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Was he going to hurt her?
They walked closer to me, and it wasn’t until he stopped at a motorcycle and turned to sit down on it—not to ride it, as he sat sideways on the seat with both his feet still on the ground—that the moonlight hit his face. I sucked in a sharp breath. I knew that face. I’d let myself imagine it and put it into my fantasies several times the past two weeks.
He took off his leather jacket and tossed it onto the ground in front of him, then said something to the girl, and she sank down onto her knees. Oh my God. Unable to look away, I watched as she began unbuckling his jeans, and then he stood so she could pull them down until his penis came out. I covered my mouth with one hand. Even from here, it looked intimidating.
Would that thing fit in a vagina?
Levi grabbed the woman’s blonde hair and fisted it tightly, then shoved her face down on his erection.
“Holy crap,” I whispered.
The girl put her hands on his knees, but wasn’t fighting him. She was letting him jerk her head back and forth. I lifted my eyes up to his face. His neck was so thick and muscular. The look on his face was fierce. I squirmed, watching him. The man was gorgeous when he wasn’t getting a blow job. But seeing him being pleasured, he was like a god.
His eyes snapped open, and his gaze swung in my direction, but he wasn’t looking at me. I heard my sister’s voice and knew she was at the car. I should look away or hide before he realized I’d been watching him like a creeper. His eyes locked on me then, and I couldn’t tear mine away. It was as if he had commanded me to watch him.
I swallowed hard and felt my breathing pick up. Why was he still looking at me?
The driver’s door opened, and that snapped me out of whatever hold this man had had on me.
“Fucking Levi. We have perfectly good rooms he can use inside for that shit,” Irish grumbled, getting into the car.
I studied my hands in my lap.
“Were you watching them?” Irish asked me. Her voice sounded condemning.
Seriously? She was a stripper. She didn’t get to judge me for watching a sexy man get oral sex.
“It was kinda hard not to,” I replied sarcastically.
“God, Aspen. That man is dangerous. He does not need to see you watching Cookie suck him off.”
Cookie? She couldn’t have come up with a better stripper name than Cookie? It was as bad as Kitty. If I stripped, I would want something more exotic. Unique.
“How do you feel?” Irish asked me, starting up the car.
“Fine. Just like I told you at the house.”
“You have a fever. You’re not fine.”
This was going to set me back from getting free of her house. No volunteer work for me. No job. Just more binge-watching. At least I had my scorpion handstand perfected. Not even Irish could do that one. I could be a yoga instructor when I was finally set free. God knew I was getting enough practice.
“Did that man come to the house a couple of weeks ago?” Kitty asked as we drove away.
“The blow-job guy?” I asked, already knowing that was who she meant. I hadn’t told her about it because I was afraid she’d be mad I’d opened the door.
“Yes,” she replied in a tight voice.
Clearly, she knew I was being difficult.
“That might have been him.”
“Might have? As in you didn’t see his face?”
I groaned in frustration. I was trying to tell a white lie and get away with it. Why did she need details?
“Probably.”
“Aspen, that is not an answer. Did that man come to the house when I was gone, and did you open the door?”
