A delicate hand draped over his lower arm. The smooth edge of her red, manicured fingernail ran along the tattoo of a chain running along his skin. He’d gotten it shortly after joining the Navy when he’d only been eighteen, the link signifying the new unbreakable bonds he would form with his brothers.
The woman leaned in, brushing her breasts against his right bicep. “Why don’t we take this upstairs? Someplace more private where you can forget all about her.”
Ghost turned his head, but his eyes had already clocked what she likely hoped he wouldn’t see in the mirror behind the bar. “And let me guess, your cousin sitting in the booth in the back will make sure I pay for more than just your drink, right?”
A professional through and through, she shrugged easily. “Lady can’t be too careful,” she told him saucily.
While that was true, Ghost was all too familiar with sex workers who were forced or coerced just to be able to provide for themselves or their families. He tossed back his remaining bourbon, ignoring the burn as it went down his gullet. Turning, he faced the woman, giving her his full attention for the first time. She really was beautiful. She just wasn’t Becks.
He combed his fingers through her long, black strands before leaning in to press his lips to her bare flesh at the nape of her throat. She smelled of roses and citrus, and still his cock didn’t so much as twitch in his jeans.
Ghost lifted his head as if he was kissing his way up her neck. Instead, he used his body to hide hers, positioning his hand onthe side of her face that reflected in the mirror. “Is he here to keep you safe or to keep you working?” he whispered into her ear. “If you don’t want to be here, I can get you away and set you up with a new life so he can never find you.”
Her laugh was low, almost husky. “I should have known you’d be an Edward.”
Ghost kept his position to keep up the ruse but had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”
“Pretty Woman. It’s what we call clients who want to rescue the lost souls,” she said in a flamboyant voice. “I hate to break it to you, but some of us actuallyenjoythe work we do.” Her hand went to his chest and she started to pull at the neck seam. “I don’t need rescuing.”
“Enjoying the work is one thing,” Ghost pressed. “Being treated well is another.”
She moved back slightly. “He’s my security, not my pimp, Mr. Lewis.”
Ghost sat straighter too, clocking the way her ‘security’ was trying to slyly take a picture of his face. Blackmail or to ensure they had proof of who she was last with? “I have no intention of sweeping you off your feet, but I can offer you a better life if you want it.”
“Honey,” she ran her fingernails down his chest, digging in slightly. “I don’t need a man to make my life ‘better’. Now, do you want to go upstairs?”
There was a good chance they’d watched him check in, targeting him because he had easy access to a room. Any other night, and Ghost might actually be tempted. He’d never paid before, but the offer had merit when she was so open and willing.
Ghost turned to face the bar again. “No,” he answered tersely.
Her face fell, but she didn’t turn nasty. “I understand. For what it’s worth, thank you for trying, and I wish you luck with the woman you’re pouting over.”
“I’m not pouting,” he argued automatically.
“Oh, honey. You’re radiating so much blue that your hair looks purple.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I do hope it gets better. And,” she added hesitatingly, “there’s no rule that says we have to have sex tonight. You’d be surprised how many of my regulars pay me just to cuddle or have someone to talk their problems through.”
She picked up her wine glass, but Ghost put an arm out to stop her from hopping down off the stool. He didn’t quite know what he was thinking, only that the second half of her offer sounded really good.
“How much?” he asked. He was already questioning his sanity today, so why not.
“Six hundred an hour,” she answered, pushing her chest up a little more. “But for you, I’ll offer you my two-for-one special.”
Ghost raised an eyebrow, more curious than anything. “And what’s that?”
“Normally it’s two holes for the price of one, but in your case, I’ll offer you two hours for the price of one.”
“Talk only?”
She nodded, though that didn’t stop her from running her fingers down his chest again. “Talk only, and I’ll even throw in a cuddle for free.”
“I’m curious. How much do you normally make a night?”
She lifted a manicured eyebrow, but didn’t call him out for the invasive question. “Depends on the tourists, can be anywhere from a couple hundred to five thousand if I’m booked for a party.”
Jesus, and he thought he got paid well. If she honestly did the work safely, then more power to her. “How about you come upwith me—to talk only—and I give you a thousand so you can take the rest of the night off? Give yourself a bit of a breather, and relax. I’m sure it’s got to be hard to be ‘on’ all the time for clients, even if you do like the work.”
The look in her eye said he’d guessed correctly. She reached into her cleavage to pull out her phone from somewhere. He hadn’t seen the impression in her dress. How did women hide so much shit in their tits?
