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He pushes back my hair. “What are you laughing at?”
“I honestly don’t think I will get enough of this.”
Dawson’s hand stills as it traces my jawline. I sense the shift in him before he continues the movement. And it’s nice, almost like being petted.
“Right. You owe me a story about this.” I point atthe tattoo that I doubt anyone suspects resides under his clothes.
“You want to ask about that and not the one of your lips near my cock?”
I shrug. “I was there for that.”
He huffs out a humorous breath. “It’s not a nice story, Honey,” he says, pushing back my hair thoughtfully.
I grab his hand. “Stop trying to show me only the nice sides. I want to know about the warts and all.”
His lip kicks up in an amused smile. “I don’t have any warts.”
“You’re deflecting.”
He sighs. “I considered getting it lasered off once. I was young when I had it inked. Angry with the world and the hand I got dealt. I thought a tattoo would make me… I don’t know… scarier... less desirable, maybe.”
I frown. “Why would you want to be scarier or less desirable?”
He averts his gaze, and it’s the first time he’s ever looked away from me. I cup his cheek, and the tender touch brings him back to me. He seems hesitant to continue, but I say nothing, slowly and patiently drawing it out of him.
“When I was fifteen, I was forced into the industry. My mother and I both.”
My brows furrow. “When you say the industry…”
“We were prostitutes. I was fifteen when I was first forced to take on aclient. We had no money, and my mother got caught up with the wrong people. And for payment, they not only took her but said I had a pretty face and physique, so it was decided I would help her pay off her gambling debt.”
Ice runs through my veins.
“So I dutifully performed for three years and got this stupid tattoo, thinking it would deter customers.”
“Dawson, that’s awful.” I feel tears prick at my eyes.
“It’s not as bad as some have it. Some don’t even make it out alive. There was another guy my age. We hung out a lot, trying to get through it. My mother and I were able to buy out of our debt by the time I turned eighteen, but he wasn’t able to. And I hated that. I hated that everything was taken from us.
“It’s never just sex. It’s a give and take. But there’s so much money in it. After her debt was cleared, my mother moved on. I’ve always hated her for putting us in that position. I provide for her to live a luxurious lifestyle now. But I still hate her.”
I stroke my thumb over his clenched jaw. Could anyone blame him? I now feel guilty for all of those times I thought ill of him. “So why did you s-stay?” My voice breaks, and his gaze snaps to mine. He offers a wavering smile as he absentmindedly wipes my tears.
“At eighteen, I had no other skillset, so I went into escorting and realized I was good at it. And I thought if I could create a safe place for the transaction to happen, then perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe I couldearn back all of that money if not more than what was traded for my services involuntarily for those three years.”
It dawns on me then, his hesitation around my virginity. I suspected there was a deeper reason, but this is horrible. “The virgin thing?” I need to know. Need to confirm.
He sighs. “I agree it makes a fuck ton of money with the right clients. Mine was bought for one hundred dollars, and it was a fifty-year-old woman.”
I bring my hand up to my mouth in shock.
He tucks my hair back behind my ear. “I don’t want you feeling sorry for me, Honey. It’s made me the person I am today. It’s the reason why I protect my staff and have built a lucrative business. Contracts and all. But no, I never wanted to touch a virgin because of that. It was… unappealing to me.”
I furrow my brows and can feel the tears spilling down my cheeks. “So why did you take mine?” I feel bad.
Had it been painful for him?
Did he regret it?
