Page 44 of Shamed
“It was just an observation.”
I can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment that makes her shoulders lower. But one thing is for sure, she shows signs of thatsomethingI always subconsciously look for, yet I’m neverhappy when I find it. From the nervous energy to the way she avoids eye contact, and everything in between.
“Well, I’ll leave you be, then,” she says softly. “Have a good night.”
“Wait,” I say again before she can walk away, this time not grabbing her wrist. She pauses, her big gray eyes looking at me expectantly. Reaching into my pocket, I grab a card and hold it out to her. “Come by one evening if it’s something you might be interested in. And tell the other women here, too.”
With cautious hesitance, she takes the card and looks at it, her eyes widening and mouth parting when she reads it. I doubt that’s what she was expecting to see.
I was supposed to be talking to Chester about it, but I think he’s purposely left me waiting, which means he can fuck right off.
Without another word, she walks away from me, tucking the card into her bra.
Only then do I let my eyes look lower for just a second, a miniscule moment in time, where I pretend to be a regular man, appreciating her curves and the roundness of her ass cheeks. And the way her lingerie is not simply for cover, but for admiring the way it accentuates the parts of her body that each piece touches.
That second is all I allow before lifting my eyes again, just in time to see her peek over her shoulder at me.
Then, she disappears into the crowd.
I settle back into my chair, swallowing down some more of my drink while watching the area she just occupied. There’s something about those haunted eyes, that look like storm clouds right before the destruction hits, and those pretty, but downturned pink lips that has my mind stuck on her.
She said we haven’t met before, and though I don’t recognize the name, I’m almost sure we’ve talked at some point.
The last mouthful of my drink slides down my throat, and I think I’m ready to call it a night. I place my empty glass on the table beside me and run my fingers through my hair, giving it a little tousle. At that same moment, the crowd parts, and Jayne comes into view again.
My fingers freeze at the sight of a smile spreading her cheeks as she talks to a gray-haired man seated in front of her.
What the fuck?
A smile is the last thing I would have expected to see, considering it looked like she was mere seconds away from running into the ladies’ room when she was talking to me.
Maybe I was wrong about my earlier assumption?
But the closer I look—observing her every movement, her every expression—the more fake that smile appears.
It’s not fucking genuine; it’s forced, just like her seductive voice in my ear.
Jayne’s head tilts to the side, and her smile widens at whatever the man says, but the second her gaze shifts and lands on me again, the smile vanishes, wiping clear off her face. That same spooked expression returns, making the V between my brows grow deeper.
Is it onlymegetting that reaction? Others get the forced smile, while I get the troubled look?
She scurries away from the man shortly after she catches me watching her, then continues working the floor in the farthest section of the club.
I track her movements, catching glimpses of her through the bodies of other patrons filling the room.
The more I watch her, the more baffled I get. Especially when every person she approaches gets a smile and fake happiness, yet whenever she glances my way—which is often—I get the opposite reaction.
The only explanation I can think of is that I remind her of someone she clearly wants to avoid.
I consider staying a little longer, maybe try to talk to her again, but the moment I see her settle into the lap of someone else, a weird feeling rushes through me, and I decide I’ve already spent enough time here. I stand abruptly and charge for the exit, finally leaving this hellhole.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Mase
Trixy climbs off the bed with a practiced smile on her face, her raven hair and smoky makeup still perfectly in place, clothes still on.
Though she says otherwise, I know she secretly likes the fact that this arrangement leaves her in good condition for her next payingclient.
