- Chapter Eleven -

Huxton

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We were both sweating by the time we finished up.

Stretching, I slid my jeans on over my shorts, zipping my jacket next. “I need a shower, feel like riding with me back to my place?” I asked, smiling down at Zoe.

Pulling her coat on over her tank-top, she led the way to the exit. “That sounds nice. Where do you live?”

“Not far. It'll be a quick ride on my bike.”

Together, we climbed onto my Harley. She did it so naturally, like hugging her body against mine was second-nature.

True to my word, we ripped through the traffic, dodging around cars, and arrived at my apartment in record time. I parked in my spot in the back alley, leading us through the gate. The complex was small, and in LA fashion, not well insulated. I didn't mind, I enjoyed the noise of the cars passing by. It was a good substitute for white noise.

Opening the door, I waved her inside. “Want a drink?” I asked, hanging my jacket over a chair. When Zoe said nothing, I turned, blinking at her.

She was standing in place, fixated on the brass pole that went up to the ceiling. “Stripper pole in the living room,” she said, cracking a smile. “Bold statement.”

“My Feng Shui has always been good.” Chuckling, I reached out for her jacket. Zoe slid it off, letting me drape it on top of mine. I liked the visual, our two garments blending together in one copulating mass.

She walked around, turning on her heel when she reached the couch. “Nice place.”

Following her eye, I smiled. “It's alright. Let me grab you a drink, you want water or something harder?”

“Harder?” she asked.

Opening the fridge, I rustled inside. “Beer, wine, vodka... unless you thought I meant something else?” Peeking out of the room, I saw how she was pursing her lips at me.

Zoe rolled her eyes. “Water is fine.” She motioned at the pole beside her. “Do you really practice on this?”

Filling two glasses, I sipped mine, handing her the other. “Not anymore.”

Her eyebrows scrunched. “Don't wanna take your work home with you, huh?”

Because I don't strip any more, I do something... else. Instead of speaking, I chugged more water. Fuck. Maybe it was time to tell her. “Zoe—”

“Can I play on it?”

I spilled some liquid—wiped my mouth. “On what, this?” Palming the pole, I gave her another look of disbelief. “Don't tell me you used to strip?”

The blue in her eyes darkened, lips coiling. “Would that surprise you?”

“Fucking—of course it would.”

Laughing, she set her glass down, drying her palms on her shirt. “Sorry to be a downer. I've played on one before, but I never danced in any clubs.” She considered me, then added, “One of my old boyfriends was a stripper.”

I inched an eyebrow upwards. “You're just full of surprises. It didn't bother you that he did that?”

Gripping the brass, Zoe tested how sturdy it was. “It paid the bills, and he was pretty fun. Dating a stripper has benefits.” Grinning at me, she shrugged. “If you're cleverly asking if it bothers me that you dance, the answer is no. I mean...” Grunting, she kicked off her shoes and put a foot on the pole. “I'll admit, the lap-dance you gave me was way more intimate than anything he ever did, that I know of. It makes me a tiny bit jealous, imagining you like that with other women.”

My heart was cramping, her words giving me weird highs of relief and plummeting despair. It was nice that she was open minded, but she had no clue. How could she even guess at what I was doing for money these days? I hadn't been very clear.

I mean, I couldn't be. Escorting like I did was illegal. I'd go to jail for prostitution if I wasn't careful. My card was intentionally vague, my clients all gained from word of mouth.

Stepping back, I watched as Zoe did a wobbly spin. The look on her face wasn't sexy, she was concentrating so hard just to hold herself up. It distracted me from my mood, and soon, I was chuckling. “You're a natural.”

“Shut up,” she said, but she was smiling, too. “Fine. Show me how it's done.”

Without waiting a beat, I approached the pole. Zoe gave me a mini-bow, too amused by the situation. I thought it was time to shift the humor into something... tastier.

Pushing my shoulders into the metal, I faced Zoe. She stepped back to allow me more room. Her interest was growing. “There's no music,” I said softly, stretching my arms over my head. “So use your imagination.” My chest pushed out, arching and causing the rows of muscles along my stomach to flex through my thin shirt.

Sinking low, I crouched and spread my legs. Zoe watched me, fixated on my movements. Not wanting to disappoint, I searched my memory for everything I'd ever learned during my brief stint in strip clubs.

Rolling my hips, I flowed like water, moving upwards until I was standing again. Dropping an arm, I inched my shirt high, exposing my stomach.

Zoe swallowed loudly.

Grinning, I peeled the garment over my head, my hair gaining that tousled look. Crushing the brass, I spun in a lazy, controlled circle, feet dancing over the floor. Easily, I lifted myself upwards, climbing until I had my thighs wrapped tight.

Watching for her reaction, I licked my lips, gyrating against the pole. I ground myself against it, giving her a show. My back muscles rippled, tattoos swimming and coming to life.

Zoe's stare was hungry, blue-fire that waited to burn my flesh. “You're good,” she said huskily.

Winking, I let my legs go, using just my upper-body to control my decent. When I landed, I pushed my hips forward. My hard-on thrust into view, plain through my jeans. Her attention shot to it, hypnotized.

I said, “Did you want a closer look?”

Nodding vigorously, she erased the distance. Shoving me against the pole, Zoe tangled her fingers in my hair, kissing me so hard our teeth clicked together.

My cock thickened, filling my briefs and challenging the strength of the material. Her hand slid over my bare skin, exploring the groove that led to my lower belly. “You probably hear this all the time,” she said, kissing my Adam's apple. “But you're sexy as hell, Huck.”

I started to chuckle, but her palm crossed over my swollen hard-on. Instead of words, a low groan floated up and out. She shivered in response, caught up in my growing lust.

Gripping the brass, I fought down my urge to grab her and get what I wanted. Part of me wanted to see what Zoe would do. Smiling, I looked down on the top of her head. Zoe removed herself from my cock, leaving me dizzy for more contact.

Her nails scratched across my ribs, hands brushing up my sides, then down to my hips. My erection flexed painful through my jeans. It needed to breathe, needed to be touched. Zoe was creating a vortex of hot desire in my loins.

The fierce vibration of a text rocketed through my pocket, surprising us both.

Glancing down at Zoe, I smiled faintly. “I'm not answering it, keep going.” Fucking fuck, who was that? Kaley, Gina, someone else?

She didn't hesitate for long, her hand caressing the front of my pants. Zoe rubbed me through the material, making me arch and growl desperately. Damn, that felt fantastic. I wanted her to go further, and she knew I did.

“Is that good?” she whispered.

“Better than anything should feel.” Licking my lips, I stared down at her, my voice rasping. “Take my cock out, babe. Go ahead.”

Shivering and pink, she popped the button and ground the zipper down. My gym shorts peeked at her, making her growl. “You're like one of those Russian dolls, clothes under clothes under clothes.”

“I never got a chance to change and—” The abrupt rumble of another text shut me up. That time, Zoe didn't mute her irritation. Eyeing me, she ripped my jeans down to my ankles with gusto. It was like she was saying, 'pay attention to me, got it?'

It excited me, but I would have liked it more if I wasn't worrying about who the hell was trying to reach me. My clients were restless. But so what?

I was, too.

Gripping my shorts, I pulled them and my boxers down. My cock bounced into the air, heavy and engorged. Zoe inhaled sharply, nearly getting hit in the nose by it. I whispered, “Like what you see?”

Nodding, she coiled her fingers around my base. Arousal fluttered in my belly. “I never got a good look at it last night,” she purred. “You're beautiful.”

Beautiful. She'd called my dick beautiful. If I didn't think she meant it, I would have laughed. The haze in her stare was pure honesty, though. Zoe was entranced by my cock, her fingers brushing along the throbbing veins.

Leaning on the pole, I thrust towards her, encouraging. “Put me in your mouth, doll. I'm going fucking crazy here. I want to feel your lips sucking me.”

Her eyes were hooded, the corner of her mouth tucked into her teeth. Zoe knelt and acted the part of a coy virgin, but we both knew the truth. No virgin fucked like she did. The wall was down, that infuriating barrier she'd constructed to keep me out because I—apparently—reminded her of her fucking ex.

Resentment started to bubble up. Zoe swept the feelings away with her mouth. Her lips sheathed over my cock, tongue gliding under the edge of the head. “Aah,” I hissed, reaching my fingers into her hair.

At my feet, even through the clothes and my foggy brain, my phone buzzed a third time. Zoe tightened, holding me on her tongue and halting. Then, as my nerves were peaking, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked at me with new vigor.

She made it so easy to ignore my worries.

“God, that's amazing.” Tension crept into my stomach, then deeper, my balls pulling up against me. I wanted to come, she was taking me there at breakneck speeds.

A bead of sweat slid down my chest. The hot tingles were dragging me down, a flood that I couldn't escape. I didn't want to escape. I ached to bury my cock so far into Zoe's throat, I'd have her tasting my come for weeks.

A guttural moan left my lips. In response, Zoe whimpered, the vibrations slipping down the length of my shaft. That was it, I couldn't hold back.

Grabbing her scalp, I shoved me way past her gag-reflex. Zoe coughed, but she didn't push me away. Her palm jacked me off, the other hand reaching low to stroke my balls.

Rolling my eyes in my skull, I banged the back of my head on the pole and gasped. Pleasure left me blind, ripping through as my cock pulsed in her mouth. Burst after burst of my come shot along her tongue, her neck thrumming as she swallowed.

“Fucking hell, babe,” I said. Letting her go, I pulled out of her lips, the suction fighting to keep hold of me.

Zoe filled her lungs to the brink, gasping for air. I hoped I hadn't hurt her, I knew I could get rough—I was often encouraged by my clients. None of them liked it soft or sweet.

She looked up at me, wiped her mouth... and grinned. “I did a nice job, I take it?” she asked, her cheeks glowing red.

Crouching, I sat on the floor in front of her. I brought her to me for a tangled kiss. She tasted like me, and I loved that. I wanted to possess this woman, to make every inch of her wear my mark so no one would dare touch her.

Pulling back, I whispered, “Yeah. Nice is one way to put it.”

She chuckled, forcing her way into my arms. I say forced, but really... Zoe fit so perfect. Her curves met my concave, letting her sink into my torso with ease. It was good. Everything was so fucking good.

Next to us, my phone vibrated endlessly.

Turning to concrete, Zoe didn't move. Then, with the utmost slowness, she leaned over and looked at my jeans. I believe my heart stopped. “Who keeps calling you?” she asked, staring into my face.

The pole was cool on my back. Or maybe, my skin had become ice. I didn't know. All I was sure of was that I'd been presented with a choice. I could open my mouth and lie to Zoe, I could talk my way out of explaining what was going on. I was a good liar. I had to be.

'Secrets are fine. But if your debt is going to change anything about how I feel about you—about what I'm doing? You have to tell me. Okay?'

My own demands came back to haunt me.

She was snuggled in my arms, waiting. Even if this ended with her slapping me and running... I had to do it.

I had to spill the truth.

“Zoe,” I said, grit shredding my voice. “I have to tell you something. You won't like it.”

Sitting up, she disengaged and put an inch of space between us. That inch was as good as a damn mile. “What is it?”

Scrubbing at my forehead, I leaned over and dug my phone out. Glancing sideways at her, I eyed my messages. Yup. Gina and Kaley, both of them wondering what had happened to me. For the first time, I felt ashamed about my job. I wanted to replace it with anger, but I couldn't. Not until I knew what she would think.

Holding the phone tight, I set it on my thigh. Zoe stared at it. I sighed and said, “Do you still have my business card?”

Nodding, she went to go get it—I grabbed her elbow, halting her. “Huck?” she asked.

“Don't bother. Do you remember what it said?”

“Muscle for hire.” Doubt crossed her face. “You're starting to make me nervous.”

Smiling bitterly, I chuckled. “Me too, sugar. Listen... you think I dance for a living, or that I play bodyguard, right?”

Zoe didn't answer, she watched me expectantly. My lovely girl of fire and ice, the most pale of statues.

Fuck it all. I needed to rip off the band-aid.

“I'm not a stripper, not anymore.” Grabbing my phone, I held it out to her. She didn't touch it, didn't even look at it. Zoe was fixated on my frown. “I used to, and until Eliza called me, I hadn't performed for a party like that in a very long time. I don't pay the bills by dancing.”

She still hadn't blinked. “Then how?”

“Zoe...” My tongue had gone numb. I made it move. “I'm an escort.”

Staring me down, she looked at my phone, then my eyes. Her reaction was too muted. I was waiting for fire, for hatred. Her neutral expression was unsettling.

She said quietly, “An escort. You mean more than the 'go out on paid dates' kind of thing, don't you.” It wasn't a question.

“Yeah. I do much more than that with my clients.”

That time, she stared at my cellphone like it was a rattlesnake. When I tried to give it to her, she shook her head. “I don't want to see. Really, I don't.”

Letting my arm fall, I set the device on the floor. “What are you thinking right now? Are you surprised, angry?”

“Surprised. For sure, I'm surprised.” Running her fingers through her hair, Zoe tried to smile—it failed. “You're not joking around. Huck, how long have you... and since you and I...?”

I didn't expect the distress to rocket up inside me so fast. “No! I mean—no.” Why had that worked me up? I didn't need to explain or justify my life to her. To anyone. “The last girl I saw was before your birthday party. They're blowing my phone up because I haven't talked to any of them in several days.”

A bit of light hit her eyes, dissipating with her new frown. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”

“I wanted to. I really did, but Eliza... she thought it would be too hard for you to handle. That I would be too hard to handle.” Curling my fingers, I made a fist, digging it into my thigh. “Fuck, that's no excuse. After I pushed you so hard to tell me what you were hiding, I kept this in my pocket. I'm so sorry, Zoe. Really.”

She looked down at my hands. On reflex, I eased the tension. “What now, Huck?” Peering up into my face, she returned to the woman I knew. The girl with her emotions so wild and rampant. I preferred this to her sad silence. “Will you keep seeing them?”

And there it was. The question I'd been avoiding. I knew how she felt about selling herself, did she care if I did it, though? “Are you freaked out, disgusted? I know how much you hate Nehro, I know you're scared of his contract.”

I was anxious to know what Zoe thought about me, now that it was in the open.

No matter how much it could hurt, I had to know.

I couldn't see into her head, and yet, I swear there were gears moving. Zoe had knotted her brow, thinking heavily about—something. I hoped it was about me. Let it be about me.

Sitting up, like her spine had returned, she gave me a fragile smile. “I'm shocked, but I don't think you're disgusting. I hate Nehro because he wants to make me sleep with men for money. I... I'm assuming you like what you do, right?”

Was it a trick question? Would she do that to me? Putting my hand on her shoulder, I lavished in immense relief when she didn't wrench away. “The brutal truth? Yes, I love what I do.” Risking my ego, I grinned and said, “And I'm good at it.”

It worked, Zoe actually laughed. She set her palm on my wrist, squeezing lightly. “I might not have handled this so well if I hadn't had my eyes opened recently.”

What does that mean? I wondered.

Zoe pressed on and said, “I want to make something clear. I don't care if you're an escort... but I don't honestly know if I can sleep with you while you're doing that with others.” Flinching, she looked away. “It's selfish, I know. I just—the thing with Reese, it was only a month ago. I'm terrified of being cheated on. I want to trust you, but I don't know that I trust myself to handle this yet.”

Gravel and vinegar sank into my stomach. The dismay she created was paralyzing me into silence. Zoe was asking so much of me—no. No, she's not.

She kept giving me outs. With the fighting, with this, she always offered me the option of walking away. It was my choice if I went forward. She gave me the power.

I just didn't know what to do with it.

Pulling her to me, I kissed her forehead and chuckled. “You don't understand. Technically, right now, you are my client.” Cupping her chin, I peered into her sapphire irises, never wavering in my intensity. I needed her to believe me. “Zoe, you're paying me to use my body. I'm fighting in that ring in exchange for your money. Ten years...” I flashed my teeth, watched her nostrils flare. “You'll be the longest booking I've ever had.”

And that was how I did it.

That was how I switched my brain and my desires around, creating a way to validate how I was choosing to spend my time. Money be damned, I'd figure something out.

As long as I served Zoe...

I would see no one else.

And as long as I saw no one else?

Zoe would never put her walls up between us again.