by Sophia Gray
I left with those words rolling around in my head, getting all kinds of mixed up. The cabbie dropped me off at my place and I stumbled in through the front door. Thankfully, Cody was coloring in the living room and Jessie caught me before he did.
“What the hell?” she asked, but she only asked it once. Then she came over and gave me a big hug. “It’ll be okay. Go upstairs. Shower. Take a nap. I’ll stay for a while.”
I felt tears prick my eyes, more than a little grateful for my friend’s kindness.
# # #
Jessie stayed for dinner and a movie afterwards. She babied me through my hungover state and humored Cody who picked up on my not so pleasant mood. But, in all honesty, I was grateful when she went home.
I tucked Cody into bed, but after I kissed him on the forehead, I nearly cried.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
I bit my lip, then forced a smile. I shook my head. “Nothing, baby. Just go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“I love you,” he told me and I parroted it back to him.
Then I left. I took another shower, the third of the day, and slipped on a big, baggy nightshirt. It was heather gray and fell to my mid-thigh. Normally, I just slept like that, but I was weirded out after first my dream of Ethan, then our tryst that morning. So I pulled on a pair of boy briefs and crawled into bed.
I had hoped I’d fall asleep almost instantly after that. Head, pillow, sleep, just like that. But instead I found myself staring at the ceiling, wide awake.
Despite fighting against it, I couldn’t help but think of the devil’s bargain I’d made. It wasn’t my idea, it wasn’t what I’d wanted, but I didn’t have much say in the matter. I tried not to think of the way Ethan touched me, the way we did the deed under the watchful eye of his bodyguard. And I definitely tried not to think of how I’d had the most powerful orgasm I’d probably ever had in my life all because he’d pushed me to it.
Clenching my eyes shut, I tried counting sheep to fall asleep, and to keep from thinking of Ethan, but it was impossible. My mind kept circling back to him and his wicked deal.
“What kind of a person am I?” I whispered to the empty room. “What kind of a woman let’s someone—?” I broke off unable to say it even in the privacy of my own room.
I rolled over in my bed and tried to get comfortable, but it was pointless. There was no spot that would be comfortable enough. I thought of Cody asleep in his room. How was I supposed to be a good mother when I was some beck and call girl for a drug dealer?
It was worse than just that, though. I wasn’t just some prostitute, which was bad enough, but now I was going to be an accomplice for a man who was going to use my salon to store his drugs. God, I didn’t even know what kinds of drugs they were.
“What if it’s cocaine?” I asked the ceiling in a hoarse whisper.
I told myself it didn’t really matter. Drugs were drugs and even if it was just pounds of weed hanging out in the back of my store, it would be a problem. Weed wasn’t legal recreationally and I definitely didn’t have a license to be storing it. But at least I wouldn’t have to worry about people overdosing.
Overdosing. Jesus, why did I have to think of that?
I could be an accomplice to murder!
My heart started beating loud and hard in my chest, anxiety causing my body to warm and my palms to sweat. My skin felt like a live wire all of a sudden and it really hit me just how bad all of this was. I was going to be storing an illicit drug in my store that might or might not cause people—kids, even—to overdose. They could die. I could be partially responsible for the death of kids with brothers and sisters and mothers.
Pulling the covers up over my head, I clenched my eyes shut and tried not to hyperventilate. I told myself none of this was my fault. I’d done the right thing. If anything, I was a victim here.
Right?
Uncertain and feeling worse and worse about the whole thing, I counted sheep.
Sleep. All I needed was some goddamned sleep.
Chapter 9
The next week was a nightmare. I was haggling with the insurance company who didn’t want to cover any of the damage, citing it was my fault for not keeping the electrical wiring up to code. I had my hands full fighting them on it, providing as much official paperwork and photographs as I could get my hands on to prove my shop was up to legal standards.
Without the insurance money, I had exactly nothing to donate towards removing the debris from the convenience store. Not exactly great for business.
I pulled the curtain across the divider and cleaned up the register as best I could, but that was about all I could do for the moment. It would be okay for the summer—though I’d already had dozens of customers comment, gossip, and even walk out as a result—but come winter, things would have to change. Nobody wants to come into a freezing shop to get their hair done.
Thanks to the deal with Ethan, I also had an extra expense. I had to send Cody to a daycare after school because I didn’t want him around The Cut if it was going to have drugs on site.
What made matters worse was Louis. I’d received several shipments already that week—Ethan started bringing his stock in early Monday morning—and each time they’d come from Louis. Now it was Friday and he came in through the front door, not even batting an eye at the curtain pulled closed over the perfect line of charcoal in my floor. “I have a delivery,” he announced calmly. He was an unshakable man, which made me want to throttle him, but instead I sighed.
“Jessie? Could you take over for a minute?”
The lady whose hair I was handling, gave me a startled expression in the mirror she was facing. Jessie was working in The Cut now because I couldn’t bear to fire her, but she didn’t usually handle the stylist side of things. She was more of a phones, cashier, and sales girl. And when she came over, she had the same startled expression as the woman in the chair.
Leaning closer to me, Jessie asked, “Are you sure?”
I faked a bright smile at her, handing over a comb. “Of course. You’re just doing a little trimming. Split ends, nothing too sharp or short. You’ll be fine.”
No one looked comfortable with the situation, but I didn’t have a choice. I might normally let Jessie handle the shipments, but that was when they were legal. Now that I was dealing in whatever drugs Ethan sent my way, I couldn’t afford to let her do that. I wasn’t willing to put her in that kind of position. If she got caught with the drugs, not even knowing what was happening, I would feel awful. And wholly responsible.
So instead I was handing over a pair of scissors and a comb to someone who didn’t know all that much about styling hair. I was letting her cut this poor woman’s locks and everyone was just going to have to hope for the best.
When I turned to walk over to Louis, Jessie reached for me again. “We could just wait. I mean, this won’t take very long, will it?” She glanced at Louis, then back at me.
I closed my eyes for a half a second, then forced them open again. I would have told her yes normally, but there was nothing normal about my life anymore. And I knew Louis standing there likely meant more than just a delivery of drugs. “Actually, I may have to duck out for a bit and I know Mrs. Walsh can’t wait for me to get back.” I motioned towards the middle-aged woman in the chair. “I can’t afford for her to reschedule.”
Jessie frowned. “What is going on with you lately?” she asked, her voice hushed and her tone concerned. “You’ve been weird ever since the fire.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. I couldn’t exactly tell her what was going on, though part of me desperately wanted to. A shoulder to cry on, a sympathetic ear…but then maybe she wouldn’t be so sympathetic. What if she decided I was disgusting and no longer wanted anything to do with me?
Unwilling to risk either our personal or working relationship, I kept my mouth shut about it. Instead, I told her it was the fire and the insurance. “They’ve been dogging me. If I don’t get this stuff taken care of now, that
curtain’s going to be up straight through the winter.” I waved my hand at the offending thing. “And we both know neither of us can afford that. So, please, do this for me?”
She still looked uncomfortable, but eventually nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
When Jessie turned back to Mrs. Walsh, I let out a sigh of relief. I turned back to Louis to find him waiting patiently. A scowl on my face, I went over to him and snatched the clipboard. It was bogus, of course. No drug dealer with half a brain would have an inventory of their stash, but I still had to sign off on everything so it all looked kosher on the surface.
Briefly, I looked over the invoice, then glanced up at Louis to raise an eyebrow at him. “Bananas. Seriously?”
“Just sign it,” he told me flatly.
Gritting my teeth, I did as I was told, because what other option was there? After I handed back the clipboard, he turned and motioned towards some guys who had been waiting outside. They carried in crates and by the looks of them, they had bananas in them. I, of course, knew that beneath the top layer of bananas, there was some kind of illegal drug. Crate after crate was carried to the back of my store.
When the guys were finally done, I turned to Louis once more. Folding my arms across my chest, I fixed him with a cool stare. “Is that all?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
“No. The boss wants to see you. You’ve got a payment to make.”
Even as my skin crawled with disgust, I felt a flash of want. Desire was a tricky bitch, because no matter how much I tried to convince myself I didn’t want Ethan, my body continued to disagree. “Fine.”
Without another word, I walked out with Louis. He opened the door of his sleek black car for me, but nothing could make me feel better about where I was headed. The ride was silent, not even the radio on, and I was almost relieved when we arrived at the hotel where I’d meet Ethan. In the last week, he’d called in his little “payments” once a day, except for Sunday. I didn’t know or care what or who he was doing then. I was just grateful it wasn’t me.
Some days, I’d go to his office at the diner. We’d do it on his desk or standing up with me pressed against the window. Other days, he’d take me in the back of Louis’s car while Louis sat up front. And sometimes he’d set up a room at the hotel, his hotel, where he’d have his way with me for as long as he wanted.
My face fell a little at seeing the hotel today. It meant it would probably be a long session. As Louis opened the car door for me, I pulled out my cell to text Jessie. I’d have to let her know I’d be a while. Before I could even start a message to her, however, Louis snatched the phone from my hand.
“What the hell, Louis?” I demanded angrily.
He shoved the phone into his pocket and started walking towards the hotel. Over his shoulder he told me, “No calls. You know the deal.”
The deal, as Ethan put it, was Ethan fucked me for as long and hard as he wanted, then sent me back to work or home or wherever. And in exchange for this great service, I couldn’t tell anyone what was going on. Not that I was exactly eager to in the first place. The last thing I needed was people thinking I was a drug hoarding prostitute.
“I need to let Jessie know that I might be—”
“Not my problem.”
Gritting my teeth, I stomped angrily after Louis. We went in through the lobby. The man at the front, sitting behind the check in desk, nodded at us, but I made a point of keeping my head down. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was here.
Louis led me to the elevator and pressed a number. All the while, I sulked. Jessie was going to be worried and then she was going to ask questions. Like where the hell was I. Shooting daggers at Louis’s back, I thought of all the nasty things that might happen to him in his lifetime. Like baldness. Or losing his teeth. Maybe getting a really bad bout of dysentery.
Asshole, I thought.
“So, is today a spectator’s sport?” I asked him with as much venom as I could muster.
He just grunted.
The elevator pinged and the doors opened. I followed Louis as he led the way down the hall to a door. Using the key he already had on him, he opened it up and pushed right in. He closed it behind him then and stood with his back to it.
Ever the guard dog.
I stood in the middle of the room—which was admittedly nice, though it had lost its charm for me—and waited for what would come next. I didn’t have to wait long.
Ethan walked out of the bathroom, which billowed out steam behind him. His dark hair was wet, clinging to his shiny skin. His muscles were slick with the shower he had to have just taken and his skin was a healthy pink color that made him look younger than he was.
He clutched a towel in his hand, but there wasn’t one wrapped around his waist. Which meant his semi-hard cock was hanging free between his legs.
“Diana, good. I need a decent release.”
I shuddered and told myself it was from disgust.
When I just stood there, Ethan tossed his towel aside and waved a hand at my body. “Get to it already. I’m not interested in looking at you clothed.”
“If you’re only interested in looking, why not get a Playboy?” I asked him snidely.
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Haven’t you heard? Playboy’s all about the articles now.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Why don’t you just get yourself a girlfriend, then you won’t have to worry about all this…messiness.”
For just a second, his expression went blank and his body went stiff. He seemed to be lost somewhere else, caught up in a past life. When he came back, his tone was a little off as he answered, “Girlfriends are messy. This makes sense. Easy, clean, no strings.”
I snorted. “Maybe for you.”
“Exactly.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. The word pig lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I suppressed it. Although I felt sleazy every time after our little meetings, mostly they weren’t bad. At least, not violent. There had only been one exception thus far and that was when I’d called him some colorful names he hadn’t appreciated.
The memory made me want to recoil and hide. While he was rarely gentle, he had only been brutal with me once, grabbing me around the neck. I had made a point since then of avoiding anything that might bring that around again.
It hadn’t been like that again, but the message was clear—don’t call him names and do what he said.
That was why I kept my mouth shut as I began to undo the blouse I was wearing. It was a deep maroon color with three-quarter sleeves and buttons all the way down the front. Beneath it, I wore that same plain bra that I always wore because I’d be damned if I put anything nice on for Ethan. He could order me to do whatever, but I wouldn’t dress for him.
Ethan had grabbed his length in his large hand already and was stroking himself as he watched me undress. This wasn’t unusual. I was pretty sure he knew people watching me made me uncomfortable and he got off on it. What he didn’t know was that part of me was turned on by it, too.
I took off my dress and he hummed appreciatively. “That’s it. I love those tits.”
Ignoring him, I took off my pants next and then my shoes. After that, I waited. “Well?” I prompted him.
He gave himself another quick stroke, then came over to me. “Take off the bra,” he ordered. Sometimes he liked doing it himself and sometimes he liked watching. Seemed like he was in a watching mood today.
I reached around and unclasped my bra, then slid the straps over my shoulders until my breasts hung free. I felt my nipples begin to harden almost instantly and told myself it was because of the sudden cool air on them, but I knew that wasn’t really it. I was turned on. Whether it was the way Ethan was looking at me—wicked and hungry—or the way he was already rock hard, it didn’t matter. I hated that I was attracted to him.
His hands reached out and cupped my breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like they belonged to him. Which, at the moment, it felt like they did.
I fought
against the zap of pleasure that ran through my body at his touch, but it was hopeless. Already I could feel wetness begin to gather between my legs.
For a while, he played with them. He weighed them in his large palms, then squeezed them tight enough that it almost hurt. Then he’d grab my hardened nipples between his fingers and pinch, rolling and tugging on them. I worked hard to remain silent as he did all of this, just like I worked hard to pretend like Louis wasn’t watching the whole thing.
When Ethan finally tired of playing with my breasts, he moved on. His hands moved down to my ribcage, sliding lower along my waistline until they hit my hips. There they moved around to my backside and I felt him cup my rear. “You’ve got a nice ass, Diana, baby,” he told me thickly.
