Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1)

by Falcone, Carmen

  Luna didn’t hesitate and plopped down on the loveseat, her mouth trembling, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Could they ever be the way they once were? Kika knelt down in front of her sister. Uncertain but unwilling to stop, she reached out and hugged her. Within seconds, the tight embrace pulled a sob out of Luna’s throat, bringing more turmoil than peace. Kika scooted back a bit, to give her time.

  “I can’t cry.” Luna frowned, makeup smearing her pretty face. “It hurts when I cry.”

  Kika wiped the tears with the back of her hands, chewing her lip and no longer trying to fight her own. “Then I’ll cry for you,” she offered.

  Luna gave a nervous laughter. “Dang. For you to cry I must really look like crap.”

  Biting back a smile, Kika sniffed. “Hey I’ve always told you I was the better looking sister. Now there’s evidence.”

  “Remember that security guy from the hotel where I worked? The one I mentioned was a jerk?” Luna straightened, her hands balling into fists.

  “He did this to you?”

  Luna turned her head away. “He did it because I pushed a guest away.”

  Kika curled her hand into a fist, her fingers biting into her skin. Her chin jerked as her blood went down on a slow simmer. “That’s ridiculous. Who in the world does that?”

  “Kika… the guest was also…a client. I’ve been moonlighting as a high-end call girl.”

  Call girl. The word hit her like a rock to the chest. She struggled to pull a breath, sagging her shoulders against the back of the sofa and stilling her blood. Call girl. Couldn’t be. But the honesty in Luna’s eyes never failed. Her sister had never been a good liar. And right now, a selfish part of Kika almost wished that she was.

  “Why?” She pushed the question out of her Nevada desert-dry throat. The image of the hot Aussie she bedded formed in her mind, and she shook it away. Living a fantasy for one night had to be different than selling your body over and over. Whether she was being hypocrite or pragmatic, she’d work that out later.

  “Tia Rosa slipped in her tub and broke her hips. She has no insurance, and she needed a hip replacement surgery fast. She was in a lot of pain.” Luna wept. “A couple of other girls at work do it, and they’re making tons of money.”

  “Couldn’t she apply for Medicaid?”

  “She isn’t a citizen, remember? That would have been even worse.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about our aunt?”

  “I assumed you didn’t have the cash, either.” Luna shrugged. “I’ve only done it for two months. I just wanted to pay Tia Rosa’s bills. Omar, the security guy, runs a very tight scheme. He’s never hit me before. Last night, I refused to go with a client and he pulled me to the side after my shift for a cozy chat. You should have seen the man, though. So rude and acting like—”

  A red veil burned the edges of her sight. Kika stood and held out her hand. “Luna, we have to press charges against him.” She threw her shoulders. “Now.”

  Luna wrapped her arms around herself as if her skinny arms could protect her from common sense. “Only if I want to get jailed too. Don’t you know prostitution is illegal in Vegas?”

  Ironically, it was legal anywhere else in the state of Nevada. Talk about being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. Kika rubbed her forehead, the race in her pulse surpassing the jumbled thoughts in her head. How could she help Luna? “There has to be something we can do. Maybe talk to someone at the hotel?”

  “What do you think they’ll do when they find out?” Luna said with a strangled voice. She used the back of her hand to wipe the new tears rimming her eyes. “I still owe him some money. He paid me in advance so I could take care of Tia Rosa’s bills.”

  Kika touched her chest. “How much do you owe him?”

  “Fifty-thousand dollars.” The bob making its way down Luna’s soft throat was almost palpable. “All I want to do now is work to pay him back and get out.”

  Get out? Kika paced on the floor, the circles turning smaller each time. She couldn’t let her sister go out there anymore.

  “You can’t get out like this.” She’d failed Freddy. She’d be damned if she failed Luna. “How does it work?”

  “All negotiations must go through Omar. He has contacts.”

  Kika halted. “I need to talk to this Omar.”

  “Are you crazy?”

  Kika drew a deep breath, her determination firm like iron. She’d find a way to protect Luna and get her out of the ring unscathed. “That sounds about right.”

  Chapter Four

  His phone vibrated on the bedside table. Without bothering to look at the caller ID, Ryan stretched his hand and grabbed it. He flicked on speaker mode. “Hello.”

  “Ryan? Did I wake you? It’s ten o’clock.” Charlotte giggled on the other side of the line.

  Rubbing his eyes, he opened them and with a quick glance around, discovered himself alone in his bedroom. Kika’s scent clung to the rumpled sheets, the only evidence that she hadn’t been a dream. He sat upright with a start. Last night. The woman. The sex. No, the amazing sex. “Sorry, I had a rough night.” He coughed, and hoped his voice would resemble that of an awakening person soon.

  Silence. “Is everything okay?” Charlotte cleared her throat.

  “Yeah, everything is fine, don’t worry.” He surged to his feet and grabbed his boxers from the chair. “I didn’t fall off the wagon in the city of sin.” He attempted to inject some humor in his voice. Truth was, he had indulged a different type of a sinful act.

  “Good.” His sister breathed into the phone. “I have a favor to ask. Blake’s best man had a ski accident in the Alps. He’s fine, but won’t be able to make it to the wedding.”

  Ryan scratched his head and yawned. “And?”

  “I know you’re not my fiancé’s biggest fan, but can you please rise to the occasion and be his best man?” Charlotte asked, injecting some energy at the end. “For me?”

  His best man? “You’re kidding me, right?” He snorted. Even through a phone line, he could imagine his sister drumming her fingers on the phone, pacing on her apartment overlooking Bondi Beach. “It would mean a lot to me. Like your blessing. Like you wanted to see me happy.”

  “Of course I wanna see you happy, Charlotte. That’s the most important thing.” He sighed, and heard another breathing sound from the other side of the line. This time, a lengthier silence stretched, and he switched the button to remove the electric blinds and within a second, daytime Vegas unveiled in front of him. Even from the height, he saw what groups of tourists and scattered solicitors swarming the streets. The day was overcast, with clouds swarming the gray sky yet no chance of rain. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thanks. I met Lynn for lunch.”

  “Nice.” He focused his attention at the groups of people crossing the streets. A couple of white limos rode through the taxis. “How is she?” Drawing back, he turned around and inhaled. He knew damn well how his ex girlfriend was.

  “Great,” Charlotte said, and breathed into the phone so hard that it sounded like a bloody windstorm had swept through the device. “She’s pregnant. I just…wanted to tell you in case you—”

  Damn his sister. He hated that sweet condescending voice she made whenever she was about to tell him something he wouldn’t like hearing. Ryan shoved his hands in his hair, his fingers rubbing the scalp. Pregnant. What was he supposed to say? “Good for her. Listen, I have to get something to eat. Catch you later?”

  “Yes, of course. Will you let me know about the wedding party?”

  “You bet. Bye.” He tossed his phone on the bed, and shook his head at how Charlotte was probably overanalyzing his short goodbye. She was a pro at that. Little did she know the only emotion Lynn, his sister’s best friend, still evoked was a slight missed opportunity. It could have been him, the guy who married Lynn. But he hadn’t been. And although he’d forgiven himself—or told himself that—meeting Lynn face-to-face brought back memories he’d rather bury d
eeper than the Grand Barrier Reef.

  Enough. Last night he had screwed up both figuratively and literally. He’d had that delectable woman in his bed, who left him yearning for more. But even that move didn’t give him any answers about the illegal organization that Blake was possibly a part of.

  Scratching his head, he took a deep breath and headed for the shower, switching the cold water on. He shouldn’t have slept with Kika, that hadn’t been part of the plan. Whoever she was, she owed him more than that. And he wasn’t talking just about answering questions.

  ***

  “Waitress, may I have another Grey Goose?” the short fellow with bug eyes and a German accent asked, swinging his empty glass on her tray.

  “Sure.” An impatient sigh in lieu of a customer service oriented smile flew past her lips. Oh well. She’d made the decision her sister couldn’t show up at work with her face smashed, so she’d endured wearing the skintight golden mini dress uniform from Luna. For the past two hours, all she did was roam the upscale Casino and look at the spot where Douchebag Omar was supposed to be. She wanted to talk to him, face to face. If he thought for a moment he’d intimidate her like he did her sister, then he had another one coming.

  Times like this she wished she’d lived in the same place long enough to establish better credit, or had invested in savings. She had a few thousand dollars in her checking account, but not only would she fall short to pay the money Luna owned…they needed cash to leave Vegas. There was no way she’d agree to her sister living here, with the possibility of that creepy man threatening and beating her ever again.

  She thought about calling Elena in New York, but was it fair? Elena had a lot on her plate as it was—in the middle of a divorce against her traditional values, Italian family’s wishes. How could she even begin to explain everything that was going on? No. Maybe in person, in the near future.

  A couple more trips to the restaurant in those high heels and she spotted the tall, burly dark man wearing a well-cut black suit working the floor, with a hint of a smile on his round face. Leaving the tray on an empty chair, she strode to him, her heart thumping the closer she got. The throbbing of her feet from standing up for hours in stilettos was nothing compared to the knot clenching her stomach.

  She curled her fingers into a fist, narrowed her eyes, and clamped her lips together. Her willpower warred with common sense; there was no way this whole thing would end well. I have to be here for her. She hadn’t saved Freddy, however now it’d be different. Even if her reasoning was a lot more selfish than Luna could ever guess. Maybe a tad late to redeem her bad karma, but, shit, this had to help.

  She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

  Omar gave her a quick once-over and smirked. “Some fancy ass make-up you must have. Well, I’m glad you thought things over.”

  “I’m not Luna, you stupid idiot. I’m her twin sister, Kika.”

  Omar’s face paled, and a frown dipped between his manicured eyebrows. He discreetly nudged her elbow, even though there weren’t many people around. Her sister had told her lunch time was when most guests headed to the buffets, to check out the shops, or buy tickets for the shows. They stood a few feet from the scattered crowd in the casino grounds.

  She jerked away from him. “Do you think I’m stupid? If you want to go all Chris Brown on me, think again. You lay one slimy finger on me and I’m calling the cops.”

  “And risk putting your sister in jeopardy?” He snorted.

  “And you.” She produced a fake smile. “Listen, she wants out. Since you slapped her silly last night, the least you could do is to let her go. We’re going out of town, we won’t tell anyone about your…side business.”

  His hearty, sarcastic chuckle echoed in her ears, the look in his eyes more menacing than his burly frame. “It’s not that easy. You’re high if you think I’m the big boss. We’re all working for the man, sweetheart. One way or another.” Omar glanced around them, and leaned closer, poison dousing his voice. “If I tell them that she’s out, without paying her dues, they’ll find her wherever she is.”

  Her stomach clenched, but she lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness. “How do you expect her to come to work? Her face looks like a monkey’s ass.”

  In silence he assessed her, an unwelcome grin forming on his lips. “But not yours.”

  “Excuse me?” She threw her shoulders back, unwilling to connect the dots. Had he just suggested she could, er, replace her sister in the biblical sense?

  “If you work it, you can have the fifty-thousand dollars back to me in a week or so. I won’t tell my boss about the switch. No one has to know.” His low voice had the opposite effect once she registered his words. It made an obnoxious noise resound in her brain. If I work it?

  “I can’t… There are other ways I can get that money together.” Robbing a bank. Shooting a porno. At this point, she was even considering working as an anal bleacher. Though that probably paid crap—no pun intended.

  “I don’t care how you get it. Unless you or her show up for work—” He put his hand to his earpiece and held a hand up for her to be quiet while he listened. “I’ll be right back.”

  Asshole. She folded her arms and watched him stride out of sight, leaving her more at a loss than when she’d come.

  “Fancy seeing you here,” said a deep masculine voice behind her, the Australian twang both familiar and dreadful. She swung on her heels to face Ryan.

  “Hi,” she pushed past her lips, and her breath heaved as if her body recalled the luscious doings of last night even faster than she had. A senseless excitement swooshed through her, and she lifted her shoulders and straightened her posture. Trying, in her lame ass way, to fight the reactions her body recklessly threw at her.

  She let her gaze trail over him, with the laziness of a painter stroking her brush over a blank canvas. He quirked his lips at the corner of his sensual mouth, igniting memories from where those lips had been. Her skin prickled, and she clamped her mouth to keep from saying anything stupid. Or moaning.

  How did her hormones sizzled in high alert without any physical contact? As a strategy, she’d stashed the reminiscences of being in his bed in a special drawer. I have other issues to worry about. Her libido wasn’t one of them. Though having him before her jeopardized her self-control. She curled her fingers into a fist, wrestling over the need to touch him.

  Ryan tilted his head, and amusement flickered in his deep turquoise eyes. Did he know just how much he affected her? “You left in a hurry. I never got to—”

  “Listen, I’m working, so if you excuse me.”

  His smile broadened with a pang of mockery as he glanced around them. Besides an old man talking to the shining coin slot a few feet away, no one else around them. “Are you waitressing or working working?”

  Of course. Because he thinks I’m a hooker. She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “I told you last night I wasn’t done with you.”

  Heat liquefied in her belly, traveling down to the place between her legs that should have no say in this. None. Not when her sister’s life was in danger.

  She parted her lips, then clamped them shut. Explaining he’d imagined her to be someone else would only make matters worse. He’d know there was another one, the real call girl, and she was just the slutty pathetic sister with nothing better to do. Worse, she’d expose Luna’s reality, when she should lay low and find a way to get the mullah. If last night he had been a distraction, today he was a liability.

  “I don’t have time for you,” she said, lifting her shoulders. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would ever tell off a hunky man like that.

  He stepped closer. “Then make time for me. Make me your only customer for the remainder of my stay.”

  “Come again?” Couldn’t be right, could it? Am I really that good in the sack? God. Look at me. Setting women back fifty years.

  “I’ll be in town the next few days and sharing isn’t my thing. Even for a tempor
ary arrangement. How much would you charge to entertain me for a few days?” he asked, his tone steady and face straight like they discussed a business deal, and not the carnage of whatever dignity she had left.

  A few days? Her stomach clenched as if a freaking elephant sat on it. Was his insistence a compliment or an insult? “Time is money. Fifty-thousand dollars,” she blurted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hands perched on her waist. No way in hell he’d agree, but at least she’d get him off her back.

  “Deal,” he said without blinking, and brought his hands together. “How does it work?”

  Say what? She blinked a few times, forcing her jaw to stay closed and not drop to the floor. “I need some upfront.”

  “I’ll give you half now and half when you’re done. To make sure you stick around.”

  “I’ll go to your room after six.” She crossed her arms, forcing a shield between the blazing surprise rushing through her veins and the man in front of her.

  “Why not now?” The man offered her a casual shrug and a close lipped smile. He leaned forward, but she didn’t step back. Even though his ginormous frame was too close for comfort, the sexy energy swirling between them like a third party.

  Am I really going through with this? She licked her lips, and decided to ignore the knots in her stomach. “Because patience is a virtue.” And she needed time to get used to the…idea. This time, it wouldn’t all be over after one night.

  A chuckle flew past his lips. “What I want to do with you, my sultry vixen, is far from virtuous.” Upping his eyebrow, he assessed her with such intimacy, her body roared. His gaze slid over her face, her arching breasts and at last, her fidgety hands. “Quite the opposite.”

  “Good. You’ll have enough time to think it over. Also, I spend nights at home. I mean, I’m assuming we wouldn’t do sleeping anyway, but I have to go back to my place after we’re”—she cleared her throat. Twice—“done screwing.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s personal.” She rubbed her palms together. Sure, she could totally see how he’d want to get his money’s worth, but she couldn’t leave her sister to her own device. At least for a nightcap, she had to go back and keep her company.