by Naomi West
“Can I get you anything?” he asked.
“I think I’m okay.”
“Maybe another drink, a sniff or two of coke?”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t do coke.”
“A drink then?”
“Okay.”
He went to the kitchen and she wandered in behind him, looking around.
“Nice place,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“Nice and big. Roomy. My place is a shoebox.”
“You live in a dorm?” He took out two glasses and set them on the counter.
“No, I have an apartment. But with two people, it’s crammed.”
“Two? You don’t have a boyfriend do you?” He poured the Scotch and turned to hand her a glass.
“No. Roommate.”
“Never know. Some guys would be all for selling their girls.”
She made a face and he guessed she would never end up with someone like that. What kind of man would she date? Someone who approved of what she was doing right now? Someone who understood, would take her hand as she cried, telling him the horrible thing she’d done, then hold her tight and comfort her? Probably. Some dude who was nothing like him.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asked. She looked around again. Was she trying to decide if a woman’s touch had been involved in his sparse decorations?
“Nope. Single. And I like to keep it that way.”
She nodded and took a long sip of her drink. “Lived here long?”
“A few years.”
God, how long would this small talk go on? He wanted her to feel comfortable. He wasn’t such a prick that he’d ever force a woman, and something in her innocence made him want to protect her. Even if it was from himself. But at the same time, his balls were aching. He needed a release soon. And maybe more than one. Hell, he’d paid her enough for that, right? A full night of screwing? Maybe he should have asked how these things usually worked. What should he expect from her? All he knew was, he needed to give her eight grand before she left.
He stepped forward and took her empty glass from her hand, setting it on the counter behind her. He stood in front of her, put his hands on either side of her so he was leaning against the counter, surrounding her. She swallowed hard and looked up at him.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said. This was almost like role playing. He was playing the part of the protector, taking an innocent little virgin for the first time. She was probably just as tight as one, too.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head toward him. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, then pulled them back. He went in again, taking longer with each kiss. She tasted good. Like candy, ironically enough. Maybe it had been a good name for her.
He tugged on her lip with his teeth. He wanted to chew her to little pieces right there. He could lift her skirt and take her on the counter. That would be hot. But maybe this sweet little thing needed the bed. Or maybe he’d do both. He’d do her nice and easy in his bed first, like she was used to. Then he’d show her just how hot things could be. They could fuck all over the house. The kitchen counter, against the wall in the entry, on the couch, in the hot tub. How many times would she let him come in her? Oh crap. Did he have enough condoms? He thought he had at least a half box.
Their kissing grew more intense. His hand found its way into her hair and he let it fall through her long blonde locks, then return to the top of her head and start again. He kissed down her neck slowly, then back up to her lips. She seemed to be liking it. He never worried about this sort of thing before. Usually if a woman came home with him, it was because she already wanted him, not because he paid her to. On the rare occasions that he paid for a screw, it was always some back alley job, or in his car parked somewhere, fast and dirty. He never brought them home.
She was too still, and he thought maybe something was wrong. She didn’t lift her hand to touch his face or run her fingers through his hair. Her arms hung at her sides, like she was frozen in fright.
He backed away to look in her eyes. “You okay?”
She nodded and swallowed hard.
“What can I get you? Another drink? Something to eat?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Want to take this upstairs?”
She swallowed again and took in a breath. “Okay,” she whispered.
He took her hand and walked her to the stairs, squeezing it as they climbed the steps to the second floor. His bedroom was even more of a mess and when they entered, he kicked some dirty clothes out of the way.
He turned and picked her up. She gasped in surprise. He laid her gently on the bed, then climbed into position over her. Hopefully this would let her relax and work into it. Geez, he’d never taken his time like this.
He took a moment to gaze into her eyes, brush her hair out of the way. Then he started kissing her again. He wanted her to touch him so badly. To run her nails along his back or grab his dick. Would it freak her out if he asked her to suck him off? Probably. Some women got all uptight about that even if they had chosen to be with you.
He let his hand trail along her neck and down. Her dress was low cut, revealing some cleavage. He kissed down and between her breasts, then returned to her lips, but let his fingers trace the edge of her dress, dipping down in to rub against them. He ran his thumb over her nipple and she stiffened.
Was this how it was going to be the whole time, then? She’d tense up and he’d have to slow down to get her to relax?
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I want you. Can you feel how bad?” He pressed his hips down so that his hard on pressed into her.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He thought he saw tears in her eyes. Jesus, really? She was crying? It almost killed his erection, but if she was going to be like that, maybe he didn’t care so much if she was comfortable. He could just bang her hard and give her what she needed, then move on.
“Do you want me?” he asked.
She nodded, but squeezed her eyes shut. She was lying.
He resumed kissing her and his hand move down her body until it found the edge of her dress. He slipped his hand under and ran it up her thigh.
She turned away from him suddenly, rolling over in the bed and ducking out from under his arm.
“I can’t do this,” she said, tears now running down her face.
She scrambled off the bed and dashed out of the room. Saxton let out a frustrated breath and collapsed on the bed, his dick throbbing. He expected to hear his front door close, but instead, he heard the door of his extra bedroom close. There was mostly just paperwork and an old bed in there. Nothing interesting or important.
He pushed himself up and got out of bed. He went to the door and knocked. “Sara?”
She didn’t answer. He tried the doorknob. Locked.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered. She was crying. He could hear it in her voice.
Now what? He ran his hand through his hair. Maybe she just needed some time. He reached down to adjust himself. He couldn’t wait much longer.
He pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. He let his head fall back until it rested against the wall. What the hell should he do now? What could he say to make this better? What a complete disaster of a night.
He’d gotten no new info on Liam’s murderer, which was his goal of every day. Maybe there was something with Darien, but that felt weak, like he was grasping at straws. He’d still have fun roughing him up for information, though. He’d gone out tonight to take a break, get away from the stress. He’d hoped to hook up, of course. He was always hoping for that. There was no better way to relieve stress than to shoot off into some hot chick. But now even that was falling apart. He didn’t think they could recover from this. As much as he hated to admit it, Sara was not the type to do this auction thing. And she wasn’t his type at all. This was a disaster before it even began.
He let out a long sigh and
tried to think of something to say to her.
Chapter Six
Sara sat hard on the bed, panting. The tears ran down her face and she bent over, elbows on her knees, trying to get a hold of herself.
There was no way she could do this. This just wasn’t her, to sleep with someone for money. Oh, but Ian. Now what would she do? She had nothing. No way to pay for any of his school. Her mind spun. She had to do this. She couldn’t do this.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered to herself. It was one night. One night. And she was getting eight grand. But she couldn’t have sex with this man. Even if it meant keeping her son in a good school. Was she really that selfish that she couldn’t sacrifice her body for a few hours for his sake? So stupid. She was making a huge mistake and it weighed on her.
No, she had to do this. Simple as that. She stood to go back out there, and her head spun. She felt so dizzy, she had to sit back down. The tears came harder.
Then there was a knock on the door. He had come to check on her. No. He had come to drag her back to bed. Oh God, why hadn’t she thought of that. She couldn’t say no. He’d paid for her. Even if she gave up the eight thousand, he’d paid the club two thousand for her. He deserved to get his money’s worth. And he had every right to come in there and take from her what he’d paid her for. It was a business transaction, wasn’t it? He’d purchased a service and he would get what he paid for.
He didn’t seem like the type to do that, but she didn’t know him at all. She started to shake and silently padded to the door to make sure again that it was locked. Could she climb out a window if he tried to come in? Was there anything she could use as a weapon? She looked around, but not much light came in through window. She didn’t dare turn on the light. It seemed much easier to hide and stay away from him in the dark.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
That made her cry more. He sounded concerned. Was he?
“I’m sorry,” she said. It came out sounding watery and pitiful. She was just pitiful tonight in every way. This whole thing had been a disaster.
Why had she done this at all? Why had she gone to the auction, knowing it would lead to this? For Ian. It was like she almost forgot all about her son, sleeping peacefully at the neighbor’s house while Mommy went out to sell herself for his sake. She shook her head. This was ridiculous.
It wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t standing on a street corner. She hadn’t gotten herself a pimp. She was just at some guy’s house. A pretty hot guy. A seemingly decent guy. What if she’d just been out for a night with friends? What if he had come up to her and hit on her and asked her back to his place? He had done that, actually. This whole time they pretended like he wasn’t paying her. And she had greatly appreciated that. It made her feel much less cheap and made the whole thing feel almost legal, almost normal. Just two adults hooking up for the night.
If she had ended up with Darien or the crotch grabber, it would make more sense that she was freaking out. But she hadn’t. She’d begged silently for Saxton to win and he had. He’d paid a ton of money for her. He’d saved her. And she couldn’t even repay him for it? Yes, she could. She could do this. She would do this.
She stood up, but then recalled the feeling of his hands on her. It hadn’t felt bad, it’d just felt wrong. Her knees got wobbly and she sat back down. Maybe if she took some time to chill out and calm down. Maybe then she could do this. It was just sex. No big deal. She’d done it plenty of times and this time didn’t have to be different at all.
She stared at the wall for a long time. Would Saxton try to come in? Would he demand that she unlock the door and come out? Enough time passed that she thought he wasn’t going to. Had he gone to sleep?
His voice came through the door, soft and gentle. “Sara, can I get you something or do something for you?”
“No,” she said quietly after a long pause.
He had offered her coke earlier. Maybe she should take him up on it. That might calm her enough that she could have sex with him and not freak out over it. But she’d never done coke. What if she passed out or something? Did she trust Saxton enough to pass out in front of him and know he wasn’t going to use that to his advantage? No, not at all.
“I…” he said. “Look, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. I want you. Badly. You’re so hot, I’d like nothing more than to… make love to you. But I’m not going to force you. I don’t want to sleep with someone who doesn’t want to sleep with me.”
Silent tears streamed down her face. She didn’t deserve for him to treat her so well. She’d gotten herself into this mess. She’d gone into the auction knowing exactly what it was. And now she was backing out. He had every right to demand she come out and have sex with him. But he wasn’t doing that.
Her opinion of bikers started to shift. He was a good guy. Even if he did illegal things for money, he wouldn’t force her and violate her like that, and that meant a lot to her. It made her feel safe, and that was something she wasn’t used to feeling.
She carried a knife on her all the time. Well, most of the time. Her brother had insisted. He loved knives. He’d given her one and told her to keep it on her. He’d showed her where to stab someone and how to hide it in her clothes. She hadn’t brought it tonight since she knew what she came for, but she wasn’t missing it with Saxton. Her knife was something of a security blanket for her. She needed to know it was close for her peace of mind. But Saxton was a far better protector.
She realized that she hadn’t responded to him. She didn’t know what else to say, so she said, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”
Het let out an audible sigh. “I’m sure this can’t be easy. Even the girls who screw on the streets, you can always tell they hate doing it. Why do men keep paying? Who knows. I’m just as guilty.”
“I don’t think I could ever do that,” she whispered.
“Obviously.”
Her tears started to slow, but she still didn’t know what to do. Try to go back out there and have sex with him, even if she was freaking out over it?
“I tried to make it not feel like that,” he said.
“You did. Thank you for that. But I still know…”
“I know.” There was a soft thump, like he put his head against the wall. “I don’t know why I even stayed when I knew what it was.”
“I’m glad you did,” she said. She still shuttered just thinking of who she might have ended up with if it hadn’t been for him. “I’m so grateful and that’s why—” Her sob returned, making it harder to talk. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this.”
He was quiet for a while. Then, “Is school worth it? Can’t you get financial aid or something to pay for it? Got to be some way other than putting yourself through this.”
Sara thought he needed to know the truth. She didn’t want to keep lying. Not when she already felt so bad for putting him through this. “Well…” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I didn’t tell you the whole truth earlier.”
“Okay…”
“I need the money for school. That part was true. But not my school. I have a son. He’s six and I didn’t want him to have to go to the public school. It’s so dangerous and there are to many kids and the teachers are overworked and—well, it took a lot to get him into his school. They don’t let just anyone in and I had to convince them that I could afford it and that he would work hard and be a good student.”
“Good move. Public schools suck. Trust me. First time I ever got stabbed was at school.”
Her eyes widened. Having her worst fears confirmed made her body go cold. “But the problem is, it’s just me. The school is expensive. We have a tiny place, but it still costs a lot. I work two jobs as it is, and it’s all I can do to pay the bills and feed him. I was managing okay, but then my car broke down and I had to get it fixed. I got a little behind, then I got a lot behind and…”
“You had to do something extreme to pay for it all.”
“Yeah. There was no way I’d be able to work eno
ugh to pay what I owe. Tonight would have paid the balance that’s past due, plus cover the rest of the school year. It’s a huge blessing, actually, and I feel like the biggest idiot.”
The tears started all over again. She was being stupid. She could sleep with him. She had to. Ian couldn’t be made to suffer because she had some hang up, thinking she was better than this. She wasn’t. She was a single mom who had to do whatever it took to pay the bills and give her son a good life. And this was what it took. Simple as that.
“Don’t feel like that,” he said. “I know what it’s like. My mom was a single mom. There was me and my brother. We went to public school and we ended up as complete hoodlums. He was killed when I was sixteen and he was nineteen. He’d dropped out of school and was selling drugs to help my mom pay the bills. I was running around stealing clothes and breaking into cars, in and out of juvie. It sent her to an early grave, too. Somehow, I escaped all that. I guess. I mean, what I do now, it’s not much better, really. So maybe I didn’t.”