The Problem Client Read online

  The Problem Client

  Men of Café Seuil

  KP Maxwell

  Bronze Owl Press

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

  Copyright © 2019 by KP Maxwell

  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.

  Cover designed by KP Maxwell

  Published by Bronze Owl Press

  First Edition

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Epilogue

  Book 2: The Fake Boyfriend

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Damien is waiting for his favorite client.

  The room appears to belong straight out of a high-end hotel with lavish furnishings to match. Damien is lounging on a lush king-sized bed with overstuffed pillows and gloriously decadent sheets. There’s a full bar and an entertainment area with a flat screen TV and a leather couch off to one side. A door nearby leads to a spa-like en suite bathroom. A final door that looks much like any other hotel room door leads out into a hallway, but it doesn’t connect to a hotel at all. Instead, it leads to a shared living space above a café, where Damien also works during the day.

  Although that door appears to be the only entrance or exit to this room, there’s also a blank wall near the bar where another door will appear at any moment, right out of thin air. Magic.

  Damien’s worked here for several years now, and he still feels a little thrill of excitement when the door finally appears. Especially on the nights that he has this particular client.

  He’s watching the wall now, with nothing to do but wait. He’s already prepared himself, and he’s stretched out on the bed in red silk boxers and nothing else, just the way his client likes it. He runs a hand through his light brown hair. He tries to make sure it’s soft on nights like this, since this client likes to grab it.

  The door appears in between one blink of his eyes and another. He sits up eagerly.

  With some clients, there’s a slight delay. Perhaps they make their way to the location that the door will open and get held up by something. Perhaps they have to work up the nerve to open it. But with this client, the handle always turns immediately after the door appears.

  The man that walks through is broad, muscular, solidly built. A complete contrast to Damien’s own tall, lithe body. His mouth is set in a half-frown like he’s just finished up with some annoying discussion. He’s wearing dark-wash jeans that fit his gorgeous legs like they were custom made. The sleeves of his button-up shirt are pushed up, and the top button is unbuttoned. Damien wants to unbutton all of the rest of them, and he licks his lips, thinking of all of the past times that he has.

  Damien’s been seeing this client regularly for months now, nearly every week on Thursdays, and he’s never learned the client’s name. Even so, he enjoys their sessions together immensely.

  The man’s in a bad mood tonight, though, perhaps worse than others. His glare softens a bit when he sees Damien, but he stalks over to the bed, already untucking his shirt with aggressive movements.

  “Let me,” Damien says silkily, reaching up to help unbutton the buttons, but the man knocks his hands away.

  “No,” comes the gruff reply, the man’s dark grey eyes flashing with something unreadable.

  Damien arches an eyebrow. So it’s going to be that kind of night, is it? He leans back to watch the show as his client removes his shirt and undershirt, tossing them aside.

  The past few sessions with this client have become steadily more intense, and Damien can’t pinpoint why exactly. Perhaps it has something to do with Damien’s own hesitance to stop seeing this client, even though he’s stopped seeing the others.

  This client is his last client. His… problem client, so to speak.

  The man moves back to the side of the bed, and Damien swings his legs over the edge, pulling the man closer by his hips, nuzzling against the broad chest in front of him. The man inhales deeply as if the action calms him somewhat but it’s not too long before he’s grabbing Damien by his hair, tilting Damien’s head back so Damien meets his eyes.

  “How many others do you see?” The man asks, and the words are nearly a growl.

  And this is part of the problem. This client has grown increasingly possessive of Damien over the time that they’ve seen each other. Clients don’t ask about other clients, though. It’s one of the rules here. One of the many rules that his favorite client likes to break on a regular basis.

  Damien smiles coyly, eyes darting to the side to avoid the dark grey eyes staring back at him.

  “A few,” he lies, and the man’s grip tightens in his hair. Damien purrs with delight. Even though he’s stopped seeing the others, he’s kept up the fiction of it. There’s no point in telling the truth. Especially not when the lie gets him this sort of reaction. He has to admit that he enjoys this sort of behavior. Perhaps, even encourages it. Damien may be breaking several rules of his own with this client.

  The man lets go of his hair with a curse, breathing heavily now. Damien knows this client won’t actually hurt him. This is the game that they play together, and Damien is a very willing participant. If he wasn’t, he would need only to say the word, and the owner of the café would never let the man return. The mysterious door would never appear for him again. The owner created the door, and the door only opens for those who are approved by her.

  “On your back,” the man says, apparently giving up his earlier line of questioning. Damien stretches languidly, taking his time as he leans backwards.

  “So commanding,” he teases, just to get a rise out of the man. The man’s dark eyes flash again, but he says nothing further.

  Damien slides the boxers down his thin hips, pleased at the way the man’s eyes travel along his body. Damien is a professional, after all.

  “I’m already prepared for you,” Damien says, half-pouting. “I spent so much time getting ready. And here you are accusing me.” He’s really laying it on thick tonight, but he wants to see how far he can push this client. Perhaps he will finally break, and wouldn’t that be interesting?

  The man is on him then, one arm braced next to Damien on the bed, and the other pushing Damien’s legs open even further to a nearly painful stretch. The rough material of the man’s jeans rub against Damien’s thighs in a delicious manner.

  “It’s not an accusation,” the man growls, and he buries his face in Damien’s neck, inhaling deeply again.

  “Such an animal,” Damien breathes, but it’s half-hearted at best. The man bites at his neck, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to get the blood singing in Damien�
��s veins. Ah, this is why he keeps this client around. This is why he looks forward to this day, every week. His other clients in the past were usually enjoyable, but this client is special.

  The client wraps his hand around Damien’s cock, running his thumb across the head. Damien knows it’s already wet, and he’s straining against the man’s palm. He turns his head to the side, biting back a moan.

  “You want it,” the man whispers, sure of himself now, but Damien refuses to give in just yet.

  “Hmmm,” he says, and it’s calculated, again, to push the man’s buttons. The client growls again, and Damien has to suppress a grin. Damien plans on pushing all of the buttons tonight, and Damien always gets what he wants.

  Chapter Two

  “You look happy,” Liam says. He’s wiping down the front of a display case full of pastries next to the register in the café. Damien’s sitting at one of the tables in the front part of the café under the pretext of eating a croissant and enjoying a morning cappuccino, but really he’s been daydreaming about the client he had the previous night. The client he has every Thursday night. His problem client.

  After nearly half a year of seeing the man, Damien still wants to know his name, but if the client doesn’t want to give his name to the host, he’s not required to. Damien feels his face flush at being caught daydreaming. He’d like to figure out the man’s name before quitting client work all together, at the very least.

  Liam’s still looking at him curiously, though, so Damien merely shrugs, looking out the window. “It’s a beautiful day,” he says, and he’s not lying. It’s that sort of crisp winter day in Portland, Oregon, with a bright grey sky, the sun still hidden away until the spring. Damien likes these sorts of days.

  “That it is!” Liam nods happily at him in agreement and finishes wiping the display case down with a dramatic flourish of the cloth.

  Liam O’Connell works as a barista in the café. He’s quite petite, with huge blue eyes and a mop of messy brown hair. He looks terribly innocent, but Damien knows he has a wicked streak. He’s highly requested among repeat clients.

  The café is located in a trendy part of Southeast Portland on the bottom of a fairly unassuming three-story building. The name of the café – Café Seuil – is some play on the French word for threshold that the owner of the café finds amusing. Melanie Selinofoto runs the café as well as the other business that works out of the second floor of the building. She owns the entire building and lives on the third floor, where there are also some empty studio apartments along with her own residence. She’s the one who creates the mysterious doors that appear and disappear, bringing clients into the hosting rooms from locations all around Portland.

  The café, of course, is mostly a front. They do have a professionally trained pastry chef, Sebastian Lindberg, who makes delicious food for the café, but he also entertains clients several evenings each week. He is a gorgeous natural blonde, thin and even taller than Damien, and generally insufferable. Damien only talks to him to irritate him. Which, if he’s honest, is actually fairly often.

  Damien eats the last bite of his croissant. Chocolate-filled of course, because who can’t resist chocolate for breakfast? He’s about to finish off his cappuccino as well, when Melanie comes into the café from the side door that leads into a lounge area.

  “Morning, Melanie!” Liam calls out to her cheerfully. “What can I get you?”

  “Just some black coffee to-go,” she says. “I actually wanted to talk to all three of you, but I’ve got to run out for a bit so I’ll catch up with Sebastian later.”

  Liam pours the coffee into a to-go cup for her. Melanie looks perpetually in her early thirties with long, dark wavy hair and dark eyes, but Damien thinks she’s probably a lot older. In a paranormal sort of way. She is a witch, after all. Or something like that. He teases her about it sometimes when she’s in a good mood. She accepts the coffee gratefully.

  “We’ve got new ones coming in tomorrow,” she says, and Damien’s attention perks up at that.

  “New clients?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

  “New hosts,” she clarifies, with a mysterious smile. “Some familiar faces actually.”

  And now Damien’s really interested. Ever since Damien started cutting down on his own clients, Melanie’s been looking for a new host, and two would be even better.

  Another customer enters the shop though, so she just winks at him. “I’ll fill you in on the details later when I can catch Sebastian, too,” she says, on her way out, and she smiles politely to the customer as she leaves.

  Liam does his best to look professional as he makes a peppermint mocha latte for the customer, but Damien can tell that he’s buzzing with excitement about the possibility of not one, but two new hosts joining them. Damien toys with his empty cappuccino cup as Liam chats about the special winter drinks menu with the customer. It’s an easy, familiar topic for idle conversation as he pulls the espresso. It’s late January, so people are finished with the holiday craze, but it’s still quite cold in Portland at this time of year, and so the winter drinks are still just as popular as they were a month ago.

  Damien’s glad to see this customer make her way into the lounge area with her drink, and he brings his empty cup and plate up to the counter.

  “We do need some more help in here,” Damien says, continuing Melanie’s conversation from before, and Liam nods, eyes bright with excitement.

  “Do you think it’s them?” Liam asks in an exaggerated whisper. He’s obviously referring to the threesome clients, a topic that he won’t stop talking about.

  Two friends somehow found themselves walking through one of Melanie’s doors right into Damien’s room about a month ago, before he stopped taking new clients. This was unusual on several levels, the first of which being that Damien’s pretty sure that none of the other hosts had ever had multiple clients at one time before.

  The two clients were initially confused but warmed up really quickly to the situation, and Damien had a lot of fun with them. But then, in an even stranger turn of events, they showed up in Sebastian’s room last week. Unannounced. Sebastian only mentioned it out of surprise, and after comparing notes, Damien determined that it was definitely the same two clients. Sebastian would not share details on how the session went, but Damien can imagine based on his own experiences. Hot.

  Liam’s been jealous ever since, though, hoping they’ll show up at his door next since he’s the only one out of the three men who live at the café who hasn’t met them. Damien can’t blame him. It was a very enjoyable experience.

  “They’re clients, Liam, it would be surprising…” he says, trailing off, but he has to wonder if and when they’ll show up again.

  The bell chimes as another customer enters the shop, so Damien gestures with his empty cappuccino cup and grabs his plate as well. “I’ll take some of the dishes back,” he says, and he leaves the counter to give the customer room to look at the pastry display.

  He gathers up all of the dishes behind the counter in the bin and carries them back through the door to the kitchen area. Sebastian is working on a fresh batch of something and the room’s hot with the temperature of the ovens going. The tall, blonde man nods at Damien but says nothing as Damien makes his way over to the sink area, setting the dishes down and starting the process of washing his hands. Sebastian doesn’t usually talk to either one of them that much, unless it’s a snarky comment.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Damien says, out of the blue, and the pastry chef’s eyes dart over to him, but he remains silent.

  Damien sighs. It’s not that he really wants to have a conversation with Sebastian, but he really hates the tedium of doing the dishes and hopes desperately that one of the people Melanie’s hiring is going to take over some of the kitchen duties.

  “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed!” he says cheerfully and gets started on washing the dishes. When Sebastian doesn’t respond to that, he tries one last tactic.

&nb
sp; “Melanie’s hiring two more hosts,” he adds, in a casual tone, and finally, Sebastian makes a sound of interest.

  “Oh?” Sebastian asks, and Damien looks back to see a curious look on Sebastian’s face.

  “Liam’s hoping it’s those two guys you had last week,” Damien continues, and Sebastian nods, but turns back to his work. Damien was hoping to get a little more out of him than that, but he’s not a very conversational type. Damien’s ready to give up on it and finish the dishes in silence, but after a few moments, Sebastian speaks up again.

  “How’s your client?” Sebastian asks, something amused in his tone. And this is the problem with Sebastian. He’s quiet, but he’s also incredibly astute.

  Damien’s face feels hot all of a sudden, and he can’t blame it on the heat of the ovens. Of course. Sebastian would ask about that. There’s only one client that Damien has left. His problem client. He hasn’t seen any others for a few weeks now.

  He’s glad he has the excuse of looking down at the sink, so he doesn’t have to look back and meet Sebastian’s eyes again. He doesn’t want to see the sort of look that’s probably there. Amusement? Pity? Damien can only imagine.

  It’s no secret that Damien may harbor a crush on this particular client, which might be part of the reason why it’s so difficult to let him go. Sebastian teases him about it whenever he gets a chance, and even Melanie’s given him a soft warning a time or two in the recent weeks.

  Melanie’s comments are along the lines of, “It can’t end well.” And Damien knows this is true, but ultimately he also knows that he’s too stubborn to listen. If he could just learn the man’s name, perhaps he could get the man out of his head…