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No!
Ugh!
Fucking idiot!
“Get off me,” I snap. “You’re literally the most irresponsible man I’ve ever met!”
He pulls away, frowning at me. “What? I’m clean.”
I shove at him until I’m standing on my own two feet. His cum runs out of me and down my thigh, thick and potent. Motherfucker.
“I’m not on the pill, asshole!” I slap at his chest again for good measure.
When he gives me his arrogant, smug half-grin, I want to murder him.
“We’re over. Have been for some time,” I nearly yell at him.
His features harden. “We’ll never be over.”
“You have two seconds to get the hell out of here and out of my life,” I screech, scrambling to pick up my panties and slide them on.
“Autumn,” he says with a frown, tucking his wet cock back in his jeans and fastening them. “Listen.”
“One,” I threaten as I slide my panties into place and snag up my bra.
“We need to talk.”
“Two…”
“Autumn…”
“You’ve already done enough damage,” I spit out as I throw on my bra. “Please leave before you cost me my job too.”
He glowers at me for a long, hard second before storming out of the box back room. I tremble, worrying if anyone saw him enter or leave. I attempt to compose myself and suck in several gulps of air.
Stupid, woman. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!
I snatch up the money he left, feeling disgusting and cheap for doing it, but not dumb enough to leave it for someone else to take.
Shakily, I creak open the door and peek outside. There’s no one in the hallway, which makes me wonder where Paul went. I slip out the room and head back toward the dressing room. I push into the dressing room and let out a shriek to find John sitting by my bag, an angry scowl on my face.
Shit. Oh, shit.
John’s gaze slides up and down my body. His jaw clenches as he rises to his feet. Panic shoots through me.
“You’ve been giving guys free shows?” he asks, stalking toward me.
I shake my head in vehemence. “W-What? No!”
“You let them touch you?”
“Never.” Not a lie. There is no them. Just him. Just Lucca.
“You let them fuck you?”
“John, no—”
Stars glitter across my vision, and it takes a second to realize he backhanded me. He grabs my throat hard and slams me up against the dressing room door. My head bangs against the wood, dizzying me further.
Tears streak down my cheeks, ruining my makeup. I don’t care. All I want to do is get out of here. The money flutters from my hand when John squeezes my throat and I claw at his wrist.
“You think it’s okay to lie straight to my face? Like I don’t have cameras every-fucking-where?” he snarls, the whiskey on his breath nauseating.
“John, please,” I wheeze out.
His hand comes between my thighs, and he rubs me over my sore pussy through my panties. “This makes you a whore, Summer. You put on this whole good girl act, but this shit right here—a paying customer’s cum running out of your used-up cunt—makes you a fucking whore.”
All I can do is sob as he rubs at my pussy. But unlike Lucca, who sets my body on fire, John makes me shut down. I feel like I’m going to pass out.
“You’re out of the box,” he says sharply. “I’ll let you keep your fucking job because I know you need it and you’ve never messed up before, but the box is no longer available. You’ll work the pole where I can watch your every move. Consider this probation.”
More tears leak from my eyes.
“Unless,” he utters, teasing his finger beneath the fabric.
I stiffen, terrified he’ll stick his finger inside me. All he does is tease.
“Unless you wanted to work something out?” He smiles as he releases my throat and steps away.
Shaking my head sharply, I press my back farther against the door. “I-I won’t do it again. I’m s-sorry. It was n-nothing.”
His features darken. He’s clearly pissed I don’t want to fuck him so he’ll forgive me. I just want to get the hell out of here.
“The pole,” he threatens.
The pole sure as hell beats his pole.
“I understand.” I lift my chin and meet his evil stare. “The pole it is.”
I step away from the door, and he storms out of the dressing room. Quickly, I pick up the money, then start throwing on my clothes, trying my hardest not to lose it to hysterics. My throat is tender, and I know it’s going to bruise. And in that moment, I’m not thinking about how customers will see. Or how John might see them and feel bad. Or even how Lucca might see.
Tenderly, I touch my throat and sob.
I’m thinking of Christian and how he will see.
I’m so sorry.
Everything about her was familiar, yet new.
Her taste—touch—scent. She’s always been my weakness, and she proved tonight I’m hers. It’s been six years, yet we still burn like wildfire.
