schneider

  All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1539837992

  ISBN-10: 1539837998

  This book may not be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  Cover Design: Murphy Rae with Indie Solutions

  Editor: Murphy Rae with Indie Solutions

  Interior Formatting: Wendi Temporado of Ready, Set, Edit

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Acknowledgements

  To Sara, for making this a possibility.

  IT’S IN THIS MILLISECOND of a moment that I know I’m seriously convoluted and completely fucked up. I feel victorious. I keep my chin jutted out, defiant, refusing to back down. I want this. My body is humming with anger, hurt, and the adrenaline of goading him.

  And it sickens me.

  SMACK

  Everyone seems to freeze as the sound of the girl’s palm meeting a man’s face reverberates throughout the bar, and the silence that descends makes it that much more awkward. Most assume he’s her boyfriend, but whatever their relationship may be, this isn’t the place to cause a scene. Hudson’s is a members-only, high-end cocktail bar. Admittance requires some serious name-dropping, a six-figure minimum annual salary, and a non-disclosure agreement signed upon entry. How this particular couple got in is a mystery, but it’s evident they’re new. There’s rarely a need for him, but the security guard makes his way toward the couple as the rest of the bar falls back into routine.

  Mondo shakes his head. “Puppy love,” Mondo says, shooting Kaley a smirk as he dries a glass behind the bar.

  Kaley returns his smile. “If you want to call it that.”

  The girl’s boyfriend spent the last hour checking Kaley out, as well as anything else within spitting distance. Not just the women, either.

  “He’s late.”

  Mondo doesn’t have to say who; Kaley already knows. A glance at her phone tells her he’s exactly one hour late. There’s a good chance Peter isn’t coming. It’s not uncommon for him to be a no-show. Maybe the wife gets a little needy from time to time, or maybe he actually has to work. Either way, Kaley has seen him once since he left for vacation three weeks ago.

  Kaley twirls the stem of her empty wine glass, too scared to order another and not be able to pay for it.

  “Has he messaged you?” Mondo asks.

  She shakes her head. She’s adorned in one of her most expensive dresses, waiting for a man to come and pay for her twenty-dollar glass of wine. The irony isn’t lost on her.

  Mondo sets down the dishrag, leaning across his folded arms on the bar top. “Who’s on the radar, then?”

  Casually, Kaley pulls the hair from her neck, making eye contact with the man sipping scotch in one of the alcove booths. He’s mid sip, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes.

  Noticing her gaze, Mondo says, “Senator Landry. Oddly single in the political world at the ripe age of thirty-four. Currently resides in Bristle and attends mass every Sunday.”

  Mondo is Kaley’s go-to background check. Kaley’s never gone home with a man that Mondo didn’t approve of first. He has details on anyone who’s been in this bar. So far, he hasn’t steered Kaley wrong.

  “Democrat or Republican?”

  Mondo gives her a look. “Does it matter?”

  No, no it doesn’t.

  Pushing the wine glass away from her, Kaley uncrosses her legs, turning to where Senator Landry is just within view. She wonders if he’ll make her call him by his title when they’re together. Some powerful men are narcissistic like that.

  Every man is a little different, but essentially, they all want the same thing: to feel needed. Some are funny, some are serious, and there’s everything in between. Whether they prefer to dress in a three-piece suit or jeans, they’re all needy bastards. They take until there’s nothing left, and that’s the scariest part of the life Kaley leads. One day she might not have anything left to give, and she’ll have nothing to show for it.

  “Is he nice?” Kaley asks.

  “He’s never gone home with anyone, so I can’t say for sure. He hasn’t had any bad press so far.”

  That’s tricky. “He might not be into it.”

  Mondo clicks his tongue, a wry smile on his face. “He’s a politician and comes from money. He’s here for a reason, probably really good at hiding it. Besides, have you ever met a man who turned you down?”

  Can’t argue with that.

  Kaley keeps an eye out for the senator in her peripheral vision. Occasionally, he glances in her direction or at his watch, but Kaley remains seated. She really should be making the first move, but she wants to give him the opportunity to come to her first. Usually, she likes to stick to her regulars, someone she knows what to expect with. But tonight is particularly slow. If he’s looking for what she’s selling, he’ll have to make the first move.

  This isn’t new to her. She comes from the same money that’s sitting in this room. It’s full of corruption and lies and self-fulfillment—everything that she was taught how to master—and it’s easy. Her family’s money may be gone, but she doesn’t have anything to prove. Hudson’s fits her like a glove—like coming home.

  When Senator Landry finally does grow the balls to approach, Kaley doesn’t let her haughtiness show. He takes the seat to her right, but she doesn’t move or acknowledge his arrival. Mondo takes his second order of scotch.

  Then he speaks. “It’s after nine. Does that mean I’m in the clear?”

  Kaley immediately knows he’s referring to Peter. Peter meets her here every Tuesday and Thursday at the same time. Realizing he’s aware of this tells her he can’t be that new to the scene.

  Proficiently, Kaley looks over her shoulder at him. “What happens after nine?” she asks, playing coy.

  He shrugs, looking a little too smug for Kaley’s liking. “You tell me.”

  “Okay, you have my attention.”

  “Do I? Someone isn’t going to come sweep you away?”

  She gives an impish smile. “Only if you’re too slow.”

  He’s amused, but still cautious. “I didn’t realize it was a race.”

  “Isn’t
everything a race?”

  He weighs the point back-and-forth. “That’s a valid but sad position on life.”

  “It’s only sad if you don’t accept it.” Especially as a politician, but Kaley doesn’t voice her thoughts.

  Mondo sets the senator’s drink down in front of him, and he takes a sip, giving her a satisfied nod. “You’ve got an interesting view on things.”

  Kaley shrugs, indifferent to his opinion. To her, life is the way it is. You adapt and move forward, or break in the process.

  She swivels toward him, finally giving him her full attention. “I do a lot of interesting things.” She re-crosses her legs.

  He smirks, but his smile gives away his desire. Taking one last swallow of his drink, he drops a bill on the bar and stands, reaching for her hand. “Care to show me?”

  “Where to?”

  He pulls her to his side, looping an arm around her waist as he guides her to the back of the bar and toward the hotel lobby. “A room is closer, don’t you think?”

  “You already have a room?”

  They step into an open elevator, congregating to one side, letting another couple occupy the other. “I occasionally book a hotel when I know I’m going to be working late in the city.”

  “Sounds like you work too much.’

  “Depends on who you ask.”

  Kaley smiles, a tad impressed by his charm. Only a little, but that’s more than she can say about her other clients. Senator Landry is handsome in the classic politician style. Slick hair, clean shaven, medium build. The prospect of the night doesn’t look too bad, considering she might actually enjoy it.

  They exit on the tenth floor and enter a small suite with a king-sized bed, the furniture and décor a familiar sight. Kaley runs her hand over the dresser, taking note of the clothes tossed across the bed and shaving kit perched on the nightstand. Her heart thumps against her chest, trying to remind her to be cautious, but sometimes she doesn’t think she remembers what it feels like to be scared. She turns to face him as he shrugs out of his coat.

  He briefly makes eye contact, allowing his gaze to travel the length of her body, blatant lust evident on his face. “This isn’t where you give me the I-never-do-this speech, is it?” he asks frankly, but with that same charm that had appealed to her from the beginning.

  She smiles, thankful for his bluntness. “I couldn’t pretend to give that speech if I tried.”

  “We’re both in understanding, then,” he says, looking at her meaningfully.

  “I think we are.”

  A look of relief flashes across his features, quickly replaced by one of desire. He takes one long step toward her, placing one hand around her waist and another firmly behind her neck. Tilting her head to the side, he places his lips against her throat, trailing down to her clavicle. She wills her heart to respond, wanting to desire his touch, aching to feel some sort of excitement, a hint of arousal, anything. But…

  …nothing.

  All she feels is the wetness of his tongue dotting across her skin as he pulls the zipper of her dress down, yet the steady knock of her heart never changes pace. Time seems to skip with every blink. Like the shutter of a camera, things move in fast forward. Every time she opens her eyes, the scene changes, forcing her to refocus.

  He pulls off the remnants of her dress and drops it on the floor.

  Blink.

  He’s climbing over her as her hands and knees meet the sheets.

  Blink.

  He retrieves a condom as he kneels between her legs, smiling like he’s won the lottery.

  Blink.

  He enters her and she voluntarily moans at the feeling.

  Blink.

  Repetitive movements, sounds, breaths.

  Blink.

  And it’s over before she even realizes it, the warmth of his body replaced by the cold as he rolls off of her.

  “Are you going to lie there all night or what?”

  Kaley turns and sits up on her elbows, pulling her gaze from the bedding, concerned by how much time has passed. “Well, that depends.”

  He laughs, pulling on a pair of boxers. “That’s assuming I’d even want you to spend the night.” He slides onto the bed, propping his head up on his elbow near her. “Although, morning sex would be a bonus.”

  “You don’t pay me to stay; you pay me to leave. That would be counterproductive.”

  It takes a moment, but his smile wavers when he realizes she’s serious. He pulls back, giving her an incredulous look. “Pay?”

  The word hangs in the air between them.

  She points at him. “You,” she says, slowly turning the direction of her finger to herself. “Pay me.”

  “Uh,” he hesitates, shaking his head. “No?”

  She sits up. “Yes. That’s what we do. We have sex, you pay me, and no one finds out.”

  He looks up at her from his position, now completely at ease, all hesitation gone. “I’m single. Why would I care if anyone finds out?”

  “Because you’re a senator,” she says, voice rising with her panic.

  “And I’m not allowed to have sexual relations because of that? I can assure you, that’s not how this works.”

  “That’s exactly how this works.” Kaley stands, quickly pulling on her underwear. “Hudson’s is a bar for secrecy. You signed a non-disclosure upon entering.”

  He smirks at her, his cockiness hitting an all-time high. “The non-disclosure is an insurance policy instilled for anonymous business decisions between public figures. Just because other men pay for sex doesn’t mean I do. Give me some credit.”

  She’s astonished. Flabbergasted. At a complete loss as to how she found herself in this position. “You knew I was an escort,” she says, working to keep calm. “You said we were both in understanding.”

  “Of where the night was headed, not that I’d be paying for it.”

  Tears threaten to break as Kaley gets dressed, ignoring the obscene pounding of her heart, annoyed by its renewed vigor.

  “Oh, come on. There are worse things you could have been doing for free.”

  His words grate against Kaley’s ears as she attempts to block them out.

  “And it’s not like it wasn’t good for you, too.”

  Sitting on the corner of the bed, she stops to slide on her heels. “You knew.” She turns facing the him. “You knew this is what I do, and you took advantage of me.”

  He sits up. “If you’re looking to get paid,” he says, a new level of seriousness taking over his features. “I have a better proposition for you.”

  ONE DAY I’LL DIE, but I’m really, really hoping it’s not today. I’m not sure if it will be the car or Lilly that does me in. My tiny car is running on its last leg and it might blow up. Soon. The longer I drive, the more I regret not eating that chocolate croissant from Starbucks. The five-dollar cup of tea was already pushing it, but if I’m going to die, I’d rather be stuffed with the yummy gooeyness of a warm baked good. I hold the cup up, reading the misspelling of my name.

  Kaleigh.

  I roll my eyes and take a sip. There’s a chance Lilly might actually kill me when I arrive. It’s up in the air. She might be happy to see me, but I’m almost positive that once she learns I’ve been living less than an hour away, she’ll quickly change tune. No contact. Not a phone call, a text, or a handwritten note for the past four years. Unless you count the picture I sent her on a whim from Paris, along with the two gifts she had bought for Kip and Justin which she left in my car. I don’t know why, but I felt like she would need them.

  In my defense, she hasn’t tried to contact me either. The last time we’ve spoken in person was right after the verdict was read and the trial was over. Our lives had both changed drastically, but Lilly took it way harder than I think I realized at the time.

  Lance gave me her address. A British voice comes over my phone, telling me to turn right and I will arrive at my destination on the left.

  This is it.

  I park in th
e driveway of a stout townhouse. The familiar weathered truck that’s parked out front gives me conformation I’m at the right place. I turn off my car, letting out a breath as I do so. The probability that it starts back up is slim. I check my face in the side-view mirror, grimacing at the bluish bruise on the apple of my cheek. No amount of concealer will cover it up. With shaky legs, I walk to the door and knock.

  There’s no reply.

  I knock harder, squinting through the blinds to see if there’s any movement. Still nothing.

  I groan. Just my luck. I finally grow balls to visit, and she’s not even here to see them. I turn around and look at my car. Yeah…I’m not getting back in that deathtrap.

  I try the knob and it gives. “Hello,” I call, listening to my echo. “Anyone home?”

  The front door opens to a staircase, separating the kitchen and living room. I take a look around, double-checking that I’m in the right house, and spot a couple of pictures of Justin and Lilly together. A noise sounds from upstairs.

  “Hello?” The stairs creak as I walk up them. “Yo, anyone home?”

  There’s a small landing at the top of the stairs, which leads to three different bedrooms. The door to my left leads to an office slash storage room, the master bedroom is positioned straight ahead, and they both come up empty. Shuffling comes from the room to my right. The door is slightly ajar, so I push it open.

  And I’m struck dumb at the sight before me.

  He has a body to die for. I lied when I said I didn’t want to die today. If dying meant I’d been killed while ogling this man’s naked flesh, I’d die every day over. He’s wet, fresh out of the shower, and toned everywhere. My eyes travel over his strong shoulders, his chest, abdominals, happy trail, down to what’s hanging between his legs. And it’s as if his dick already recognizes I’m in the room, already sporting a semi. It’s not until the towel lowers, uncovering the man’s face, that I scream.

  “What the fuck,” Kip roars, hurriedly covering his junk.

  Then I start laughing. Kip’s face morphs from rage to confusion to annoyance all in the span of three seconds, and it only adds to my hysterics.