Fractured Breaths(7)

By: Zoey Derrick

I dip down until my ass is rubbing on his crotch. His deep intake of breath is matched by my own. Guys having hard-ons is just a part of the job, but never in the time I’ve been doing this have I felt anything like this. He's definitely packing some heat.

A spark connects between us and this dance suddenly turns into something so much more than just a little lap dance as a desire I haven’t felt in more than eight years rocks through me.

My mind races back to that night. The first night I slept with a man, willingly.

“Where’s Deets?” I ask the guy behind the wheel. I used to think his name was Vinnie, but that was just because it’s easier if I don’t ever learn their real names. Over the last couple of weeks I learned his real name is actually some crazy Italian name, but he’s called Leo for short. He has short black hair and a New York accent, typical for these parts

“He’s off tonight,” he says as he opens the back door of the Escalade.

“So you got stuck with me?” My voice betrays the relief I feel, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He gives me a shy, sly smile and a little nod that only I can see. He’s handsome. His dark hair is a contrast to his ice blue eyes.

“Good,” I give him a small smile as I slide into the back of the SUV. He closes the door and slides behind the wheel. “Where we going?” I ask, hopeful.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” His voice has a softness to it that I’m not used to, it’s oddly comforting.

“Can’t fault a girl for trying.” I smile and his eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. I slide into the center of the backseat and lean forward. “You’re not like the other guys, are you?” I ask, but he silences me with a ‘Shh’ and points to an inconspicuous spot on the dashboard.

“I’m just like them all,” he tells me, but there is something in his voice that’s different. Not just the softer edge, but the demeanor behind it. It makes me a little uneasy so I lean back in my seat and say nothing. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed when the black, unmarked vehicle pulls out behind us again.

You’d think after two weeks of being followed they’d have noticed by now, but they haven’t yet or at least they haven’t given us any indication that they have. Regardless, I sit in silence as Leo drives me toward my destination for tonight.

After twenty minutes and some obnoxious traffic, Leo pulls in front of a hotel, not one I’ve been too before and I find it rather odd Fat Tony would allow this to happen, but I let it go as Leo parks the car and turns off the ignition. “What are you-” he cuts me off with a finger to his lips, telling me to shut up.

“You’re here,” he says and climbs out of the car, skirting the front bumper to my door. He opens it and I slide out as best I can in the super tight, charcoal grey shift dress. My heels click against the concrete as I do. Leo, ever the gentleman, extends his hand to me and I take it as he helps me out of the vehicle. He wraps his hand around my waist, pulling me against him. His erection presses between us along the small of my back. I groan as real desire rushes through my veins.

“Where’d you go?” A deep voice interrupts my memory and I am suddenly back in the dingy strip club and I’m no longer dancing.

“I’m sorry, I…” What do I tell him?

“Don’t worry about it,” he says softly as the song ends.

“No, I have to worry about it.” Panic rises as I realize I never finished my dance for him. Shit. The next song starts and its Britney Spears’s ‘I’m a Slave 4 U’ and I do my best to make up for the first one. “This one’s on me.” I give him a reassuring smile but he’s not buying it. His eyes are searching mine, hoping to see something in them and it makes me even more uneasy. But I do my best, giving him what he’s paying for.

Breaking eye contact with him leaves me feeling cold and alone, but I can’t bring myself to turn around and look at him again. There is some part of me that feels like he’s going to see right through my façade and read all my secrets. We can’t have that.