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Her gaze shifts down. “I’ve never had an orgasm.”
“Not even. . . .”
“No.”
“What the hell kind of lazy asshole have you been fucking who didn’t make sure you got off before he did?”
Her cheek hollows, and I know she’s gnawing the inside of her mouth raw as she thinks about what to say. “Sex was more like a payment. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”
It’s then I remember Mary said she had experience in sex work. Jesus fuck. I had all but dismissed the idea before because Vivi isn’t like the other women at the Honey Pot. She’s shy and timid. When we stood outside the Nature Room that one time, her cheeks flamed red at what she was seeing. Those aren’t things that happen with any of the courtesans around here.
“You sold yourself?” I ask.
“Basically.”
“That’s not safe, Vivi.” My chest tightens at the idea of her approaching random men without protection.
“You have no idea,” she mutters.
“Don’t do that again.” I turn her to face me. “I’m fuckin’ serious. If you need money, I’ll help you figure it out.”
“I will never accept handouts. Ever. And you’re already helping me by giving me this job.”
I settle back against the headboard, feeling relieved she doesn’t have to sell herself anymore. She’s here. Safe. With me. I couldn’t ask for more. Well, maybe I could, but I won’t.
“Have you spoken to your mom?”
“Yeah, she texts me every day and says she’s fine.”
“But you don’t believe her,” I say.
“No. I don’t. That’s why I wanted to see her this weekend. I know you don’t want me to, but I promised to go next weekend. Just Saturday night, and I’ll be back Sunday morning.”
“I’m worried about Ray.”
“I’ll be okay.” Her voice goes quiet and deep. “I know how to handle him.”
“Can you go during the week? I have a charity run next weekend.”
Her brows furrow. “What’s a charity run?”
“The club picks an organization, and we travel around, raising money at each stop. It’s a win-win situation because the Sons get good press, and the organization gets a huge donation.”
“That’s amazing,” she says.
“You look surprised.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m just. . . impressed, I guess.” She smiles softly, and it hits me just how beautiful this woman is. It fucking hurts to look at her, knowing I can never have her, knowing she’d never return my affection.
“I’m glad something I do impresses you.”
Our eyes meet, and our gazes hold for a long moment. I stop breathing, held under a spell that’s been brewing since she walked back into my life. She bites her bottom lip, smiling softly, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think she wanted me to kiss her. There’s no way that could be right.
Is it?
“There’s actually a lot about you that amazes me.” Her words come out slow and weighted. “Like the Honey Pot.”
Without realizing it, we’re both leaning in, drawn together by an invisible pull. I should get up and walk away. She’s drunk, or at least buzzed, and I don’t know if this is real. I want to believe it is. I want to believe that everything that’s been building in me has been building in her, too.
