“I said no. You know there’s a zero-tolerance policy for harassment here.”
That was one of the positives about the way Nolan operated. He didn’t put up with us being sexually harassed. It was one service he offered for the money we gave him.
“Then just let me watch.” Julius stroked harder, panting. “I won’t touch you.”
Fuck. As long as he didn’t touch me. After everything I’d done since before I fell under Nolan’s protection, I wasn’t the least bit prude. I turned my back to him, hitched my leg onto the bench, and worked the dildo into my ass. My cock was hard, but I wasn’t looking to get off. All I needed was for things to be nice and easy back there, so some eager guy who didn’t take the time to stretch me didn’t wreck my ass in his haste to get inside me.
“Fuck,” Julius grunted, and I turned my head. He was shooting his load inside the shower stall. Eww. I skittered back. No touching meant no touching; that included his cum.
“Go now, pervert.”
He gave me a lazy smile. “One of these days, Kit, you’re going to spread that sweet little ass and beg me to come inside you.”
As if.
This time, he left for good, whistling on his way out. I quickly finished my prep and dried off before anyone else came into the bathroom.
Nothing was sadder than a lonely hooker who stood out, but in this instant, I didn’t mind. To put some distance between myself and the “mean hooker crew,” spearheaded by none other than Stu, I’d given up my favorite spot to hang, directly under the streetlight so the men who came looking could get a good idea of what they didn’t know they needed until they saw me.
The lighting where I stood might have been poor, but I’d already bagged two amazing tippers for the night, even though they were just good old blow jobs. One was a regular, and all he ever wanted were BJs. He wore a gold band on his third finger and tipped big as if offering penitence for doing something wrong. He would always whisper “sorry” and that it was his last time before he left.
He always came back. Eventually, the guilt wore off, and he returned for the little pleasure he afforded himself.
“Why don’t you take off the ridiculous costume, bitch? You’re scaring the clients away.”
I groaned at Stu’s taunt from a couple of feet away from where he stood in my spot. Everyone loved my soft pink-and-white kitty ears and the matching collar. Maybe if they wore fun costumes, they would get more attention.
“Did you hear what I just said, bitch?”
Ooh, if he calls me bitch one more time…
A car driving toward our spot slowed down. Temporarily distracted, Stu stepped in all his hooker glory. He approached the car, which stopped. I knew little about cars, but the shiny black exterior and sleek look made it obvious the owner had money. Good. If the driver picked Stu, he would feel better about himself and leave me alone for a while.
Stu stepped back onto the pavement. The two other boys in his entourage took a step forward, then moved back again too. Huh. What was going on? Even from a distance, the displeased, sour expression on Stu’s face wasn’t hard to miss.
The driver revved his engine, and the car shot forward past me. About half a block away, it slowed down, reversed, and stopped—right next to me.
Oh shit. If I go with this guy, Stu and his friends who got rejected would hate me even more than they already did.
The window on the passenger’s side rolled down. The interior light flicked on, showing off the deep red of the seats. I tugged at my kitty ears.
“Get in.”
The rich baritone reminded me of chocolate dripping down a strawberry.Absolutely decadent.
“I’m sorry. I have another client.”
Oh god, I’m so stupid. Why do I care if Stu and his friends hate me?
“You sure about that? I’ll make it worth your while.”
The driver lowered his head so I could see him more clearly. The “no” got stuck in my throat. Holy fuck. He was beautiful, with high cheekbones and a classically handsome face. This wasn’t some guy who you fucked in a back alley. This was a guy you took home to meet your parents and promised you a happily ever after, even if you didn’t believe it existed.
The driver got out and walked around the car. He was impossibly tall, making me feel like a china doll. I couldn’t make out his face properly, but the poor lighting didn’t hide how well his suit framed his body. His parted jacket revealed a pristine white shirt beneath. The first two buttons were undone, displaying skin I wanted to see up close and personal.
Fuck, I’d been wrong. It seemed he was a fuck-me-in-the-dirty-alley sort of guy after all.
“Good evening.” He opened the door of the passenger’s side, and my mouth dropped open. Oookay, so not a fuck-me-in-the-dirty-alley guy, then. It felt good that my first assumption about him hadn’t been wrong.
“Want to join me for an entertaining evening, kitty?” he asked in that rich butterscotch voice of his.
Damn. I loved butterscotch, but him calling me kitty robbed me of the ability to breathe properly.
I glanced down the street at the guys who watched my exchange with the mysterious driver.
Screw them. It wasn’t every day I fucked someone who looked like this.
“Sounds fun.” I flashed him a full smile, the one that made my dimples stand out, and walked toward him.