Текст книги "Relinquish"

Автор книги: M. N. Forgy

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

“Ha!” I blurt, turning to leave.

“You gotta any better options?” Mick hollers, catching me in my step.

“You’re telling me we use our bodies and don’t get a dime?” I question, my tone hostile as I turn around furious. “Then I say. Fuck. You,” I spit.

Done. I am so done with this whole thing.

“Then go. Work the streets alone without my protection. I’ll send dead roses to your funeral-”

“They won’t have a funeral. Ain’t nobody know they here. Look at them,” Margo adds, standing and waving her finger up and down as she points at us.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jayden steps up to Margo, her fists clenched, ready to throw down. I follow her lead, ready to have Jayden’s back. This Margo chick is starting to get on my last nerve.

“That’s my bottom bitch,” Mick informs, serious.

“Your what?” I can’t help but laugh.

“You know, bottom bitch. It means she’s been around since day one, my most trustworthy bitch,” Mick explains, smiling big at Margo.

“I’d back off,” one of the men standing behind Mick seethes, his chest puffed out. I kind of forgot they were even here; they’re so still and quiet.

I close my eyes, conflicted with what to do.

“Look, how about for the first week, I’ll give you a percentage depending on what you make. That’s the best I can do. You don’t like it, then bounce. But I either get both of you or neither,” Mick offers, and I can’t help but scoff. Accepting his offer will back us into a corner. We won’t have any money to leave if we ever wanted to, because he’ll have it all.

“Don’t be stupid,” Margo whispers, catching mine and Jayden’s attention.

“I’ll take care of you girls, so you won’t have to worry about your next meal. You won’t have to worry about how to pay for a doctor when you’re sick. You’re mine,” Mick pleads his case. His hands steeple as he trails his eyes over us.  He knows where we’re weak, knows what we need, and he’s using it to the point we would be stupid to decline his offer. The way he watches my face, my body after every offer he puts on the table, after every word he says, he’s looking for a way to hook us, to hook me.

“We’ll figure it out,” Jayden mutters, grabbing my hand. I look from our joined hands to her gray eyes. She’s been hooked.  I can’t resist this offer. What will I do if Jayden or I get sick, or hurt? We can’t afford a hospital.

Our worries of surviving are over if we accept.

“Like you didn’t use me? You took that money without any problem.”

“You’ve already whored yourself out. Why fight who you are?”

Chasen’s words echo in my head. This is what I do. I have sex with men, then take their money. There’s no better path for me. I can’t bail on Jayden. She needs me. We need each other.

“Fine,” I mumble softly.

“Excellent. You start now. Margo, dirty these girls up,” Mick instructs, not taking his eyes off his cigar as he twirls it between his fingers.

“You got it, baby,” Margo coos, opening the office door.

“Oh, and ladies,” Mick stops us. Jayden and I turn, waiting for him to continue. “You try and stiff me on my money, you won’t like the consequences.” His nostrils flare with rage, his eyebrows narrowed with promise. I swallow hard and nod.

“Okay,” Jayden mutters, her voice cracking.

TEN

CHARLIE

Following Margo, I notice the blue paint is chipped along the motel, and the concrete beneath our feet is cracked.  Looking across the way, I see half-naked girls – prostitutes – waiting outside their doors, smoking a cigarette and eyeing Jayden and me.

“This is us.” Margo points to an off-white door with the number 1 on it.

Inside the room, there’s a bed with nothing but white sheets and a shitty air conditioner under the window blowing warm air into the room that smells of stale cigarettes. A black fridge, dresser, and chair are the only pieces of furniture apart from the bed.

“Seems Daddy Mick just loves you, huh?” Margo props her hands on her hips and glares at Jayden.

“I, uh,” Jayden stutters.

“Strip,” Margo instructs, kicking her heels off. “I need to see what I have to work with,” she clarifies, heading toward the closet.

“Do you always dress Mick’s new girls?” Jayden sasses, taking her top off.

“I do whatever Daddy Mick asks of me, as you should, too. He’s saving you, ya know?” She turns her head, looking over her shoulder, her tone snarky.

“How so?” Jayden laughs.

“No man who knows you’re with Mick will touch you out of anger. You won’t go hungry ever again. You need air in your apartment? Mick will get it. You need clothes? Mick will take you shopping. He is your savior,” she explains, throwing out a slew of dresses. She makes Mick sound like a god rather than a pimp.

I give a tight-lipped smile and glance around. Jeez, it’s as if I just walked into a dress shop with all the clothes, shoes, and makeup displayed everywhere.

I spot a bright red dress on the bed and smirk. “Hand me that red dress,” I instruct Jayden, my fist clenching with anxiety. She grabs the dress and hands it to me while smiling. She’s happy. She feels safe, knowing our worries of surviving are over, and that makes me happy.

“Oh, you’ll need these.” Margo turns and opens a dresser drawer, pulling out something and tossing it on the bed.

“Fishnets? Isn’t that a little cliché?” I giggle, looking at Jayden who’s laughing, too.

“Embrace ya’ stereotypes, baby. These men, they want that taboo feeling of being with a prostitute. The back of cars, dirty motel rooms, that’s what sells around here,” Margo advises, tossing Jayden a pair of stockings.

“Let’s do it then.” Jayden nods, undoing the tangled stockings.

“Rules,” Margo starts, sitting on the bed while Jayden and I dress. “If your trick is fat, you compliment him on his hair. If he took the time to brush his teeth before seeing you, you tell him how sexy he is. If a man reeks of body odor, you ignore it. You don’t ever say anything about it. If a man has greasy hair or dresses lousy, you never say anything. If they say they love you, you tell them you love them back,” Margo rambles, talking as if she’s reading from a handbook.

“Why?” Jayden shrugs.

“Because we’re the trick’s escape from the nagging wife, the bitchy boss, and every other judgmental person in their life. It’s why they keep coming back. You get repeat customers, you get praise from Mick.” Margo looks at Jayden with narrowed brows as she explains. I can tell Margo is head over heels for Mick. He is the sun to her world. “It’s all about acting, really. Make the trick feel like a king.”

“So, what do we do if they smell to the point we can’t—”

“Pretend he smells of roses, hold your breath, and suffer through it,” Margo states matter-of-factly.

I snort, then laugh. I can’t help it.

“That funny?” Margo asks with laughter of her own.

“A little. Especially when I think of Jayden stuck under some smelly guy,” I respond. Margo rolls her eyes at my humor. What a bitch.

“You’ll always wear a Jimmie,” she continues, her tone on the edge of irritated.

“A what?” I question, shifting in my dress. This thing is way too short. If I bend over, my ass will show. It dips between my breasts, and there’s a cut-out right around my belly button. Lots of skin shows, and I can’t help but feel self-conscious. I guess I don’t have to worry about the dress giving me a wedgie, considering I don’t think it has enough material to reach the crack of my ass.

“A Jimmie, you know, a condom.  Always use one, and make sure it’s from your stash. I’ve seen some desperate men out there looking for a reason out of marriage.” Margo shakes her head, digging in her purse.

“What do you mean?” Jayden asks, running her hands down her gray dress. It covers her breasts and her crotch with the entire middle and back open.

“Men will poke holes, or say they don’t have one,” Margo responds, lighting a cigarette.

“Jesus,” I mutter, pulling on a stocking, my toes getting caught in the holes.

“No, baby, Jesus isn’t with you. Not in this game.” Margo puffs on her cigarette, looking at me to disagree.

I sigh and sit on the bed to put on some fuck-me heels.

“What do we do if a guy doesn’t pay? I ask.

Margo lifts a brow. “I suggest you don’t let that happen. Hit the fucker over the head with a lamp if need be.” I flinch from her harsh tone. “You follow those rules, you’ll be fine, babe,” Margo comforts, rubbing my back.

“Why did Mick split us up?” Jayden asks, sitting next to me.

“Probably because he knows we’re trouble together,” I tease.

“Does it matter? What – you two seeing each other? Because if so, Daddy Mick will charge double for that kind of show.” Margo throws her head back and laughs. Jayden glances my way, her lip curled in disgust.

“No, we aren’t gay,” I spit. “I don’t like being away from her is all,” I continue, my forehead wrinkling with concern.

Margo puffs on her cigarette, squinting with the rolling smoke clouding her face.

“Daddy Mick can tell your girl needs to be broken in slowly.” She points to me, and I roll my eyes and look at the gray curtains in my line of sight.

“I suggest you get your shit together quickly,” Margo snaps.

“Fuck you,” I sneer, standing up. Jayden stands with me, her fists rolled tightly.

“Honey, you better sit your little ass down.” Margo doesn’t even flinch at my harsh tone. “Coming in here acting like you’re too good, that your pussy is made of gold or some shit.” She licks her bottom lip and levels us with a death glare.

“You don’t know shit about either of us, so shut your mouth, bitch.” I step up to the bed, Margo standing on the other side.

“I suggest you get your emotions under control, because your mommy and daddy aren’t here for you to cry to. This is the real world,” Margo insults, crossing her arms. My nostrils flare and my face burns with rage.

“Like you have room to talk. You’re just being a bitch because you’re jealous of—”

“Jealous of what? You?” She shakes her head and laughs softly.

“Maybe not me, but you’re jealous that Mick took to us so quickly. What – did he give us special treatment that you didn’t get?” I cock my head to the side and watch Margo’s eyes go wide. I hit her soft spot. “Yeah, thought so. Why don’t you get your emotions under control?”

Margo’s upper lip curls, and she slams her half-smoked cigarette in the glass ashtray.

“You better watch it.” Jayden points at Margo with a stare that has me a little nervous.

Margo looks at a small alarm clock on the night stand.

“It’s late. It’s time.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jayden asks with a shrug.

“The later it is, the more subject to sin men are,” I state. I glance up to see a wide-eyed Jayden and a Margo smiling wolfishly.

“Exactly.” Margo nods approvingly. Standing to leave, she grabs my hand, pulling me back.

“My best advice to you, baby? Build a shell, protect your feelings from getting involved. It’ll save you in the long run. Then you can get a hold of what’s real and what isn’t.”

I nod, my heart suddenly pounding against my chest nervously. I can’t keep up with her ‘bad whore, good whore’ tactics.

“Drugs help,” she mutters, grabbing my hand and pushing something into my palm before walking away. I slowly undo my fist and find a very small baggy with a white powdery substance in it. Coke?

***

“You look good dirty, I must say,” Mick chimes, rubbing his chin while sizing us up in our new attire.

“Thanks,” I mutter, looking down at my red dress and gray heels. It’s a miracle I can even walk in the damn things.

“So!” Mick claps his hands. “Rarity and Margo will hit the streets, learn the ropes, and you, Fancy, will head to room 2.”

I look at Jayden, hating leaving her.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll be fine,” she mutters, nodding.

“She’s in good hands, don’t worry,” Mick states, reclining in his chair and kicking his feet up on the desk.

I watch Margo and Jayden walk out of the office, leaving me to Mick and his men. I feel alone.

“Sex is four hundred dollars. If the trick wants anything oral, it’s one-fifty. Anything else, I’ll handle beforehand. You collect the money before delivery, and get it to me after the deed is done. Understand?” He lifts a thick eyebrow, waiting for my response. I take my gaze from the door Margo and Jayden went through and peer from under my lashes at Mick.

“Yeah,” I mutter.

“When you get a customer, I’ll send them your way. Till then, kick back, watch TV, do your nails. I don’t really give a shit,” Mick instructs. I nod and turn to leave.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’ll have Terris stand outside your room for protection,” Mick adds, making me look over my shoulder at him.

“Who’s Terris?” I question, shaking my head in confusion.

Mick snaps his fingers, and one of the guards behind him steps forward.

“You’ll learn you’re safe with me, girl.” He shrugs, a big smile across his face.

***

Room 2 is no different than room 1. The bed has nothing but white sheets and a few pillows. A black fridge with a small TV sitting on top of it and a dresser and chair are all the furniture. The only thing different in here is there’s a bowl of condoms on the night stand.

I finger the little baggy of cocaine, my mind racing back and forth with whether I should snort it or not. I’ve never done drugs before. I’m sure it would help me get past the nerves forming in the pit of my stomach, but I don’t think I want to be so far gone I don’t know what I’m doing. Having sex with strange men, I think I should have my wits about me. I stand on shaky legs and toss it in the trash bin.

I lie on the bed, looking up at the ceiling for what seems like forever.

“My best advice to you? Build a shell, protect your feelings from getting involved. It’ll save you in the long run, at least until you get a hold of what’s real and what isn’t.”

“You get repeat customers, you get praise from Mick.”

“It’s all about acting, really. Make the trick feel like a king.”

Margo’s words replay in my mind, haunting my subconscious. I have to pull this off. I have to make the trick want me for a second time, and a third. I have to make them believe they’re everything the world thinks they aren’t.

A firm knock sounds at the door, making my heart beat with such force I feel light-headed. I inhale deeply, preparing myself for what kind of monster walks through that door.

“Com– come in,” I stutter nervously. The door clicks and opens slowly, and a man with curly brown hair, maybe in his late twenties, steps in. His jaw is sharp, forehead large. His brown eyes are friendly with a sense of sincerity as he looks me over. He’s dressed in a black suit, but nothing like the kind Landon wore. This one looks cheap. The buttons look plastic, and there’s string fraying from one of the seams.

“Wow,” he mutters, shutting the door behind him. I clear my throat and stand, looking over at the TV and seeing the music video to “Wicked Games” by The Weekend.

“You were not what I was expecting,” he mumbles, loosening his red tie.

“What were you expecting?” I laugh nervously, brushing a stray of hair behind my ear.

“Not something as gorgeous as you.” He chuckles, looking toward the wall, his cheeks turning a shade of red.

“I’m St—” he pauses, closing his eyes. “I’m Smith,” he continues. It’s fake, but whatever. It’s not like Fancy is my real name.

“I’m Fancy, and you don’t look so bad yourself. In fact, you don’t look like you need to pay for sex, so why are you here?” I ask bluntly, tilting my head to the side. I thought for sure I’d have some large guy who sits around playing video games in here asking for me to spread my legs. Definitely not the likes of Smith, who looks like a law student, or real estate agent, maybe a car salesman even.

He smirks, walking toward me, his stride confident as he tears his tie completely off and throws it on the bed. The breath races from my lungs. Shit, this is happening. This is really happening. I’m about to have sex for money. It’s different than before; it’s on purpose this time. There’s no sugar-coating my devious acts. He wants me for one thing and one thing only: sex.

“Are you supposed to ask me that?” he questions, his voice taking on a deep tone.

“Ask you what?”

“Why I’m here,” he repeats, little wrinkles forming on his forehead.

I shake my head, my hands fidgeting with each other. “Probably not.” I laugh nervously.

“I like that. I like that you talk to me like a normal person. That you don’t tell me what I want to hear.” He tucks his hand behind my head, tilting my head upward, and looks me up and down hungrily. My fingers and toes tingle, and my lips part.

“I’m here because my fiancée took the notion of me asking her to marry me to the point we shouldn’t have sex until our wedding night. I’m going on a four-month dry spell, and have eight more months to go,” he explains, his tone dry. His jaw clenches as he surveys me like a piece of meat, and I like it. My body responds to the way he eyes me like I’m the only one he sees, like I’m the subject of sex.

“You’ll never make it eight months,” I whisper, my voice laced with lust. My body warms, surfing with the craving to release its tension of the night. “So, what can I do for you, Mr. Smith?” I ask, running my tongue along my bottom lip, enticing him.

He runs his thumb over my lip, soaking up the trail of wetness my tongue left behind, and leans in to kiss me – but I dodge him. My eyes widen at my sudden reaction, but there’s something about being kissed that makes my current haze of desire dissipate. My mind races to Landon and the way my body came alive when he kissed me. I didn’t realize how alone in life I had truly been until he kissed me that night. It doesn’t matter, though. Whatever I felt from that kiss, Landon apparently felt none of it. I need to protect myself.

I arch my body, loll my head back, and push Smith’s head into the crook of my neck. He takes to me quickly with kisses along my skin, the fire of want surfacing between my thighs slowly. My skin burns with the admiration Smith’s hands have for my body.

A growl escapes his throat as he pulls back eagerly, tearing his suit jacket off. I fist him by his white dress shirt and throw him on the bed roughly, just as excited. He lands with a bounce, a smirk across his face.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes heavily, unbuttoning his pants. My blood rushes through my veins so fast I go deaf; the only thing I can hear is my rampant heartbeat. I straddle his legs, pressing my knees on each side of his hips as my dress crawls up my thighs, revealing I’m not wearing any panties.

I push on his chest, laying him down on his back fully before I unzip his pants and shove my hand down his boxers, pulling his dick free. It’s not as thick as Landon’s, and it’s not as long, either. I close my eyes and shake my head, trying to shake anything Landon from my mind.

“Anytime you get turned on, any partner you have sex with in the future…you’ll always think of me.”

Landon’s voice haunts me, causing me to grit my teeth and close my eyes.

Stop thinking of Landon.

He’s not the man I thought he was. He wasn’t a savior. He used me, taught me that every man is the same. Chasen, Landon, this guy Smith. All for sex. Well, it’s my time to use them back. In doing so, I’m going to ride Smith’s cock so hard Landon is a tumbleweed in my mind’s eye. I’m determined to get Landon out my mind and forget him.

“This what you want, sexy?” I open my eyes and stare at him seductively, my voice heavy with lust.

“Yes, fuck yes,” he grits, sitting up on his elbows.

I pump Smith’s cock, getting him ready, and his mouth falls open with pleasure. The power I have over this man is a poison to my soul. I have the control. I am what they want. I hold the power between my legs.

“You like that?” I tease, looking at his state of bliss. He doesn’t answer, just nods.

“After a long day at work, you need attention,” I coo. My heart palpates with how quickly I’m taking to the role of a prostitute. Maybe this is what I was born to do. Seduce men, be worshipped by the opposite sex. Romance and love at first sight isn’t real. It’s not practical and it’s not what pays the bills. Bills. Shit, this guy hasn’t paid yet.

“Yes, I do,” he mumbles, thrusting his hips up.

“So, before I go further, you know the price?” I stop touching his hard length, waiting for him to pay. The last thing I need is for this guy not to pay and I get on Mick’s bad side.

“Yes. Yeah, I do,” he answers frantically. He pushes his hips upward, lifting us, and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. Taking out four hundred dollars, he throws it on the mattress beside us.

“Don’t stop. Don’t tease me,” he whispers, his eyes begging me to continue. I smile sweetly and lean over him, grabbing a condom from the wicker basket that sits on the nightstand. I bite my lip, tear the package with my fingers and pull the condom out. I look at Smith’s dick, then back at the condom. I’m not one hundred percent how one works.

“Let me,” Smith breathes heavily, his voice muffled with raw hunger. He takes the rubber from my hands and sheaths his cock with it. “Fuck me, Fancy,” he demands, slapping my ass.

I take a big breath. Here it goes, no turning back. I lift up on my knees and hover my heat right over his cock. I plant my hands on his chest and lower myself slowly onto him. My heart drums against my chest violently as I fully take him inside of me. I still; it stings from only having sex once before.

“Holy fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, thrusting his hips up. I try not to wince and attempt a small smile. I push myself up and down, looking for that ecstasy I found with Landon. When he claimed my body, that fullness he brought filled my insecurities, my emptiness. That sensation of being alone and abandoned vanished with nothing except falling into pleasure. I growl, frustrated that I’m still thinking of Landon, and thrust harder on Smith, literally trying to fuck Landon out of my mind.

“Yes. Yes,” Smith huffs, grabbing onto my hips. I close my eyes, focusing on my own selfish need to come.

“You’re so good at this,” I pant.  No, he’s not. He’s not even close.

“So big!” I holler. He’s small in comparison to what I’ve seen.

Just when I think I feel a hint of warmth spread through my limbs, the start of something pleasurable, a whimper escapes my lips. I fist his shirt hard and pump myself up and down quicker, chasing that feeling of satisfaction, but Smith stiffens beneath me. He grunts and trembles as he comes. Already? His legs kick beneath me, and a squealing noise leaves his gaping mouth as he finishes. I pull myself off him and roll over, collecting the money while blowing out a breath of frustration. I mask my irritation and turn toward him.

“Thanks, Smith.” I flutter my eyelashes at him. “We should do it again sometime,” I suggest sweetly, pulling my dress down. But on the inside, I feel anything but sweet. I feel anger and resentment.

“Yeah,” he pants violently.

He stands and peels the condom off his length, tossing it in the waste basket.

“See you around, Fancy,” he says, shoving himself back into his pants.

I fall on the bed, my head pounding with what I just did. Adrenaline flees my system, leaving realization in its wake. I fucked a man for four hundred dollars. My eyes sting with the welling of tears at the thought. I liked it, though. The way his hands explored my body, the way he looked at me. Trying to fuck Landon’s voice out of my head wasn’t so bad, either. In fact, I found some sanctuary in it. It wasn’t until I was so disappointedly let down from not reaching my own release that my conscience reminded me that I just knowingly stamped myself as a whore. I shake my head and wipe at a tear escaping the corner of my eye.

“Get a fucking grip,” I chastise myself, heading to the bathroom to clean up. Going back into the main room, I don’t hear the music playing on the TV. I frown in confusion.

“You’re a natural,” Mick announces, sitting on the bed, his legs crossed as he puffs on a cigar. His white suit sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the crappy motel room.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

He points to the smoke alarm above the bed and grins.

“This room is on video. I send girls I’m not sure can deliver in here in the beginning, see how they handle their first fuck.”

“You videotaped me?!” I shriek, my hands ball into fists with anger. I just went from prostitute to porn star in the matter of minutes. My legs shake with rage, and shame bubbles in my chest.

“I didn’t record anything, baby, so calm down. I just watched. I needed to know if you had what it takes, and I must say, you surprised me very much.” He laughs, expelling cigar smoke into the room.

Having his approval, I relax my stressed stance for some reason and cross my arms. The delight of such praise from Mick is a high I didn’t expect.

“So, can I join Jayden then?” I question, and shrug my shoulders.

“No, you cannot join, not just yet. But you can take the rest of the night off, and from now on, you’ll be in room 3.” He stands, his index finger and thumb cradling the dark cigar.

“And you better start calling Jayden by her street name.” He puffs out a bunch of smoke.

I roll my eyes and huff at my slip-up.

“Does your apartment have air, Fancy?” He raises a brow, waiting for my response.

I narrow my eyes. “No.”

“It will now.” He cups my cheek and looks into my eyes with admiration.

“I can tell you had it rough, girl, but this is your family now. This is your home.”

I blink rapidly at the care he displays. I’m not sure what to make of it. This stranger, this man I know nothing about, has more care for my wellbeing than people I’ve known for years. There’s something unsettling about that.

“Mick has you now, baby girl.” He places his cigar between his teeth and pats my cheek. “I’ll get the address to your place from Rarity.” He turns to leave, smoke following him. “Go home and clean up. You did good tonight.”

After Mick leaves, the smell of cigar prominent in the room, I expel the breath I was holding when he touched me. I can’t help the satisfaction forming in my chest from pleasing him, shocking him. I don’t think I’ve ever done anything right in my life. I shake my head, confused why I care so much.