Page 57 of Wicked Player
But I’m in no mood.
“Home,” I say, the word clipped.
A collective sigh waves through the bus.
He laughs. “Home?”
“Yes… home,” I say. “I’ve had a long night.”
“Yes… you do look a fright.”
My jaw drops. How dare him. “Well, yeah. That’s why I’m going home.”
“Why don’t you come back in? And we’ll clean you up.”
The nerve of him.
“No, I’m fine.” I turn my gaze away, and stare straight ahead. “Thank you for the evening.”
He grabs my chin, and forces me to look at him. Gone is the cocky expression, replaced by a serious somber face. “You’ve been crying,” he says softly.
I hate this. I hate every second of it. Now everyone’s attention is on me. Everyone knows I’ve been crying over him. They all know I’m a sucker too. “Let me go,” I plead.
“I won’t,” he says, his eyes not leaving mine. “I want you to stay.”
“But I want to go,” I snap.
“Stay,” he pleads.
I can’t. He can’t fuck me around anymore. I’m not one of his toys, one of his pretty puppets. I don’t need this shit. I have a kid to look after, a life I’m content with. I don’t need a man who makes me cry.
He leans down, and presses his hot mouth against my ear. He still smells divine, and I still crave his touch despite everything. “Ten thousand for the night,” he whispers.
My breath hitches. I close my eyes. “No way,” I say. The gall of him, thinking he can buy me. “I’m not a prostitute,” I whisper, turning my gaze to his.
He leans in again. “Twenty-five,” he whispers so quietly, I barely hear him.
My heart is beating so fast, I can barely breathe. “I can’t…”
He growls into my ear, clearly angry. “Fifty grand… final offer.”
I’m frozen with shock. He can’t be serious. He’s insane.
Fifty thousand dollars… the things I could do with that money. One night. That’s all it would take. And Christian could go to college. He’s such a smart kid. He deserves to go far in life. And there’s no way I can help him. But now…
He’s got me now. I can be a whore for one night. I can do it for Christian. When I finally venture a look up, he’s smiling. He knows he’s hooked me.
He offers his hand, and I reluctantly take it. As he leads me out of the bus, some of the ladies cheer, others just stare, wide-eyed.
He leads me into the warmth of the house. And as soon as he closes the door behind us, he presses me against the door. “You’re not a cheap date.”
I smile despite myself. “You’re not a poor man.”
“Were you crying?”
I hate to admit it, but he needs to hear this. “Yeah, I thought… I was stupid. I thought you and I had something… stupid, I know.”
He shakes his head. “No… not stupid. We do.”
