Ashleigh Walsh woke with a start, examining her surroundings with a wary eye. Her gaze settled on the man lying in the bed next to her, breathing peacefully as his bare chest moved up and down.

The comforter was drawn halfway down his body. It showcased the chiseled line of his shoulders, his wide chest, and the top half of his washboard abs. His muscular arm was draped over his forehead. Impossibly long eyelashes peeked out underneath.

Then reality dawned on her. She was with this man, this stranger... Well built as he may be, they were in a strange hotel room. In his bed. 

She took stock of her surroundings. She was still wearing the tiny black dress and her panties from the night before. Her muscles didn’t seem tender anywhere as she clenched. She had a sleepy memory of him tucking her in bed. 

But that didn’t happen to girls like her. 

Girls like her were drugged and left in alleys when they’d served their purpose. They were left alive or dead. Girls like her slept on the street when they lost their lodging. It would sometimes be months before they could afford somewhere new.

She remembered the way he’d defended her last night in the club. Remembered when he’d stood up for her when one of the other guys from the bachelor party had gotten a little handsy. 

She also remembered the relief she felt later, when Igor had been ripped off of her and gone crashing to the ground. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep in the lobby was how soft the couch had been. She'd thought about how comfortable it had felt under her aching body.

She’d just wanted to close her eyes for a minute. To shut out the terror she’d felt when she’d been sure that Igor was going to kill her this time. It was like her mind had just shut down when she’d realized that she was safe from him, for now. The next thing she knew, here she was. 

A paralyzing fear gripped her as she remembered the fact that Igor hadn’t been the only thing on the ground. Her backpack... 

Everything that she’d managed to save from waitressing was in that backpack. Everything she’d been able to save from Igor's greedy paws, that is.

But she owed him...

Igor was the only person that was keeping her from a much worse fate. From being sold by the club owners to some Middle Eastern sheikh or as a sex slave. 

Now she didn’t even have that kind of certainty. If she went back to Igor, he was going to beat her within an inch of her life. Assuming that Igor didn't decide that she wasn't worth the trouble... 

If he did, she would either go into the deeper recesses of the sex trade, or have to cough up some serious money. Money that she didn't have.

No money to pay off the bullshit debt she owed to the club owners. That meant no freedom. Especially now that she didn’t have Igor, who’d been protecting her from going into the worst parts of their plans for her. 

Tears gathered in her eyes, unbidden. There was nowhere to go from here. No idea where her next bed would be, if she would even have one.

She wondered for a second if Middle Eastern sheikhs provided their harems with beds. Then she gave herself a sharp shake, and pushed the thought stubbornly from her mind. She’d die before she went there. 

So, all things considered, she was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. No money, man, or job...

Plus debt that would be called up any day now. Debt that she couldn’t repay. 

She leaned back against the bed, dropped her arm over her eyes and groaned. She needed a plan. She needed to get out of New Orleans somehow.

But where would she go? She didn’t know anyone outside the club, since management was really strict about that. She sighed, wishing for a different life. Something else, somewhere else. 

She pulled her arm off her face. When would she learn? Wishing never got her anywhere. She needed to tackle this, head-on.

First things first though, she had to wake sleeping beauty. And what a beauty he was, his chest still rising and falling steadily as he lay easily beside her. 

She briefly considered just sneaking away, but she owed him a thank you. It was the one thing in her life she could control right now. It was something that she could do because she wanted to. 

Last night at the club, he’d seemed so indestructible it was almost inhuman, but in the soft light of day she could see that he was very much human. He was muscled, yes. Every muscle was defined. Years of dedication to it defined. Working out every day defined. His skin was tanned and the open hand on the comforter beside her was callused. He was definitely no stranger to hard, physical work she deduced.

She sat up with a sigh, leaning over and shaking his shoulder gently.

“Uh, Mr....” 

Shit. Had he given her his name? She couldn’t remember what it might be. Well, if there was any way to make this more awkward, this was it!

But she had bigger problems. 

“Hey, sleepyhead!” 

She shook him a little harder, her voice still quiet. His eyes shot open, seemingly bewildered for a moment by the daylight streaming in.

He turned to her, his forest green hazel eyes sweeping over her for a single second. They dipped to her breasts, before returning to her eyes.

For a minute, they both seemed tongue-tied, completely at a loss for words. Then they started talking at exactly the same time.

“Usually I do this before spending the night in bed with a woman, but I’m Walker.” He gave her a sheepish grin. 

“Thank you for last night, you really didn’t have to! I’m mortified! I’m--,” she started.

They both paused, then laughed a little awkwardly.

“You first.” He nodded to her.

She gave him a shy smile as she extended her small hand out to him. 

“I’m Doll. Thank you for last night.” 

Their eyes locked as their hands made contact. His hand was warm and strong in hers, and she held onto it for just a bit too long. She reveled in the comfort she felt in his touch. 

A booming knock sounded at the door in that moment.

“Yo, Roman! You in there?” someone yelled. “We’re moving out, man! Open the fucking door!”

He sighed as he heaved himself off the bed. The jeans he’d slept in were hanging off of his sculpted hips in a way that made her cheeks flush. They also made her breathing just a little bit deeper, despite her current predicament.

Seeing him half naked without the comforter was a sight for sore eyes. Those muscular arms and shoulders that she’d been ogling earlier were magnificent. His washboard abs looked good enough to lick. And the abs led down to those ‘fuck me’ lines that only the best built guys had between their hips. The kind that made even good girls drool... 

And Ashleigh was not a good girl -- she was a damned strip club waitress. 

He strode to the door, yanked it open and growled at whomever was on the other side. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna go ahead and skip the next club, Ace,” she heard him saying.

“Come on, Roman!” the voice pleaded. “This is the primo club in New Orleans if the rumors are true! We're gonna go hit the breakfast buffet.”

Ashleigh spotted her backpack in the corner of the room and nearly cried from relief. She quietly got out of bed while the exchange was going on, grabbed her backpack, and headed to the bathroom.

She pulled a change of clothes out of the backpack. She washed her face, and rinsed her mouth with mouthwash from a bottle sitting on the counter. The whole time, she was wondering where the hell she was going to sleep tonight. And whether she’d be able to wash her face under running water tomorrow morning.

She finished just in time to hear him tell the man at the door that he wouldn’t be joining them just yet. She heard him close the door with a loud click.

His handsome face appeared in the bathroom doorway.

“Doll, huh?” 

He leaned up against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. It took her a second to realize he referred back to what she’d been saying before the interruption.

She felt defensive all of a sudden. 

Why should it matter to him? He was coming back here to this luxurious hotel room tonight. She’d in all likelihood be sleeping with her backpack as her pillow for the umpteenth time. Trying to sleep with one eye open as she protected her only possessions in the world.

“Yeah, that’s my name. You don’t like it, well,” she shrugged. “It is what it is, nothin’ to be done about it.”

“Don’t want to give me your actual name yet? That’s okay,” he drawled softly. “Well then, Doll. I’m starving. You up for breakfast?” 

He cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly as he waited patiently for an answer. She drank in his mesmerizing eyes, his high cheekbones and his full lips. She found herself unable to think for a second as she was struck again by just how gorgeous he was. She didn’t trust her voice, so she just nodded.

He grinned, causing his eyes to light up in a way that somehow managed to make her feel special to be favored with it.

“You wanna shower first?” he asked.

She gulped as she pushed all thoughts of him out of her mind and nodded her agreement. This was not the time to be thinking about some guy. And she was definitely not turning down a warm shower if he was offering. Especially since she had no idea when her next one might be.