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The smile on my face turns into a sneer. “Is this the part where I tell you about how I was poor too and we bond about eating PB&Js and wearing hand-me-downs?”
“Huh? No—”
“I don’t want to talk about childhoods. It’s all in the past and doesn’t matter.” I sit up and snatch the remote, pressing different buttons to explore the movie and TV show options.
Louis sits still for a moment and watches me.
My heart’s beating fast and my stomach flutters. I don’t know when it happened, but I’m nervous. It feels like I’m about to be discovered any moment.
He’s going to call me out.
“Tasha, did I offend you? I was just trying to get to know more about you.”
“Why do you like me, Louis?” I snap. “I don’t get it. I’m mean to you. I’m a bitch, like now. I’m only going to keep pushing you away. The second you get on that plane, I’m going back to work. You know that, right?”
He shrugs. “You’re a good person. You pretend you’re not. But you are.”
“How would you know?” I ask at the same time I let out a laugh. “You just said you’re trying to get to know me—youdon’tknow me. You keep ignoring my warnings. I’m going to run circles around you and then leave you.”
“What’s the matter with you? Why do you talk about yourself like you’re some kind of curse?”
I roll my eyes ’til they’re stuck on the ceiling. Really, it’s an excuse. Just something to stare at so I don’t have to look at him and so I can ignore the way they itch.
I’m not a crier. It should be easy.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m a hustler. Money is all that matters to me. You agreed you wouldn’t try to change me. If you’re still interested, then that’s on you.”
He grabs me by the arms and pulls until my body’s twisting toward him and my gaze slides to his. “Still interested. It doesn’t hurt that you’re sexy as hell.”
We kiss. Our lips touch in a slow, sweet kiss that makes the nerves disappear. Instead of my heart beating faster, it settles into a safe rhythm again. By the time we’re breaking apart, I’m feeling like such an asshole, I bite my lip and heave a deep sigh.
“Louis, I’m so sorry. Seriously, I don’t mean to snap at you. It’s just… it’s some kind of defensive mechanism. I can’t even explain it. It’s not you. It’s all me. My childhood wasn’t good. My mom was an addict and it caused a lot of problems. The start of all the fucked up things about me.”
“Say no more. We don’t got to talk about it now. How about another movie and some more cheesecake?”
“There’s only one slice left.”
“Good thing we can share.”
I smile. “That works.”
EIGHT
Tasha
PLAYLIST: ? I.C.C.Y.M.F.L. - TANERÉLLE FEATURING NEON PHOENIX & CITY JAMES ?
I replaceevery client’s face with Louis’s face. The men I dance for on stage at the Dollhouse are all Louis. The VIPs who pay for private services later in the night are him too.
As weeks go by, I count the days ’til his return. I tell myself it’s so I don’t have to work at the club for a whole week—the number of days Louis usually visits for—but that’s not the only reason.
Louis is fun to be around. I like spending time with him. He makes me laugh and we can chill for hours and barely notice the time passing. He fucks me better than any man has ever fucked me in my life.
I’m fantasizing about him as Mr. Man, a regular of mine, fucks me. Normally, I try to give my customers the best experience possible. I’m active and engaged the entire time. Tonight, my mind’s too lost in my imagination of Louis, preventing me from doing anything except laying still like a starfish.
Mr. Man is older. In his late fifties, he suffers from a bad back, hypertension, and a small dick. He tries his best, putting effort in his thrusts. Beastly grunts rumble from him like he’s beating my pussy up better than anybody ever has, despite the fact I could easily fall asleep right now.
It’s my fault—I tend to hype him up. Moan and shudder and gyrate along with him like he’s really doing something. All part of my performance to please him and give him a good experience as my client.
