Zeb…

She was warm, soft as silk under my fingertips as I played them lightly along her back, under the hem of the little tank top she wore with these stubbies that, I had to admit, did fantastic things for my dick.

She lay on me in her narrow bed, one leg over both my own, ear over my heart and listened to me tell stories about my greenstone pendant, but only after I got done telling her about my tattoos. I liked how she let her fingertips trace the ones in front of her nose, over my shoulder and one pec.

She reminded me of her cat, Max, who was curled with her nose under her tail, tucked between her owner and me where Tiffany had bent herself at the waist to allow room for her. It was an awkward sleeping position for her, but she was sound asleep against me now and made it look easy.

I didn’t like that she slept with strange men for money. I liked it even less that even though I said I wasn’t, I couldn’t help but be unhappy about it and that in turn made me unhappy with me, because it felt like I was being a judgmental bastard. Of course, the fact that I said I wouldn’t judge and then secretly stewed over it like a judgy cunt pissed me off even more because I hated being a hypocrite even more than I hated being a judgy cunt.

So I lay awake, the same thoughts chased by guilt in a circle around the inside of my head while a beautiful woman was sleeping on me, oblivious to it.

We’d talked about it, and she’d told me she didn’t want to do it anymore. That the money was good, but the money certainly wasn’t buying her any sort of happiness. I’d asked her if I made her happy at all and she’d really thought about it before she’d answered and the answer was unexpectedly raw and honest. She’d said, “I think I’ve forgotten what happiness is, but when I’m with you, learning or just talking like this, I can almost remember what it was like. Do you make me happy? I don’t think anything could make me happy, but you remind me that it’s there and when we talk, like this, I can almost believe I can be happy again.”

I didn’t know what to take away from that, but it made me smile and I had to laugh a little as I said, “Ah, yeah, now I know how you feel, I think.”

“Oh? How’s that?”

“I dunno whether you just said yes or no.”

She’d smiled then and had laughed and it had been a good sound, but I still didn’t know if it was a yes or no. She’d helped me understand a bit better by telling me, “I’ve learned that a lot of things aren’t simply black or white, yes or no answers.”

That’d been fair enough, and I’d said so. She’d grown solemn then and our conversation had dropped off and then she’d dropped off, too, into sleep.

I tried, and as comfortable as I was, I reckon I was bothered by the fact that she hadn’t said she wouldn’t do it anymore – that she’d just said she didn’t want to. I didn’t think I could share a woman with another man, and not even in the practical application of it was her job. Stripping I could deal with, but another man inside her? Knowing that it made her sad, that she didn’t want to? I couldn’t bear the thought. It was so uncomfortable I must’ve shifted because she jolted awake slightly and asked, “What’s wrong?”

I decided she’d been honest with me, so I could be honest with her. That I had to be honest with her.

“I don’t want you to sleep with other men anymore if we’re gonna give it a go. It bothers me and honestly, it hurts my heart to know you’ve done it for so long. You’re worth much more than that, eh.”

“I told you, I don’t want to anymore,” she said.

“I know, but not wanting to and not doing it are two different things, eh.”

She was quiet for several moments and she cuddled closer to me and stroked the top of Max’s head between the cat’s ears.

“I don’t do what I don’t want to, not anymore. Still, telling a guy ‘no’ outright isn’t the easiest thing to do when you’re a woman and in the line of work I’m in.”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying the best way for me to go about it is to say I don’t want to, and when they push, the only way I really have to push back is with money. I have a better chance of getting out of it by naming an exorbitant price, but Nik,” she let out a bit of a hard sigh and said, “everyone has their price.”

“Name yours,” I said softly. She named a figure and I let out a low whistle. I could see what she meant. “Yeah, at that price, I reckon even I couldn’t argue you going for it.”

She rested her arm on me and propped her chin on her wrist, staring me in the eye, “Then whoever asks, that’s my price. Most, if not all, of the guys around here wouldn’t be willing to pay that much to fuck anyone, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Lucky if one of ‘em doesn’t try to hit you for even suggesting it,” I said carefully.

“I really didn’t turn tricks that often, and only for a handful of men. Regular customers that I got to know enough to know if they were that type of guy. Plus, if any of them tried it, that’s what Zeke is for. My problem is that I know not even Zeke could stand up to Silas, which is why I went the only place where I knew I could find someone who could.” She looked sad again but I was too busy replaying the part where she said she didn’t turn tricks often. ‘Didn’t’ as in past tense. She really was out of the game as far as she was concerned and I was well pleased with that.

“How much extra did that kind of thing net you?” I asked.

“Two, sometimes three extra grand a month, but I’m almost done with my debts. It will take me a bit longer with just dancing but like I said, money doesn’t buy happiness, and I’m looking at a chance to maybe be happy again; I don’t want to screw that up.”

She was staring at me, searching my face. I nodded. “A compromise then. You name that price. If someone matches it or offers more, you really think about it and if you can’t pass it up you do what you think is right. Not what I think is right or what a citizen might because fuck them – you do you, and we can talk about it, just like we’re talking now.”

“You wouldn’t be mad?”

I lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug and said, “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t be. Can’t say how I would feel until it happened, but I promise I’ll never hurt you, or smack you around.” I reached up and traced a thumb along her cheek. “What I will promise is to listen to you and talk it out. I can’t and won’t make decisions for you, Girl. That’s not something you should ever sign up for again.”

“I won’t, believe me, but Nik, I am signing up for taking your feelings, thoughts, and the like into consideration when making my decisions. That’s part of a relationship, isn’t it? Doing things with your partner in mind?”

“Ah yeah, that’s what I reckon.”

She laid her head back down and cuddled up to me again. I held her tight and Max stretched between us and reached out a paw, putting it on my stomach. Then her claws came out and she dug in.

“Ay!” I cried and tried not to jerk. “Crazy cat!” She let up and looked at me, green eyes full of feline judgment and I had to smirk. It was like she had spoken, and I was listening. It was a good talk, and I felt better about things and suddenly felt far more tired than I had a moment before.

“So are we okay then?” Tiffany asked, voice small, and I stroked my fingers along her silky skin beneath her tank, along the top of her stubbies.

“We were never not okay, Wahine. Go back to sleep, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said and sounded relieved. I could feel good about that, at least. I kissed the top of her head and tried to put thoughts about her going to work that night out of my head. It was easier than I thought, surprising enough. When she fell asleep this time, I went with her and I think we both slept pretty hard.