CAT HAUS ~ The Complete Story
Working in a cathouse was always interesting, but especially after he walked through the door. Then, everything changed…
I’m Cate. Two years ago I was a student at UNLV. Today, I’m a legal prostitute in the state of Nevada, and I was happy with that, until John. He’s a billionaire, I’m a hooker, and things are far from simple. How’s it all going to work out? You’ll have to read to find out. Cat Haus is our story.
CAT HAUS EXCERPT (Cate’s point of view)
I rang the bell on the thick wooden doorframe. A doorbell—on a hotel room door. So this was what penthouse living was like. It still wasn’t worth that hell ride in the elevator, in my opinion.
Seconds turned into what felt close to a minute and I started to wonder if I’d taken too long to get here and this guy had gone to sleep. Or more likely, Gus had fucked up and gotten the wrong night or the wrong hotel. I pushed the bell one more time, feeling horrible that I was disturbing whoever was inside at this hour. If Gus had gotten the information wrong, a whole family could be staying here for all I knew. Kids could be sleeping inside. But then I remembered I’d stopped at the front desk, and they’d directed me to this elevator, even had a bell boy unlock it for me, and all I’d said was Gus Haus sent me.
I heard the lock turn as I was about to pull out my cell phone and try to explain to Gus that if he didn’t fuck up, I had by taking so long, and this guy was already sleeping, or possibly passed out drunk inside.
The door swung wide and a vision of one hell of a good looking man stood before me. Cleaner cut than I usually liked—I always did gravitate toward the long haired rocker or biker type dudes—but hella attractive, nonetheless. He had on dark trousers with black cowboy boots, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned enough I got a nice view of a pretty muscular chest.
“Hi. Gus sent me.” My password for the night seemed to surprise him.
One dark brow rose above eyes the color of the deep blue sea. “Gus?”
“Gus Haus. Fat, older guy. Smokes cigars. Owns a whorehouse. Lost me tonight in a poker game against you, apparently.” I guess I could have put all that a bit more professionally, but I was enjoying seeing the various expressions cross the face of my hottie in business attire.
“You’re one of Gus’s girls?”
“I am. Cate. Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand and he took long enough to reciprocate that I began to wonder if he would. Right along with wondering if I’d spend the night out here in the hallway. Although, it was a really nice hall. “Did you want me to come in?”
The question seemed to knock Hottie McHotster out of his stupor. He took a step back. “Uh, yeah. Come on in.”
Maybe I’d woken him. That would explain the confusion, and why his hair looked all tousled and sexy, as if someone had run their hands through it. Just looking at him sure made me want to run my hands through it. I’d rather die than tell Gus this, but after meeting this man I was looking forward to this job.
I decided to make nice and make sure he enjoyed my company as much as I anticipated enjoying his. After all, I was an ambassador for Gus’s Cat Haus. “I’m sorry I took so long getting here. I know it’s late. You were probably about to go to sleep.”
“It’s all right. I was up working.” He tipped his head toward the cavernous space behind him where I could only assume he’d been working on some enterprise or another.
“Good. I would hate to think I’d woken you.”
His gaze dropped down my body, spending quite a bit of time on my suit.
Yeah, I’d worn a suit to a “private party”. I’d paid a fortune for the summer-weight, off-white pants and jacket and I hardly ever got to wear the damn thing. Gus said to dress classy. I dressed classy.
“I’m sorry. It’s just—you’re not what I was expecting.” He shook his head, looking baffled. “Just to clarify, you, uh, um—”
Since he couldn’t seem to get the words out, I decided to help him. “Have sex for a living?”
One brow rose again. “Yes. That.”
BEFORE CATE ~ John’s Story
I thought my life was over, and then I met her . . . and wouldn’t you know it, she’s a hooker.
I figure it’s fate paying me back for every bad thing I’ve ever done, because a prostitute has to be the most inappropriate match a man in my position can make. Still, I can’t stay away.
One taste and Cate had a grip on me like some illicit drug. I know it’s bad, but it feels so good. She’s a hallucinogenic. She makes me believe it doesn’t matter who she is, what she is, as long as she’s mine, and I know I won’t be able to rest until she is. Mine.
BEFORE CATE EXCERPT (John’s point of view)
I opened my door to the sounds of Steven Tyler screeching from my stereo speakers. Brady really was having a flashback to our youth. I made my way to the kitchen and saw him popping open a beer.
“Hey, there. Here you go.” He thrust the bottle at me.
I took the bottle, but was still suspicious. “What’s up with you tonight?”
“Remember our first year of college together?”
“Yeah.” I’d hit it right on the head. This strangeness was nostalgia driven.
“Two guys out to take on the world. Screwing any woman who’d let us. Drinking anything that would get us drunk. Every damn night.” When Brady put it that way, I realized it was a miracle either of us had graduated.
Though things started to change our sophomore year when Laurel started college. It wasn’t too long after that I was dating her. Then the partying stopped and I settled into the life of a man in a relationship, and that never changed.
I had a feeling that was the point of this conversation. “All right, Brady. I get it.”
“Get what?” His innocent act needed some work.
“I’m still acting like I’m married.” I waited for him to say something but he didn’t.
Damn him. Brady was a master negotiator. He was using the same tricks on me he used on clients to close the deal. Leave a long enough pause and the other person would feel uncomfortable enough to fill it.
And, fuck it all, it was working. “I was with someone last night.”
“Hallelujah. About fucking time.” He raised his bottle to me in a toast.
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my beer. I needed it. After a few big gulps, I put the bottle down and pulled off my tie, unfastening the top buttons of my shirt.
“She a local or a tourist?”
“You going to see her again?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I noticed that nowhere in my answers to Brady’s rapid-fire questions did I mention the most glaring detail about Cate. The fact she was a prostitute. I wandered to the pizza box and grabbed a slice, leaning against the counter as I took my first bite. Damn, it tasted good.
“Mario’s?” I asked.
“You know it. Best in town.” Brady’s eyes remained on me. “I think you should.”
“See her again.”
“Oh, do you?” I laughed. “And why is that?
“I haven’t seen you this relaxed in—forever. I swear. Maybe back in the old days, but not in recent memory.”
“And you think that’s her doing, after one night? That must be one magic pussy she’s got.”
Brady’s laughed. “And now you’re even talking like the old you. Man, it is good to have the old John back. Hell, you should marry this girl.”
If Brady only knew the complete truth. I shook my head. “I’m not looking to get married again.”
Things hadn’t worked out so great the last time. I wasn’t about to subject another woman to that life. Waiting for me to come home late every night, stressed and exhausted. Having to make a frigging appointment with me just to tell me she’s pregnant. I sucked as a husband.