Ravenous: The Kingsley Brothers Duet Read online

  Ravenous

  L.L. Collins

  Contents

  1. Raven

  2. Brecken

  3. Raven

  4. Brecken

  5. Raven

  6. Brecken

  7. Raven

  8. Brecken

  9. Raven

  10. Brecken

  11. Raven

  12. Raven

  13. Brecken

  14. Raven

  15. Brecken

  16. Raven

  17. Brecken

  18. Raven

  19. Brecken

  20. Raven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by L.L. Collins

  Playlist for Ravenous

  Copyright © 2017 by L.L. Collins

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Cassy Roop with Pink Ink Designs

  Editing by Kristen Switzer

  For my Family

  1

  Raven

  “I’m an escort.”

  A what? An escort? What the hell was that? Like…a prostitute? I opened and closed my mouth several times, but nothing came out. No. There was no way my best friend and roommate Emma could be talking about selling her body for money. I mean, we came from the wrong side of the tracks. We saw a lot of shit in our lives. But never, not ever, would I do that. I wasn’t a virgin; not by a long shot. I slept with my fair share of guys, starting at around fourteen years old. A shudder ran through me when I realized it was the same age as my little sister, Chrissy. But never, ever had I done it other than for pleasure. And I wouldn’t. Right or wrong, at the time it was for an escape. The indulgence made me forget for a while. Even if it was never with the right type of men or for the right reasons.

  Emma stood with her hands on her slender hips. “I see your wheels turning. Before you freak out, let me explain.”

  “You better explain fast because I’m about to freak the fuck out.” I paced back and forth in our small dorm room. “You’re selling your body?”

  “Well, yes, kind of. But not in the way you think.” Emma pulled me until we both sat again. She wore just her underwear, but it didn’t faze me. Emma was who she was, no qualms about it. “Okay, so I went to this club with Derrick the other night.”

  I already hated this story. Derrick was her “buddy,” you know, that kind. He was older, twenty-five and a prick of epic proportions, but she said the sex was out of this world so she kept him around. Well, she allowed him back every time he disappeared and then reappeared in her life. I secretly hoped he would take a long walk off a short pier, but I kept my mouth shut about that.

  “He has this friend that I met there who runs this escort service. At first, I thought she was one of his hookups, because the woman was seriously gorgeous. Tall, blonde, and blue eyes with the most killer body I’ve ever seen. Once she started talking, I thought she might be into me. Come to find out, she started talking about her business and said I was perfect for their clientele. Even Derrick agreed.”

  Of course, Derrick agreed. He probably uses their services.

  “What clientele would that be? People who pay for sex?”

  Emma laughed again like she told me she was working at the grocery store.

  “It’s not sex; it’s an escort.”

  Her lack of answers pissed me off. “You’re going to have to spell this out for me, Emma. I’m not following. You start talking about a new job and you’re wearing the sexiest lingerie I’ve seen, yet you say it’s not about sex?”

  “Men pay high dollar to have an attractive woman escort them to events, whether it be business or personal. You have to be sexy, young, and willing to pretend. If you choose to take things further, some clients pay even more for those services. But you’re never under any obligation, and if you choose not to be part of that, you aren’t.”

  Why is she so nonchalant about this? “So, it’s a high-dollar prostitute who gets taken to dinner and drinks first.” If she wasn’t serious, this could be almost comical—almost.

  Emma shrugged. “Well, I guess if you look at it like that. Even if you just escort them to whatever event it is, you get paid. Big bucks, Raves. Way more than you can even imagine. And Penny—that’s the lady who owns it—does rigorous background checks and contracts. She doesn’t mess around with her girls.”

  “And you’ve been doing this how long?”

  Emma smirked. “A week. I’ve already escorted two guys, and I made more money than I made in three weeks at any of my other jobs.”

  “Did you sleep with them?” I couldn’t believe she stood here talking about this. Or that I entertained the idea. I didn’t have to sleep with them, right?

  Right.

  “Only one because he was seriously hot. So, it was mutual, and no money was exchanged. The other client was a middle-aged man who needed to look good in front of business associates. It was super boring, but I got free dinner and drinks out of it, and a hell of a lot of cash.”

  When I didn’t respond, my head spinning with the possibility of getting Chrissy away from our mother and her drug-filled life much faster than my original timetable, Emma continued talking. I heard snippets about a business dinner and a charity event just before she rattled off something about a client renting her a dress worth several thousand dollars.

  I’d heard of escorts before but never realized there was much of a market for them. I always thought they were high-dollar prostitutes and never knew it didn’t have to be that way.

  I lifted my head and caught Emma’s eye. She leaned over and opened her dresser drawer. Lifting her underwear, she took out stacks of money. More money than I’d ever seen at one time. Money that could take care of my sister. I wondered why the hell she kept all that cash in here, when it could so easily be stolen, but I couldn’t make myself open my mouth and ask. My brain was in overdrive, considering the possibilities.

  “I’ll do it,” I blurted before I could talk myself out of it. I wouldn’t sleep with them. No way, no how. Not unless I wanted to, and never for money. I wouldn’t be that girl who was no better than her mother, because to me, giving a guy sex for money wasn’t any better than giving a guy sex for drugs.

  I would never be bought.

  Never.

  I rubbed my lips together, spreading the color evenly on my plump pout. Satisfied, I stood back from the mirror and appraised myself. My dark hair, perfectly styled, lay in waves down my back. Charcoal powder highlighted my chocolate eyes. My gaze scanned my formal dress, tight to my womanly curves and showing just enough skin to catch someone’s eye. I didn’t need help garnering attention, which was what made me so successful. I used what I was given to get me what I needed, and it worked.

  “This is totally not my scene. I don’t want to go. Have I said that yet?”

  Emma stepped into the room and her mouth hung open. “Hot damn, Raven! You look so amazing I may even do you.”

  I rolled my eyes and grabbed my clutch off the counter. I slid my lipstick inside it. “Are you working tonight?” I envied her in her cutoff denim shorts and tank top.

  She grinned. “I am.”

  “In that?”

  Emma shook her h
ead. “Nope. It’s what underneath that counts, right?”

  I laughed, and she joined in. “So true. Well, good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I’m the one who’ll need it.”

  “Raven.” Emma put her hands on my shoulders to stop my tirade. “You’re fucking beautiful. You’re getting paid to play dress-up and escort this guy to dinner where there will be amazing food and more than likely an open bar. He may even be attractive, and we already know he’s successful and has money. What are you complaining about?”

  I wasn’t sure, but it made me uneasy. It had been just about a week since Emma convinced me I would make a lot more money than I could imagine by joining her. After I immediately agreed, I’d spent the next two days sick to my stomach over what I had committed to. Especially after Emma didn’t come home that night or the next, having hooked up several times with her client. When she came back, however, glowing and with cash practically falling out of her purse, I knew I couldn’t refuse the offer. For my sister’s sake.

  I’d met with Penny three days after Emma and I talked, and Penny seemed immediately interested. She was right. The money I would make would keep my sister fed and clothed, and a roof over both of our heads. It was better than a measly retail job or waitressing, and would help me focus on college instead of working full time. It was a win-win. Penny confirmed I was never obligated to do anything I didn’t want to do. I would escort guys—usually middle-aged men—to events, where I would get wined and dined, and then my bank account padded. Penny vetted every man before she took them on as clients, and all of them knew intimacy was not assumed at the end of the date. If Penny heard any complaints from her girls, she refused to do business with him going forward. I told her to book me for as many events as possible and took a few weeks off from my menial retail job. Being a student, it was easy to feign too much studying for finals. I figured if the money was as good as Emma promised, I wouldn’t have to go back.

  Chrissy could be with me within a few months. I could enroll her in school before the new year started and make sure she lived her high school life free of the scum my mother brought around. As much as I wanted to just leave my mom high and dry, I knew I never would. I’d pay for her to keep living, but I wouldn’t feed her drug habit. Or allow Chrissy to be ruined by that life any longer. I knew our mother wouldn’t care if I took her, especially if I didn’t try to take the government aide that came with having her as a dependent. I didn’t care about that. I just wanted my sister.

  I sighed. “I know. I’m not sure what my problem is. I guess I’m just nervous.”

  I didn’t guess; I knew I was nervous. Penny bought me the sexiest lingerie I’d ever seen from Haute House. Whether I decided to “go the extra mile” or not, I had to look and feel the part, which started with what I wore underneath my clothes—according to Emma. The black, sequined, sexy dress and my dark makeup only served to accentuate my raven hair and eyes and the olive complexion of my skin.

  Tonight was my first date—a formal dinner with a well-known neurosurgeon in our community. His family was high society, not that I knew a single thing about that. He was the keynote speaker at a huge fundraiser for the hospital. In other words, it would be a room full of wealthy doctors and their wives, and I would play the good doctor’s steady girlfriend.

  And he wanted me, the newbie, out of all the escorts Penny had. When I asked her why, she simply said he took her word for it that I was up for the role. I guessed that meant something good, but all it did was make the pit in my stomach even bigger. The what ifs plagued my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder how I would handle him wanting more or not listening to the word no. But as quickly as that thought raced through my mind, I pondered wanting to go further with him and whether he’d throw me extra cash like a stripper if I did.

  What. If.

  So here I am. About to leave my dorm to meet a guy who drives a car worth more than all my college tuition combined. Per Penny’s rules, the girls’ personal addresses weren’t given out. If I chose to, I could go to his house or business, or we would meet at a neutral place, so I chose to meet at the hotel where the event was held. It was better to be able to leave when I wanted.

  My instructions were to pull into a parking garage on the north side and find a black Maserati with a personalized plate, DOC KING. It said a lot that I didn’t know what kind of car that was, and Emma looked it up for me after rolling her eyes at my ignorance. The personalized plate was enough to make me want to roll my eyes with her, but I tried to reserve judgment for when I met the man.

  Emma hugged me tightly, shaking me back to reality. “It’s going to be okay, Raves. Are you using your real name? I use my middle name,” Emma explained. “Just in case, you know? Jennifer is common, and it would be hard to find me on just that alone.”

  I nodded, forcing my throat to swallow past the giant lump of cotton that seemed to be lodged there. “I told Penny to use Janie, like my middle name.”

  My middle name was Jane. As in Mary Jane, another drug reference. Our mother never kept it a secret what we were named after. I was because of a rave she went to when she was just sixteen and got knocked up there. It just so happened that I was born with a full head of dark raven hair and my name was easily described that way instead of the truth. Chrissy’s name was Crystal—like the drug crystal meth, but we never used that name, for obvious reasons.

  “Janie.” Emma flipped my hair and smiled. “I like it. Sounds innocent and girl like, but is also better than being ‘Jane Doe.’”

  I took a deep breath and wondered how I got here and where I went wrong in my life.

  Oh, yeah. I was born to Jocelyn Phillips, and unfortunately for her, so was my sister.

  “I gotta go.” I grabbed my clutch and air kissed Emma.

  “You got this.” Emma returned my affection. “Call me if you’re going to stay over with him.”

  I frowned at her, my gut churning at the thought. “I’m not staying over. I’ll be back tonight.”

  She grinned. “You never know, Janie. Have fun, and whatever you do, be careful. Don’t do anything Emma wouldn’t do.” She wagged her eyebrows at me and I laughed, shutting the door before she could say anything else.

  I pulled my older-than-dirt, piece-of-shit car into the parking garage, my stomach churning violently. My hands shook as I turned the steering wheel, hoping the car didn’t choose now to die, right when I was about to meet “Doc Maserati.” I chewed my lip, a nervous habit since childhood.

  I forced myself to blow out a shaky breath. “Stop it, Raven. You’re fine. You’re surrounded by all these people—these professionals. Nothing is going to happen. Think of all the money Emma has already made. Nothing has happened to her. Stop overthinking this.”

  My heart crashed in my chest as my eyes scanned the full garage for the expensive car. I had no idea what to say when I saw him. I wondered if he would treat me like I was his property, or if he would lay it on thick in front of all his peers. I wondered if he would put his hand on the small of my back like a protective boyfriend, grab me by the arm like he owned me, or want nothing to do with touching me. I wasn’t sure which I hoped for.

  I stepped on the brakes the second I spotted the Maserati just down the aisle from where I currently was, the tires squeaking loudly in the quiet garage as the car groaned to a stop. My eyes scanned the perimeter around the vehicle, but I didn’t see him.

  My gaze fell on the digital clock on the dash. I wasn’t late. In fact, I was ten minutes early. There was no way he would stand me up. He paid Penny to get him someone to escort him tonight.

  And there was the other question I would die to have answered. I couldn’t figure out why a successful doctor couldn’t get his own date, or wasn’t already attached. Maybe he was a horrible womanizer. Or quite possibly he was married to the job. The latter being the most likely scenario. Doctors worked hundreds of hours a week and were so smart they didn’t know how to relate—yeah, right.

  He was more than likely maki
ng up for his horrible looks with the sports car, too.

  He probably had halitosis and terrible bedside manners—in more ways than one—and no one ever wanted to be seen with him, which was why he hired me.

  An open parking spot caught my eye a few spaces down from where he’d parked. It was inconspicuous enough to hide the kind of car I drove if he saw me get out. Maybe it was a good thing I was early—I could stand by his car, and he wouldn’t know which one I drove.

  Good plan, Raven.

  Janie. I had to train myself to act like and be Janie. I had to put Raven away and put on my new façade. Janie was confident, sexy, and always in control.

  I stepped out of the car and swung my gaze from side to side in search of my date. The parking garage was empty of people but full of cars, and my heels clicked ominously on the concrete. I smoothed my hand down the front of my dress and smacked my lips together. I reached the Maserati and noticed no one was inside. I leaned over and checked my hair and reflection in the mirror-like glass. The smooth brown leather appeared soft enough to sleep on, and the sleek dash had buttons and gauges I’d never seen in a car.

  I was so out of my league it wasn’t even funny. The good news was, I was a professional at pretending. I’d done it my entire life. Why stop now.

  2

  Brecken

  “Holy fucking shit.” My brother’s voice hissed through the Bluetooth speaker in my car.

  “What?” I swung my car into the parking garage of the swanky hotel where the benefit was held. I hated going to these events, but it was a family affair, thanks to Porter being Porter, and I wouldn’t let him down by skipping it. Even if it was the last place I wanted to be tonight.

  Porter was the pride and joy of our family. The one every woman wanted and every guy wanted to be. I was the one who “degraded” himself and the Kingsley name and went into teaching. Molding the minds of our youth. Or, in my parents’ eyes, a waste of my upper-class upbringing, high-dollar education, and military experience. I was “normal” and didn’t have the IQ of a genius who defied every boundary and crushed every normal timeline. My big brother by ten minutes, it might as well have been years. After skipping not one but two grades, the man graduated with his four-year college degree when I graduated high school and finished residency to become a neurosurgeon at the age of twenty-nine. If living in the shadow of Porter wasn’t enough to make a brother feel inferior, feeling like the stupid one sure was.