Page 30 of Dirty (Chicago Underground 5)
I lay in his arms, tense. I wanted to relax, to enjoy this like a normal person, but I couldn’t shake the old, now stale panic. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. It wasn’t for fear of him, but fear of the past. When I lay in his arms without the rote mechanics of a job, the fear took over.
He spoke in a tone so certain it soothed me. “One day you’ll be free of this. You won’t have to look over your shoulder all the time or be scared anymore. You’ll have a place of your own. But bigger. And nicer. No ruffles for you. You’ll have a whole life. All this will fade away into the past.”
But I didn’t want to forget him. I didn’t want to forget the rough timbre of his voice as he tried to imagine me, happy and whole.
“Keep going,” I begged.
He paused. “I know you think guys only want you for your body. What else could you think, considering what you’ve been through? But it doesn’t have to be that way. You’ll find a guy who sees what’s inside you, who loves you for that more than anything else.”
Past the serious insights, a glint of humor touched my lips. “Are you telling me about my life with another guy while your dick is hard against my hip?”
“Ignore that.” I heard the smile in his voice. “Every guy has a part of him that’s a greedy bastard. Right now that’s the only part of us you see.”
“I can’t see it right now, but from what I can feel, it’s very impressive.”
He snorted. “Don’t act like you prefer them larger.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t appreciate the compliment anyway.”
His laugh confirmed my words. “You don’t need to pretend with me. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Ah, we’re back to the fake orgasms. Do they offend you so much?”
“They aren’t necessary. If I wanted to fuck you without making you come, I would do it.”
The harsh language reverberated within me, but it was the truth. He could have had me by now, for free or by the hour. He hadn’t. I wanted to know the reason even as I was terrified to find out. Whatever my fatal flaw was would haunt me forever after. “Why haven’t you?”
Tension rolled through him. His voice flattened. “I have a different view of the situation than you.”
“The situation?”
“Prostitution. I don’t care if I’m paying you or if you say you consent. You don’t want this.”
“How do you know that?”
“I’m not so vain as to believe I’m the one man you actually want to have sex with.”
“What if I told you I had watched your body with lust? That I wanted to feel you inside me?”
“You’re under my protection right now.” His voice was strained. “It’s in your best interest to stay in my good graces, to develop a bond with me.”
“So now I don’t even know what I want? My desires are invalid? Oh please, spare me from another man who tells me what to feel.”
“I’m trying to protect you. From me.” His erection loomed thick and hard against my side, belying his words. “God, there’s a million reasons why this is a bad idea. You’re too young. You’ve been hurt too badly and used too much. How can you consent to me and mean it? It would be rape if I touched you.”
I pulled back and turned to face him, incredulous. “You’re saying I’m not even capable of consenting. I’m so far beyond broken that I can’t even do what another woman can. Do you know how much that insults me? When you take away my choice, it diminishes me. I don’t want to be less than anyone else. I want to be whole.”
“Christ,” he said. “I know. I’m sorry. I know.”
His apologies were like a prayer, heartfelt but falling on deaf ears. I pushed away, scrambling to the edge of the bed.
“Get away from me. Don’t touch me. Or am I not allowed to say that either? I don’t even know what I want. Is that right?”
It was right, though, whether he said it or not. I was so torn up inside, wanting him near me but fearing and loathing myself. Tears slipped down my cheeks.
“I will leave,” he said quietly. “If you want me to go. Is that what you want?”
“No,” I sobbed. “Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Even if I tell you to, that’s not what I really want. I just can’t say it all the time. I can’t say what I want anymore. I’m so afraid.”
