Tate- I quit. 2 weeks notice starts today. Can't do it anymore.

Krista Tate knew I was planning on leaving, so two weeks' notice wasn't going to be a hardship for him. He could easily find someone else.

My car was cold. The icy vinyl seat felt good as I put my forehead on the steering wheel. I had a bit of money in the bank, enough for Becky and me to get through a couple of months with no job. We would be okay. I'd have to cancel the dance lessons, but we would survive. I had my degree now, I could find a job. Time to ratchet up the search.

I'd cried at the club. Any time I could steal away, I ended up in the storage room where I cried so f.u.c.king hard that I had to gulp for air. Then I would take some deep breaths and go back to the bar. The guys all thought I had some nasty allergies. Yeah, I was allergic to being dumped.

No one ever made me feel the way Colt did. I wanted to be with him, not just for more amazing s.e.x, but also just to have dinner, make Becky's lunch. I wanted to share my grandma's tiny crackerjack house with him. It would have been perfect.

Except I had screwed up my perfect life before it had even started.

Becky and I walked to school as usual. It was pouring, so we didn't stop to save the worms. They had to save themselves as we ran through the puddles in an effort to get to school on time.

Once Becky was settled, I headed over to the bank. Rent was due and it was always easier to pay with a cashier's check. That way I knew the money had already been taken out and there was no waiting for the check to clear. I stood in line and made it up to the counter.

"I'm sorry, miss, there's nothing in either account."

The teller must be new. I wrote down my account number again and handed it to her on a slip of paper.

"It's this account. There's a savings account and a checking account."

"Yes, miss." The girl was being disturbingly polite. "I looked up the account and it looks like Mr. Tracten removed all of the cash yesterday."

My heart stopped. No one called Robby "Mr. Tracten."

"There are two names on the account, yours and his. It was his choice to remove all of the money yesterday."

I grabbed the counter so I wouldn't fall over. When we split up, I stole his debit card from him so he couldn't clean me out. I didn't think to remove his name from the account. d.a.m.n it.

"I have no money." My heart thumped hard as it resumed beating. "How do I get it back?"

The teller blinked at me and then answered, "His name was legally on the account. He was allowed to take out as much as he wanted."

Somehow I stumbled from the bank out to my car. Rubbing my hands over my sore eyes, I tried to think of what to do. f.u.c.k. I couldn't go demand Robby give back the money. Whatever s.h.i.t he was into was deep and would end up killing him. I didn't want it to kill me too.

I had no choice-there was only one thing to do. I would have to turn tricks until my two weeks were up.

Last night I had decided that I couldn't turn tricks anymore and it wasn't because my a.s.s was getting too big or because I was getting wrinkles. It was because having s.e.x for money hurt. I wanted to have s.e.x for love.

s.e.x and love and caring, it was all wrapped up together. Colt might hate me, but two nights ago he didn't, and we made love. It wasn't s.e.x, it wasn't a quick f.u.c.k. It was the physical act of love.

The world is so f.u.c.king unfair. After being married, having a kid, and being a wh.o.r.e, I finally knew what it was to love and be loved and make love. But now I had to go back to quickies in the back room when I could no longer separate love and s.e.x.

I cranked the Honda to life and drove home. Staring at my closet, I planned out my outfit for work. Becky was gone, so I cried some more and stared at the G.o.dd.a.m.n dominatrix outfit I had laid out. I wanted to tear the f.u.c.king thing up. I didn't want to be someone's fantasy-I wanted to be someone's reality.

I couldn't tear up the stupid vinyl dress because I needed it to work, so I threw it. Against the wall, against the dresser, against the closet door, back to the wall. That dress made a lot of trips across the bedroom, each one ending in a loud thwack as the vinyl and grommets. .h.i.t the wall.

After picking up Becky, we practiced her dance routine. We read a couple of books and ate peanut b.u.t.ter and jelly sandwiches for dinner. It was a typical night, but inside I felt like a hurricane. The winds and rain and lightning blew my emotions everywhere. Becky was six, so she didn't really notice. I was able to keep my face in check as we played, but the inside of me was a level-four disaster.

After our evening ended, I took Becky over to Senora Lopez's. I should have told the elderly woman that our arrangement was going to be changing pretty soon, but I just didn't have the courage to do it. I needed every ounce of courage and confidence for tonight, because I needed to make money. Fast.

Chapter Twenty.

Krista I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my little room at the clubhouse. The skirt on my red vinyl dress was sticking out oddly to one side, probably from being thrown around the room earlier. I rummaged through the dresser, looking for another outfit.

Really, I was stalling. I didn't want to go down to the party and I sure as h.e.l.l didn't want to have s.e.x with anyone. Well, anyone except Colt.

My reflection still looked the same, but I was different on the inside. Would it be like my first time again? My first time turning a trick had been pretty awful. I started crying halfway through, but it turned out the guy liked that. Got him off faster when he knew I didn't want to be there. I cringed.

Things were so different with Colt. He wanted to be with me, and not just the me that I presented to the world in my s.l.u.tty getups. He wanted to talk to me and have s.e.x with me. He wanted to love me.

Or at least he had before he discovered I was a wh.o.r.e.

f.u.c.k him. I squared my shoulders. If he couldn't deal with the truth, then he was no better than the other johns. I was still me, no matter who had been between my legs.

Staring at myself in the mirror one last time, I nodded. The red would be fine. I could do this.

Someone knocked on my door.

Clint stood in the hallway. "Hey, baby." I smiled and leaned on the doorjamb. "You looking for a date tonight?"

Clint wasn't a regular, but he'd come around a few times. Enough times that I'd learned what he liked. I didn't let him kiss me, but he liked it when I pretended to be in love with him and enjoy myself.

We negotiated a bit on price, but finally settled just above the going rate.

"You have a room for the night?" I asked, running my hand down his body.

Nothing, I felt nothing. If I ran my hand down Colt's body, I would have reacted. But I was cold. I didn't need arousal to have s.e.x, though. I had some lube and was ready to go.

He shook his head and whispered, "I thought we could do it here. In the hall?"

d.a.m.n. Public settings were usually more money. If the guys wanted the pool table or the couch downstairs, they had to pay for the privilege. I bit my lip. I didn't think he'd go for it if I upped my price, and I couldn't afford to lose the cash.

I looked around. The hallway was empty. At least I could get through it fast. There would be no pretense; I wouldn't have to pretend I loved him.

"All right." I nodded and slipped my arms around his shoulders.

We did a little b.u.mp and grind up against the wall before we moved over to a tiny table that usually held extra towels. Really, though, it was my s.e.x table. It was d.a.m.n hard having s.e.x up against a wall, and just that little support under my a.s.s made it easier. I had a few tables for just that purpose stashed around the clubhouse.

When he was ready, I handed him a condom. I'd lathered up with lube in my room, like a prost.i.tute's version of a Boy Scout: be prepared. He popped his d.i.c.k in and started to go.

Business as usual. I could do this.

I moaned a couple of times and caressed Clint's neck and chest. "Do you like that?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," I lied. "So much, baby."

No, I didn't like it. I wanted to cry out. I wanted his hands, his mouth, his d.i.c.k to all belong to another man. I wanted Colt. I wanted to feel like I did the other night-loved. Cherished. Needed.

I heard a faint click in the distance. Clint's eyes were closed as he pumped away, so I scanned the hall. If we had a watcher, I might end up with another client later.

There was someone standing in a doorway, watching. Colt.

Our eyes met and my world went upside down. It was Colt pumping against me in the s.h.i.tty hallway of the clubhouse. His gray eyes held mine as he stroked in and out of my body. Little bits of fire shot up from between my legs to my lower back.

Tearing my eyes away from his, I leaned my head against the wall and let my o.r.g.a.s.m build. He reached up and pinched my nipple. My eyes flew open again and Colt held my gaze as I let myself go. He jerked against me as we went over the cliff.

I stopped panting and opened my eyes, looking for him. But he was gone. The door to his room was closed and I was sitting on the little table in the hallway, with Clint.

I sat up and adjusted my skirt, looking up and down the hall. Had Colt really been there? Or was I just imagining him to get through f.u.c.king Clint? I wasn't sure.

Clint stuffed his now limp d.i.c.k back in his pants and leaned against the wall. "Hey, do I get a discount since you liked it so much?"

I rolled my eyes. I'd heard that about a zillion times; I was pretty good at faking an o.r.g.a.s.m. Except this one wasn't fake. In my f.u.c.ked-up head, I had been with Colt and my body had responded.

"Sorry, baby." I held my hand out for the cash.

Clint grinned. "Gotta try."

I counted the bills and stuffed them into my bra. Clint said goodbye and headed downstairs, leaving me sitting on the little table. I climbed down and walked over to Colt's room. The door was closed and the lights off. Had he been there? I raised my hand to the k.n.o.b. Did I really want to know?

If I had come with another man inside me while Colt was watching, he would hate me even more.

My hand dropped and I stepped back. It was better to just leave this alone. Just keep what few happy memories I had of him.

I returned to my room. I needed a shower.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Colt I stared up at the ceiling and stroked my c.o.c.k. Krista had been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g that guy and I couldn't tear my eyes away. He was banging her up against the wall, but it all turned into one f.u.c.ked-up fantasy in my head. A fantasy where it was my c.o.c.k blowing into her and her moans of pleasure were for me. Only me.

I should have at least turned away, given her some privacy. But like a G.o.dd.a.m.n pervert, I'd watched the whole thing. And I liked it.

Jacking myself off was not helping. I was hard as s.h.i.t and not close to coming. It was as if my body knew what it wanted and nothing else would work.

I rolled off the bed and put on my clothes. Stuffing my d.i.c.k in my pants, I glanced in the mirror. My shirt hung low enough that I didn't think anyone would notice. There was a party raging downstairs with plenty of alcohol. A nice long drag on a bottle of whiskey would fix all this.

I hoped.

Stepping out into the hall, I saw the little metal table. It was the one she had been using for balance. I ran my fingers over the cool metal top. Whose face had she pictured when she'd closed her eyes to come? Had she been able to see me in the shadows when I was lurking?

She could be a liar and a thief, but my body didn't care. I needed her now. Even though it was f.u.c.king stupid as h.e.l.l, I walked to her door and raised my hand to knock. Through the door, I could hear water was running, probably the shower. I tried the k.n.o.b and it gave way.

Instinct told me that I shouldn't be there. It was her place, away from all her johns. It was where she kept her daughter safe when her ex had dropped by. I should turn around and walk the f.u.c.k out, but I didn't. I waited.

The bathroom door opened and she walked out in a towel.

"Colt." She whispered my name, her eyes big and round. "Why are you here?"

Her voice trembled. It must be scary as h.e.l.l seeing someone unexpected in her room.

I crossed the room in one step and stood in front of her. "I want you." I put my hand on her cheek. "I think you want me too."

She released the towel and let it pool at our feet.

I needed to brand her, show her that she was mine. I hauled her against and me and pressed my lips to hers. I thrust my tongue into her mouth, then tore away from her and held her shoulders.

"Did you kiss him?" I searched her eyes. "Tell me."

She shook her head. "No," she whispered. "I don't kiss customers."

"Kiss me," I growled. It was a f.u.c.king dare. "Show me I'm not a customer."

I crushed her to me, closed my eyes and waited. She rose up on her tiptoes and touched her lips to mine. She started in the middle, but then pressed little kisses to corners of my mouth. I opened my mouth to see what she would do next. She sucked my lower lip and ran her tongue back and forth. Then, finally, she slipped her tongue in my mouth.

She melted against me and I pressed my d.i.c.k into her belly. She rubbed it through my jeans. "Now," she pleaded.

I looked to the hallway. I had to f.u.c.king do it. I needed this. I needed to wipe clean the memory of her and the other guy.

"Wait here." I pointed at the spot where she was standing and then wrenched open the door.

There it was, the stupid f.u.c.king table. I grabbed it and dragged it into her room. I needed to make my stupid fantasy real.

She looked at the table and then back at me.

"Why?" Crossing her arms over her chest, she stepped away.

I'd lost her.

Shaking her head, she asked, "What are you trying to prove? Are you trying to punish me?"