I woke in degrees of awareness. Warmth. The sun through the blinds? But there was softness, too. A body? Definitely a body. A hand resting gently on my stomach. Then a familiar scent that always reminded me of summer on the island washed over me. Lola.
Last night hit me with the force of a two-ton truck, snippets flashing through my mind like a flip-book. From the moment I’d found her sitting alone in the church to waking up in the middle of the night, Lola astride my hips, her pussy hot and so soft against where I’d been hard for her. Watching her take her pleasure from me. Hearing her whispered words telling me how long she’d wanted me.
I wanted to relish that thought, wanted to bask in it for a while, but I couldn’t. Because mere hours before, she’d been running from a man. Crying. Sobbing, really. And then I’d brought her home, gotten her safe, and…taken from her. I tried to remember if I’d done or said something to coerce her. If I’d taken advantage of her like some kind of insensitive asshole. The thought settled in my gut like lead, churning my stomach. I’d hate myself if she regretted anything that had happened between us.
She stirred in my arms, her body pressing closer as she tilted her head back, blinked open her eyes, and…smiled?
“Morning,” she said, her voice still thick with sleep.
“Morning, beautiful.” I reached up, brushed the hair from her face. Finally allowed myself to do what I’d thought about a hundred times and trailed my finger across her brow, down the curve of her cheek. Her skin was exactly as soft as it looked. And she was still smiling. At me.
The thought of her smile dimming—or worse, going out entirely—if there had been a different outcome last night… Jesus, I couldn’t even think about the possibilities. I didn’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.
In the past two years, she’d come to mean so much more to me than just my neighbor, a woman new to town. What had started as a friendship loaded with attraction had transformed into something else, something more. And then last night had happened…
I’ve wanted you for so long.
Her whispered words as she’d been astride my hips, boneless from her orgasm, settled deep in my chest. Had that been a moment of sleep-induced confusion? Had she even meant to say it? Had she known it was me she’d said the words to?
Whatever her answers were, I had to know.
I brushed my thumb back and forth along her bottom lip. “Do you remember what you said last night?”
She paused long enough that I started to think maybe I’d made up the entire thing. But then she placed her palm flat on my chest, right over my heart, and whispered, “Yes.”
“Did you mean it?”
With her fingers tracing a light circle on my chest, she stared up at me. Trying to get a read on me? On what I wanted to hear? I had no idea. Feeling the overwhelming urge to reassure her, I covered her hand with mine, using the other hand at the small of her back to press her closer.
After what felt like a lifetime, she said, “Yes.” She licked her lips, her gaze dropping to my mouth for a moment. “I’ve always been attracted to you, Connor. It was never an option, though.”
Hearing that she’d always been attracted to me went straight to my cock. As much as I wanted to give in to it, as much as I wanted to roll her under me and make her scream my name, we had more pressing issues. Things we needed to discuss—and not while in bed. So before she could feel exactly how much I wanted a repeat of what happened last night, I rolled out of bed, adjusting myself to make my erection less obvious.
She propped herself up on her elbow as she stared at me. “Where are you going?”
I wanted to crawl back under the covers with her, run my hands over her and feel her body tucked up against mine. Bury my face in her neck and inhale.
Later. First, breakfast.
“You didn’t eat last night. I’m getting you food.”
She raised her eyebrows, her lips curving. “With all the meals we’ve had together, you’ve never made me breakfast.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve also never felt you come on me. You get special treatment now.” I walked back to her and braced my hands on either side of her shoulders, lowering my face to hers. “Eggs and toast work?”
She nodded, not trying to suppress her smile. Dipping down, I pressed a kiss to her lips, then grabbed her hand and tugged her out of bed.
“Come keep me company.”
She linked her fingers with mine and followed me into the kitchen, still wearing my too-big sweatshirt, her legs bare. Through the two summers we’d been neighbors, I’d seen her countless times in less clothing than this—a tank top and shorts, or a swimsuit. But there was something so fucking hot about having so much of her covered by my clothes.
Tearing my eyes away from her, I headed to the fridge. “Scrambled okay?”
“Sure, I’m not picky.”
She hopped up on the counter and sat silently, watching as I prepared breakfast. What struck me as weird was how…not weird this was between us. There was no awkward morning after. No uncomfortable bouts of silence. It was like it had always been between us—contentment and companionship—but now the cloud of sexual tension that had hung over us had re-formed into sexual awareness. I no longer had to wonder what sounds she made when she came. No longer had to wonder how long it’d take to get her off, how she liked to kiss, how she’d feel under my fingers. I knew—not enough…not nearly enough. But still, I knew.
I desperately wanted to spend all our time learning every inch of her body, but there were things we couldn’t avoid anymore—things we needed to discuss. As much as I didn’t want to burst this bubble we were in, as much as I wanted to forget exactly what I’d seen last night when she’d run from that house, I couldn’t. And I needed to know for certain what was going on. I needed my suspicions confirmed or put to rest once and for all.
After handing her the plate of eggs, I poured us each a glass of orange juice, letting her dig in before I dropped the bomb.
“When are we going to talk about what happened last night?”
She paused with her fork in midair, her eyes shooting to mine. “I was sort of hoping we could skip it.”
I set my plate next to her on the counter and reached out, tracing the bottom curve of her lip. “You know we can’t.”
Bringing her uneaten forkful to her plate, she pushed the eggs around. “I don’t tell anyone…this. Ever.”
“Does it have to do with what you said in there?” I asked, gesturing to the bedroom. “When you said you were attracted to me, but it was never an option?”
“I…” She bit her lip then sighed. “Yeah, it does.”
I moved to stand between her legs, resting my hands on her thighs. “You know you can tell me anything, right? It won’t change how I feel about you.”
She nodded, set her plate down, and finally met my eyes. Her face was drawn, her expression nearly pained as she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “Do you know what an escort is?”
My stomach dropped, the pieces of the puzzle all sliding into place. My suspicions proved. I swallowed through the tightness in my throat. “Of course I know what it is.”
She nodded, glancing toward the living room. Avoiding my eyes again as she said, “So you know not all escorts have sex with clients, right?”
“Yeah, Lo.” I squeezed her thighs to try to reassure her with my touch that I’d accept whatever it was she had to tell me. That I wouldn’t judge her for what had gone on.
For long moments, she stared into the other room. When she finally looked back at me, there was no smile. No glint in her eyes. No dimple. No Lola.
“I started off in the…standard role. Dates, money—” She paused, scrunching her nose as if the word she was looking for somehow tasted bad. She bit down on her bottom lip, gnawing for a second before taking a deep breath. “Sex. Dates, money, and sex. Totally what people expect. But at some point, the owner of the company realized the fact that I look young, that I was so short, even, was a more profitable asset.”
“Jesus, you’re talking about yourself like you’re a commodity, Lo. You’re a fucking person.”
Her eyes shone with wetness, and a pained expression ghosted across her face. “Not always. When I’m her—when I’m Lolita—I’m something for sale. I fulfill a need for a client that usually revolves around…nonsexual yet intimate acts.”
I could barely process what she was saying—referring to herself as something for sale. Like she was a product and not a human being. I hated it, hated everything about it. But it was her life, her choice—my gut churned at the possibility that it hadn’t been. To be sure, I asked, “And last night… Last night was…a job?”
“Yes. He was a client of mine, one I’ve seen regularly for almost two years.” She frowned as she played with the hem of the sweatshirt she wore, her eyes downcast. “One I hope never to see again.”
Something in the tone of her voice sparked my instincts, made my stomach clench and my throat tight. “Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?” If that fucker did anything to her—laid a hand on her without her consent… “I don’t have jurisdiction off the island, but I’ve got a few buddies over there. I can make a call.”
She started shaking her head before I could even get all the words out, placing a hand on my arm as if to calm me. “That’s not necessary. He didn’t do anything to me. When you got there, when you saw me running out, that was all on me. He never crossed a line—I couldn’t go through with the appointment. It was my fault.”
“That’s bullshit, Lo. If you don’t want to do something, it’s your right to walk away. You don’t owe your body to anyone. Ever.”
She stared at me, the look on her face nearly enough to kill me. The lack of life in her eyes downright scary. “Unless they pay me for it.”
I didn’t give a single flying fuck if they gave her fifty gold bricks. She didn’t owe anyone anything if she didn’t want to give it. Jaw clenched, fists balled up against her thighs, I said, “Even then.”
“Connor, I had a job to do. An appointment with a man who relies on me to act a certain way and trusts me to keep his secrets. Yes, I had a right to tell him no, but I also had a responsibility as a professional to make sure he had someone there to fulfill my role or to follow through with the deal myself. And I couldn’t.” She raised her hand and rested it against my cheek. “I couldn’t go through with it because I couldn’t get you off my mind.”
I turned my head to press a kiss on her palm. “Why now? Why, after all this time?”
“I don’t know. My job…it changed me. Made me not trust people. Made me feel disconnected from everyone because I had to keep my secrets.” She dropped her hand from my face and set it on top of mine where it rested on her thigh. “My life was already hard because of my family going back to Ecuador after I graduated high school. Living with the lies and knowing how strange some men could get only made me pull inside myself further.” She shrugged, a smile lifting up one side of her mouth. “But you never let me hide. You barged into my life and stayed there, and I adore you for it. You’ve always been special to me.” She hooked her legs around my hips, tugging me closer. Pressing up against me. “I never wanted to bring that life into ours.”
I wrapped my arms around her, slipping my hands under the sweatshirt and settling them against her back. She sighed, melting into my touch. “You know this doesn’t change anything, right? I promised you whatever you had to tell me wouldn’t change my feelings, and it hasn’t.”
She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows rising. “So you’re fine with the fact that men paid me to fulfill their fantasies? Sometimes sexually?”
Fuck no, I wasn’t. Even a little. But I wasn’t so much of an asshole to tell her what she could and couldn’t do with her life. I knew enough about her situation to know she didn’t have it easy, that she didn’t come from a well-off family who could help put her through college. That she needed to do that on her own—by whatever means. I could look past a lot if it was her choice. But if it wasn’t? “And did they always have your consent? Did anyone…did they take—”
“Never. Other than the guy last week, no one has ever gotten more out of hand than I expected them to. I may not have wanted to do all the things I’ve done, but I wanted the cash I earned doing them because I needed a job, and the money was easy. I’m not some sad, put-upon girl who got swept up. I made the choice to work in a particular field, and I can’t put that on anyone else’s shoulders.”
I hated it. Hated that it was her job, that she’d gotten into it not because she’d wanted to but because she had to—for money. Hated every single thing about the circumstances. But it didn’t change anything. She was still Lo to me. And yet… “I’m not going to lie to you—I can’t stand the thought of you with them.”
She bit her lip again, looking at me with those wide eyes of hers. Imploring me with her words. “Then stop thinking about them.”
I shook my head. “It’s not that easy. Every time I close my eyes—”
“Stop.” She pushed against my chest to get me to step back, then slid off the counter. “They don’t matter. Whether I did those things just to do them or for money, it has nothing to do with us. And last night was it—the end of Lolita—the last appointment I’ll accept. I can’t keep doing what I have been. Not with how I feel about myself.” Pressing close, she tucked her fingers into the waistband of my sweat pants, staring up at me with eyes bright and full of longing. “Not with how I feel about you.”
I breathed for what felt like the first time since she’d started telling me everything, my chest loosening with relief. No more working jobs she didn’t want to. No more putting herself at risk. Gripping her hips, I held her close. “And how’s that?”
Walking backward, she tugged me along with her hands pulling the drawstrings at my waist, a smile tipping up the corners of her lips. “Let me show you.”
She didn’t stop until she was in my bathroom. Then she turned on the water and came over to me, her hands going straight to my waistband. And as much I wanted to be naked with her, to feel her skin under my hands, I needed to make sure it was her choice.
I stilled her hands before she could pull off my sweats. “Be sure, beautiful. Be sure.”
She looked up at me, then removed her hands from under mine and went straight to the hem of the sweatshirt. And then she tugged it off and tossed it to the side. “I’ve been sure for a long time. Are you?”