And some of them were dark and wicked. And I could live with that. But having this creepy man in my room at two o’clock in the morning is not something I can live with.
I look around the room, searching for my phone.
Where did I put it?
I can’t find it, so I head to the door to show him out.
He blocks my retreat and tosses me on the bed.
If my skin crawled and I had a bad feeling before, now I’m experiencing a full-fledged panic attack. This is more serious than I thought, and my alarms start going off in my head.
“Who’s paying you?” he grumps.
“Excuse me?”
He turns his eyes to me, his face wrinkled with a grimace.
“Listen, doll. I’ve seen tons of women like you, and I know what you do for a living. You’re not fooling me with your spunky attitude and job description. You think I’m stupid? I was on your floor for like fifteen minutes, and I’ve seen more traffic at your door than the airport on a Friday morning.”
“What??”
He gestures, annoyed.
“Spared me. Two men left your room, and a third man came a few minutes later.”
I turn to stone.
That was like two hours ago. Is this man stalking me now?
“He just left,” he drones on, confirming my suspicion.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask, holding my robe closed over my chest.
“I was wondering about you.”
He closes the space between us and brings his hand to my hair.
I swat it away, garnering a smirk from him.
“I’ve slipped a thing or two to Bob. He knows what you’re actually doing. He never denied it, I mean. You think you’re so smart doing what you do.”
“How is that your fucking business?” I growl through my locked teeth.
“How is this my business??”
His sneer is followed by a gross chuckle.
“You’re right. It’s not my business. It’s yours. And I want to pay you, too. What do you think? Or better yet. You do me for free…”
He laughs as if it’s a good joke.
“Do you know that prostitution is illegal?” he continues.
I don’t know where to start.
Still hyperventilating, I muster enough power and snarl.
“Get the hell out of my room, stupid dick. I’m not a prostitute.”