Duplicity

by Kristina M Sanchez

  Kristina M. Sanchez

  This book is a work of fiction. All of the names, characters, places, and events in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright © 2013 by Kristina M. Sanchez

  All rights reserved.

  Cover image © Estelle Simon - Fotolia.com

  For Melly. I would never be where I am today if you hadn’t been there to push. I love you.

  Chapter 1

  It was obvious this kid had never been in place like this, or at the very least it was still new enough that he was nervous. It was almost endearing, the way he glanced around like he was about to get caught any second by his parents . . . or his priest. That was what Lilith looked for. The guilt was a sign they still had a conscience to go along with their deep wallets.

  Not targeting the cocky assholes for a private dance was a lesson most of the girls didn’t need to be told twice. Those men were the type who not only believed they owned the world but thought they owned all the people in it. They were a dangerous breed who didn’t value life in general and people like Lilith even less. Most the men who came to the club were civilized—somewhat entitled, but civilized. Still, Lilith was always careful. All it would take was running into one prick who thought of her as expendable instead of human. With one of that variety, she was as likely to end up beaten as anything.

  But this boy wouldn’t do that.

  “Spotted your prize for the evening, Lilith?”

  Lilith glanced over her shoulder to find her boss’s eyes not on her but on her quarry. Smith Regan ran the club and kept his girls in a wide array of scanty clothing.

  His lips quirked up in a sly, Cheshire-cat grin. “Yes, I see.” He tapped a finger against his lips. “He’s quite handsome.”

  Lilith’s scoff spoke for her. What the fuck does that matter?

  Smith liked to pretend he was some romantic—like the women in his employ didn’t trade their bodies for money. Like everyone there was just looking for the love of their lives. He saw himself as some kind of purveyor of high-class goods. He was so genteel, he didn’t let the men and women in his employ curse.

  But Lilith had to admit he was right. The boy was handsome. There was a nice cut to his features and just the right amount of stubble over his jaw to make him look casual and not sloppy. Sandy hair that looked as though she had already gotten what she wanted from him. He wasn’t a man anyone in their right mind would kick out of bed. Then again, the point of Lilith’s game was to get him into bed.

  This was the aim of Smith’s little club. It was a casual place, not like a strip club where one might expect girls getting naked to a sexy tune. There was a stage, but no set show times. For the most part, the girls mingled, talking to the men who came in until they got a feel for what they wanted most. There was the usual gyrating and stripping, but if these men were so inclined, there was also a hidden menu.

  “Good hunting,” Smith said, smacking her ass as he went to do whatever the fuck it was he did while his people were making him money.

  “Hey, Gin,” Lilith called to one of the other girls. Big-titted, blue-eyed, improbably blond-haired Ginger Morgan sauntered over. Her blue eye shadow sparkled, and she wore her hair in pigtails. Innocent this girl was not, but the boys liked her angelic act. “Gotta mark on the last table. Join me?”

  “Sure!” Her voice was all perk and sunshine—ever the cutie. There was a practiced prance to her step as she moved to Lilith’s side, and together they went out on the stage. They were both wearing ultra-short plaid skirts and button down white shirts. Two little girls from school are we.

  The sandy-haired kid was sitting at the center of the little crew he’d come in with. They were all pounding him on the back. Perfect. If this was some sort of celebration for him, it would be all the easier. Lilith plopped herself down on the edge of the stage just in front of him, legs spread wide because up-skirt never got old. Ginger came to kneel behind her, playing with Lilith’s long, dark hair.

  The smile on Lilith’s face almost faltered when she realized that rather than looking at her crotch as was expected—and usual—the kid was staring right at her face. Fuck, that wasn’t normal. Maybe he wasn’t going to be as easy as all that.

  Lilith put one hand down on the stage, leaning to the side to show off her profile. She put on a coy look and steeled herself. If he didn’t like what he saw, so be it. Maybe she wasn’t his type. Either way, it didn’t matter. She was going to change his mind, if only for tonight.

  Running the edge of her ridiculously high heeled shoe along his arm, Lilith let a sweet smile spread across her face. Ginger’s hands were on her shoulders rubbing and teasing a slow trail down the front of her blouse. “Hey there, sweetie. How ya doin’ tonight?” The bubble-gum sweet words burned like acid in Lilith’s throat, but as luck would have it, she’d mastered her gag reflex eons before.

  The boy swallowed hard, and his friends laughed. One of the big, beefy guys, who was, up close, not at all bad looking himself, clapped the kid on the shoulder. “It’s my baby brother’s twenty-first!”

  Matching brown eyes, Lilith noted. Of course they were related.

  Leaning backward, Lilith found a comfortable headrest on Ginger’s more than ample cleavage. She let out a little moan—the kind that slipped out when one tasted the sweetest chocolate. “Happy birthday, tiger.”

  Ginger rested her head against Lilith’s and giggled in her ear. “Lily’s got some presents you can unwrap,” she said. She giggled as her hands drifted down to cup Lilith’s breasts.

  The kid’s lips quirked. “Your name is Lily.” His triumphant tone made it sound as though this was a revelation he’d been eager for.

  “I can be whoever you need me to be, baby brother.” She trailed her foot down his middle. He glanced down, watching the tip of her high heel graze his shirt, and then looked back up at her . . . amused? Well, that was a switch-up from her first assessment. He wasn’t blushing anymore. In fact, as he continued to look straight into her eyes, he looked anything but nervous.

  What is this fucking prick playing at?

  Holding her temper was not a talent Lilith possessed. It was lucky the kid’s brother laughed and stood. He pressed his back against the stage so he was looking at her over his shoulder. He leaned back, craning until his mouth was close to Lilith’s ear. “My brother needs to relax a bit. All he does is study.” As he spoke his hand snaked along the waistband of her skirt, and Lilith felt the familiar crispness of rolled up dollar bills tucked against her skin. “Maybe you could give him a more private dance?”

  ~0~

  Big Brother ponied up enough for a little bit of hands on fun. Maybe there was enough for a little teasing with her tongue flicking against his cock, and he could come on her tits. They always liked that. She supposed it was because it was tawdry.

  But when they got to the private room, the boy leaned up against the door instead of flying into the comfortable chair that was set aside for him. Lilith raised an eyebrow, half of her mouth lifting as she looked on him. “You’re not nervous, are you?”

  His laugh was light, but Lilith, skilled as she was at reading people, could hear the slight shake in the sound. “No.”

  Lilith took a slow step in his direction, raking her eyes over him. “Well, come on in and sit down, stud. Then we can have some fun.”

  He cocked his head, his gaze curious as he looked on her. “Is it fun for you?”

  That stopped her forward motion. Her grin faltered, and she blinked at him.

  “It just seem
s odd. You don’t even know my name.” His lips crinkled in what seemed like amusement. “And I don’t even know if Lily is your real name.”

  Oh, so that was his game. He wanted to play the flirt. Lilith resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she put on a slow, devilish smile. “My full name is Lilith.” She waggled her eyebrows at him, remembering a conversation from one of her favorite books. “If I was going to make one up I’d use Cherry Daiquiri.”

  His eyes lit in recognition. “But blonds are more likely to get skin cancer.”

  Lilith started, surprised that he knew the Choke reference. “Nice, kid.” She gifted him with an impressed smile she didn’t have to fake for once. “So what is your name?” she asked as she slid down to her knees in front of him.

  “T—um . . . shit.” He stumbled over his words as she began rubbing him through his jeans. She smirked to herself. Men were easy once their cocks were out. “I’m Trey.”

  “Well, happy birthday, Trey.” She grinned up at him from underneath her eyelashes as she undid his button and yanked down his jeans. It wasn’t long before the wordy college kid was only making guttural sounds as he threw his head back against the door. And as she worked him over with firm hands, flicking her tongue against his cock once every minute or so, she also spoke in a quiet, sultry tone, planting the seed in his mind of the many other pleasures that awaited him for just a little bit more than his brother had offered up.

  She almost stopped talking when she felt his hand in her hair. For a moment, Lilith waited for the inevitable hard grip, but it never came. Instead, he caressed her, his fingers playing along the edges of her ear as she brought him to the height of his pleasure.

  But no sooner had he caught his breath then he was talking again, asking too many questions, and Lilith didn’t understand why he cared.

  “Do you enjoy it? Is there any pleasure at all for you?”

  “I like you, and you like me. What else is there to know?” She tried to distract him with the way she leaned, her legs out, spreading, hinting at more.

  “So you do enjoy it then?”

  He was harder to read than he should have been. His hands on her waist and the way his eyes raked over her body made her think she’d won. He wanted more, but his questions hinted that he wanted something from her that had nothing to do with physical pleasure.

  “What do you want to do here, kid?” she asked in exasperation. “Save me? Bring me to God? Convince me to give up my wicked ways and come live with you in your fancy world?” It wouldn’t have been the first time it happened.

  His smile was sheepish and a little shy. “No”

  “Then what?” Her time was money and there were other marks to be had if he’d had gotten all he wanted for the evening.

  Rather than speak, Trey brought out a large bill.

  Lilith looked at it without touching it and then back up at him. “That’ll get you a decent blow job.”

  He screwed up his lips at one side of his face and held up his other hand, fanning out nine more bills.

  “Well . . . now we’re talking.”

  ~0~

  They left Big Brother and his friends to be entertained by the other girls. The most Lilith was expecting was a fancy hotel room. She had to hide her surprise when he took her home.

  Trey’s home was a ginormous apartment within easy walking distance of campus. When they got inside, despite the fact she’d already had his cock in her hands, some of that previous, shy demeanor had made a reappearance. He tried to make small talk. She laughed, slipping her hand in his. “You’re not paying me for chit-chat.”

  He took her hand, leading her to his room, and again Lilith was surprised. He had to know he could have her anywhere, in any position he cared to take her. Even then, he only sat on the bed beside her.

  Then he asked the inevitable question, the one she’d expected and was always prepared for. “What made you do this with your life?”

  This was the reason Lilith had targeted the kid. Experience had taught her that his conscience sought a way to soothe his guilt over what he was doing. The sadder the story she spun, the more likely he was to come back. She never knew what they told themselves—maybe that she was enjoying herself and that was worth something, or maybe that they were saving her in some way. All she knew was a little bit of sympathy got her as close to a steady paying job as she was bound to have any time soon.

  So she told him what he wanted to hear. It wasn’t her tale. In fact, it was something she’d heard in a song by one of her favorite artists.

  “I was just a kid. He was my dad’s best friend.” A sad smile. “I didn’t even know what sex was.”

  His hands were on her then, but not on her body. No, he stroked her face with the lightest of touches—as if she were precious, fragile glass. When he kissed her, his touch gentle, she knew every kiss was an apology. This wasn’t an uncommon response. Most of these guys were decent people. She never asked what they were sorry for—she just let them apologize with their bodies moving with hers.

  Lilith let him kiss her as his hands undid the buttons of the schoolgirl’s blouse she wore. She kept waiting for his hands to get hard and needy as they roamed over her skin, but they never did. And when he pulled back, kneeling above her as he slipped on the condom, he looked at her. He looked her right in the eyes.

  Lilith’s breath caught.

  They never looked at her.

  He kept his eyes on her as he moved inside her, and she couldn’t look away. The expression there was so soft. No one had looked at her like that before. The atmosphere seemed to change all around them, and Lilith felt as if she were right on an edge, about to fall into oblivion. But it wasn’t the edge of orgasm. She wouldn’t know anything about what that felt like. No, this was a precipice Lilith had never imagined. Looking into his eyes, somewhere deep inside her, an odd, overwhelming feeling stirred.

  Lilith closed her eyes.

  With that strange connection broken, she was able to find her rightful place again. This role she knew. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close as her hands ran through his hair and searched along his back and ass for pleasure points. She got vocal, testing to see if he liked a dirty talker or just liked to hear her moan. When she whimpered and made little noises, he responded with moans of his own, so she ran with that, working her way too an all too familiar finish. She had perfected the art of the fake orgasm.

  Trey’s body pressed against hers as he caught his breath. Lilith was somewhat surprised to find she wasn’t counting the seconds until he rolled away from her. Most of the time, she was indifferent to sex. She didn’t hate it, but it gave her no pleasure. On occasion it could be fun, but more often than not it was just a job.

  Lying in the aftermath with Trey felt . . . pleasant. Almost comfortable. She ran her fingers through his hair with absent movements.

  But then he did roll off her, and she sat up, dressing.

  “Stay.” He blurted the word as she was about to make her good-byes. He was lying on the bed, blinking with sleep-hooded eyes in the soft light of the room.

  A smile played at her lips. She found his sweet nature endearing. She grabbed the condom wrapper off the nightstand, studying it a moment before she spoke. “ ‘The condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip one on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night . . . then you throw it away.’ ”

  He snorted. “Fight Club. Nice.”

  Lilith smiled. “The party ends when the clock strikes midnight, kid.” But she indulged them both with one last, soft kiss. “I’ll find my own way home. Don’t worry.”

  Lilith was already in the taxi on her way back to the club when she realized she’d set all the bait she needed for a repeat customer, but she had forgotten to invite him back.

  Chapter 2

  “They’re going to get the order wrong,” Lilith grumbled into her coffee.

  Malcolm—Mal—Cooper glanced up at her over his orange juice. He took a long drink and smacked his lips
the same way as he had done since there were all in third grade together. “How do you get biscuits and gravy wrong?”

  “Ah, see. I ordered biscuits with a side of gravy.”

  Beside Mal, his twin sister, Dana, snorted. “Yeah right. You dip the pieces in the gravy anyway. What’s the difference?”

  “Huge difference. Come on. This is my one persnickety food quirk. I get one for your five billion.”

  Dana sniffed, affecting an offended air. “So I have a delicate palate. Sue me.” She took a dainty sip of her milk.

  Picking up a rolled up straw wrapper from the table, Lilith flicked it at her friend.

  “Anyway.” Mal stopped the inevitable, oh-so-mature wrapper fight that was about to ensue. “I think the waiter and the cook can handle biscuits with a side of gravy. Give them a little credit.”

  “I’m not trying to insult the staff. It’s just been one of those days, and it’d be par for the course.”

  “How can you tell it’s one of those days already? It’s barely ten,” Dana said, her expression bemused.

  “That’s right. It’s ten. Where am I usually at ten?”

  Her friend rolled her eyes. “Most of the world is up and about by ten.”

  “Let most of the world get up before ten. I’m not most people.” Lilith took a long drag of her coffee.

  “Well, it’s not my fault.” Dana waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “If Mal wasn’t such a worrywart, you’d still be sleeping right now.”

  Mal huffed. “Uh, let’s turn that around, little sister.” Dana rolled her eyes because she was younger by all of six minutes. “If you had answered your phone, our dear Lilith would still be in bed.”

  In most people’s lives, a twenty-year-old girl not answering her phone wasn’t cause for alarm. When it came to Dana, both Mal and Lilith knew better than to take her safety for granted. The abashed look on Dana’s face spoke volumes. She knew damn well Mal had every reason to be worried.