The Second First Time

The Rebirth

“A private placement? You’re lucky.”

The voice of a lady filled the room.

“Jolene. Jolene.”

The strange voice pulled me out of my head.

There I was, I sat on a chair opposite a lady. She had black hair, brown freckles, golden yellow skin and her lips were covered with red lipsticks.

Madam Veronica.

“Yes.”

“Don’t do that again. You can’t zone out, you shouldn’t.” Madam Veronica queried.

My eyes scanned the surroundings.

Was it all a dream?

I couldn’t put my thoughts together but all I could remember was a man in a suit who stood before a gravestone.

The gravestone had my name engraved on it.

I could still see his face.

No matter how hard I tried to shake it, his face stayed with me.

An unsettling feeling gnawed at me, as though I’d left something behind.

Yet no matter how hard I searched my memory, the only thing I could recall was the mysterious man standing before the gravestone that was supposed to be mine.

“You’re one of the lucky ones. I sent your profile to a few clients after you signed with the agency last week, and one of our biggest clients personally chose you to be his private escort,” Madam Veronica’s smile widened with every word, her excitement made it seem as though she had just won the lottery.

“Well…that’s great news.” I said halfhearted.

I still couldn’t understand what was happening. An eerie sense of déjà vu settled over me, as though I had lived this exact moment before. I brushed the feeling aside, unwilling to dwell on something I couldn’t explain.

“You have your first meeting with him today. Are you nervous?”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Listen, I understand this is your first time but you have to do all he says, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to him since he’s the only one you’ll be working for.”

I nodded.

“Take this,” Madam Vero placed a card on the table. “It’s the address to the hotel you’re to meet him, the room number and entry details. Be at your best behavior.”

I nodded. “I’ll make you proud.”

A satisfied smile spread across Madam Veronica’s face at my response.

I stood up and left the room.

I took a cab.

Soon, I arrived at the hotel.

This was supposed to be my first time at this hotel but everything felt familiar.

I walked towards the receptionist and showed her the card Madam Veronica had given to me.

They glanced at me and the card at measured intervals as though they weren't sure if the card was truly mine or stolen.

They ushered me down to the elevator at the exclusive suite.

“Take this elevator, 8th floor, room 047.” The receptionist said with a warm smile on her face.

I nodded.

I walked into the elevator.

For some weird reason, unease settled deep in my chest.

My fingers refused to stay still, constantly twisting the hem of my blouse, while my heart pounded against my ribs as though trying to escape.

An inexplicable sense of dread washed over me.

My chest felt tight, and every instinct urged me to turn around and leave. I couldn’t explain it. I convinced myself it was only because it was my first time meeting a client.

The elevator stopped.

The door swung open, revealing an expansive hallway that stretched farther than the eye could see.

I walked down the hallway. My eyes tracing the numbers on each door.

“042, 043, 044, 045, 046..” I stopped. “047, this must be it.”

I stood outside.

My breath was uneven.

My hand hovered over the doorknob.

I couldn’t decide whether to knock, push the door open, or remain rooted to the spot until my trembling nerves calmed down

I unlocked the door with the key card.

I pushed the door. I walked in. The door closed behind me with a quiet thud.

The room was dimly lit, as though it had been designed that way on purpose. Maybe it was, maybe the man I was to meet liked it this way.

I took a slow look around the room. It was spacious, tastefully furnished, and immaculately neat. My feet carried me toward the soft bed in the center.

Amidst all this, I heard the door open and a young man step inside.

My gaze immediately locked with his.

In that moment, I felt the feeling of dread I had felt earlier resurface.

I recognized that man.

He was the man from my dream, he was the man who stood before the gravestone.

He was real.

His dark hair was hypnotizing, he had a cold expression, intimidating eyes and lips that looked like they were made for more than just existing.

He stood there.

A cold sweat rolled down my back.

He walked toward me. He took off his coat and placed it on the coat rack close to the door.

For every step he took toward me, I instinctively took one back until the backs of my knees hit the bed, sending me tumbling onto the mattress.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

I laid there quietly.

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat, refusing to come out.

“Take off your clothes.”

I threw my hands over my chest.

Fear was palpable in my eyes. “I need to leave. I should not be here.”

The strange man had a puzzled expression on his face.

He stared at me in disbelief as if I had spoken a language different from his.

He didn’t care.

He took off his shirt exposing his bare chest.

His broad shoulders and well-defined chest drew my attention first, but it was the ridges of his abs and the taper of his waist that held my gaze.

The sound of his belt being unbuckled seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the room. He pushed his jeans down and stepped out of them, leaving him in nothing but his underwear

His bulge left me feeling hot.

By the time he reached me, goosebumps prickled across my arms. My body betrayed me, responding instinctively to his presence in a way I’d never experienced before.

His arms slowly rested on my leg as he traced his way to my thigh.

Before I knew what I was doing, my palm struck his cheek. I leapt off the bed and retreated to the corner of the room, my eyes never leaving him as I struggled to steady my ragged breathing.

What have I done?