Chapter 4 The Gigolo Back Then

Maurice's POV:

"Please help me."

I looked down.

The drunken woman in my arms clutched my clothes tightly as if she was desperately holding on to a lifeline.

Her familiar face and scent sent me into a trance for a moment.

A few heartbeats later, a fat man came barreling into the room. "Get back to my room, woman!" he shouted at the woman in my arms.

I looked at him expressionlessly and said, "I don't think so."

"Fuck! How dare you take that bitch from me? Don't you know who I am?" the fat man bellowed, trembling like a leaf though. His plump face was red, I assumed, with intoxication and rage. "Give her back to me or you won't be able to walk out of this club!"

Wyatt, who was sitting on the sofa and drinking, burst into laughter.

"Well, Maurice, for the sake of your rare occurrence, let me assist you in having a good time with your lady," he said and rose from his seat. He walked to the door and winked at me on the way.

Then, he kicked out the fat man. After that, he gave me a thumbs up before slamming the door shut behind them.

The drunken woman and I were now the only ones in the room. I fixed my eyes on her. After hesitating for a while, I finally pulled her hand away.

But she wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her perfect body against mine. "I've seen that pair of eyes before..."

She bit her lip, and despite her being drunk, her eyes sparkled with recognition.

Something that had been buried in my memory gradually surfaced.

"It's you."

The charming face in my memory overlapped with the face of the drunken woman in my arms. I finally recognized her. She was the stranger I slept with five years ago.

She whimpered and buried her head into my neck.

I could feel her lips against my skin, arousing some primal desire from deep within my soul.

"Are you repeating the same trick?" I jeered.

She used the same move five years ago. Was she doing it again?

"I want to go home. Adrian and Aileen are waiting for me," she murmured in a low, strained voice. I could feel her grip slowly slipping, as if the alcohol was finally taking over.

With much work, she climbed back on her feet and braced her hands on my chest. "Wow. That feels good," she groaned.

She began to rub my chest with her hands, which I then stopped.

She raised her head and smiled at me. Her big round eyes were shining. "I know you."

I asked with a smile, "Do you? Then who am I?"

"You... You're a..."

"I'm a what?"

She lifted her beautiful red lips and blurted out, "A gigolo."

There was a rush of anger and confusion in my heart, but I suppressed it and said, "Oh? Well, would you like me to serve you tonight?"

I'd like to see how long this woman could pretend.

I held her in my arms once again.

This time, she struggled against my grip. The beginning of a scream left her throat.

But I blocked it by crashing my lips onto hers.

In the beginning, I just lightly moved my mouth against hers, but I slowly went deeper and harder. I kissed her passionately and crazily.

After a while, she grabbed my collar and pushed me away. She gasped, "Wait, wait."

I smiled down at her and waited for her to take back her gigolo comment.

I squinted and let go of her. I let her hold on to me as she tried to find her footing. I stared at her with burning eyes and asked, "What's wrong?"

"I... I don't have any money on me."

I almost clicked my tongue. She was still acting. I decided to continue playing with her.

I leaned in, licked her earlobe, and whispered, "I'll sleep with you for free tonight. How about that?"

The woman shivered but said nothing.

Slowly, I unbuttoned my shirt and attempted to kiss her again.

But she suddenly pushed me away.

"Oh, my God! It's you! That scar on your chest!" she exclaimed. I closed up my shirt and cocked my head to the side.

"What are you talking about?"

She said with hatred, "You are the gigolo from five years ago! Do you know how much you hurt me? You claimed to be top-level, but your service was horrible!"

What the hell was this woman playing at?

I squinted and asked, "My service was horrible?"

"Yes! I wanted to complain about you! You did a rotten job! You didn't even use a condom!"

I stared blankly at the drunken woman in front of me, and the fury in my heart grew stronger and stronger.

She not only accused me of being an escort. She also seriously loathed me, like I destroyed her life in some way.

I reached out to her, and my arms encircled her waist.

"Don't touch me!" The woman began to shove me away with all her strength. However, she was so weak that her resistance felt like soft caresses.

With two steps and a hand on the back of her neck, I was able to lock lips with her again.

She pounded my chest with her fists, but I didn't let go.

Her struggles failed, and I continued kissing her aggressively until her knees turned to jelly.

Finally, she passed out in my arms. I carried her and gently set her down on the sofa.

Then, I went out and closed the door.

A waiter who was passing by bowed to me respectfully.

I pointed to the private room and told him, "No one goes in this room but me, do you understand?"