Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1) (6 page)

His hearty, sarcastic chuckle echoed in her ears, the look in his eyes more menacing than his burly frame. “It’s not that easy. You’re high if you think I’m the big boss. We’re all working for the man, sweetheart. One way or another.” Omar glanced around them, and leaned closer, poison dousing his voice. “If I tell them that she’s out, without paying her dues, they’ll find her wherever she is.”

Her stomach clenched, but she lifted her chin, refusing to show weakness. “How do you expect her to come to work? Her face looks like a monkey’s ass.”

In silence he assessed her, an unwelcome grin forming on his lips. “But not yours.”

“Excuse me?” She threw her shoulders back, unwilling to connect the dots. Had he just suggested she could, er, replace her sister in the biblical sense?

“If you work it, you can have the fifty-thousand dollars back to me in a week or so. I won’t tell my boss about the switch. No one has to know.” His low voice had the opposite effect once she registered his words. It made an obnoxious noise resound in her brain.
If I work it?

“I can’t… There are other ways I can get that money together.” Robbing a bank. Shooting a porno. At this point, she was even considering working as an anal bleacher. Though that probably paid crap—no pun intended.

“I don’t care how you get it. Unless you or her show up for work—” He put his hand to his earpiece and held a hand up for her to be quiet while he listened. “I’ll be right back.”

Asshole.
She folded her arms and watched him stride out of sight, leaving her more at a loss than when she’d come.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said a deep masculine voice behind her, the Australian twang both familiar and dreadful. She swung on her heels to face Ryan.

“Hi,” she pushed past her lips, and her breath heaved as if her body recalled the luscious doings of last night even faster than she had. A senseless excitement swooshed through her, and she lifted her shoulders and straightened her posture. Trying, in her lame ass way, to fight the reactions her body recklessly threw at her.

She let her gaze trail over him, with the laziness of a painter stroking her brush over a blank canvas. He quirked his lips at the corner of his sensual mouth, igniting memories from where those lips had been. Her skin prickled, and she clamped her mouth to keep from saying anything stupid. Or moaning.

How did her hormones sizzled in high alert without any physical contact? As a strategy, she’d stashed the reminiscences of being in his bed in a special drawer.
I have other issues to worry about.
Her libido wasn’t one of them. Though having him before her jeopardized her self-control. She curled her fingers into a fist, wrestling over the need to touch him.

Ryan tilted his head, and amusement flickered in his deep turquoise eyes. Did he know just how much he affected her? “You left in a hurry. I never got to—”

“Listen, I’m working, so if you excuse me.”

His smile broadened with a pang of mockery as he glanced around them. Besides an old man talking to the shining coin slot a few feet away, no one else around them. “Are you waitressing or working working?”

Of course
.
Because he thinks I’m a hooker.
She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“I told you last night I wasn’t done with you.”

Heat liquefied in her belly, traveling down to the place between her legs that should have no say in this. None. Not when her sister’s life was in danger.

She parted her lips, then clamped them shut. Explaining he’d imagined her to be someone else would only make matters worse. He’d know there was another one, the real call girl, and she was just the slutty pathetic sister with nothing better to do. Worse, she’d expose Luna’s reality, when she should lay low and find a way to get the mullah. If last night he had been a distraction, today he was a liability.

“I don’t have time for you,” she said, lifting her shoulders. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would ever tell off a hunky man like that.

He stepped closer. “Then make time for me. Make me your only customer for the remainder of my stay.”

“Come again?” Couldn’t be right, could it?
Am I really that good in the sack? God. Look at me. Setting women back fifty years.

“I’ll be in town the next few days and sharing isn’t my thing. Even for a temporary arrangement. How much would you charge to entertain me for a few days?” he asked, his tone steady and face straight like they discussed a business deal, and not the carnage of whatever dignity she had left.

A few days? Her stomach clenched as if a freaking elephant sat on it. Was his insistence a compliment or an insult? “Time is money. Fifty-thousand dollars,” she blurted, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, hands perched on her waist. No way in hell he’d agree, but at least she’d get him off her back.

“Deal,” he said without blinking, and brought his hands together. “How does it work?”

Say what?
She blinked a few times, forcing her jaw to stay closed and not drop to the floor. “I need some upfront.”

“I’ll give you half now and half when you’re done. To make sure you stick around.”

“I’ll go to your room after six.” She crossed her arms, forcing a shield between the blazing surprise rushing through her veins and the man in front of her.

“Why not now?” The man offered her a casual shrug and a close lipped smile. He leaned forward, but she didn’t step back. Even though his ginormous frame was too close for comfort, the sexy energy swirling between them like a third party.

Am I really going through with this?
She licked her lips, and decided to ignore the knots in her stomach. “Because patience is a virtue.” And she needed time to get used to the…idea. This time, it wouldn’t all be over after one night.

A chuckle flew past his lips. “What I want to do with you, my sultry vixen, is far from virtuous.” Upping his eyebrow, he assessed her with such intimacy, her body roared. His gaze slid over her face, her arching breasts and at last, her fidgety hands. “Quite the opposite.”

“Good. You’ll have enough time to think it over. Also, I spend nights at home. I mean, I’m assuming we wouldn’t do sleeping anyway, but I have to go back to my place after we’re”—she cleared her throat. Twice—“done screwing.”

“Why?”

“That’s personal.” She rubbed her palms together. Sure, she could totally see how he’d want to get his money’s worth, but she couldn’t leave her sister to her own device. At least for a nightcap, she had to go back and keep her company.

“If you’re going to go back to a boyfriend, you better say now,” he said, his voice colder than snow. “Because if that’s the case, the deal is off. I mean what I said. While I’m in town, you won’t sleep with anyone else.”

Like I have that kind of energy?
She peered at him, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to figure her out. Would he see it? That she wasn’t a real sex worker. That she was an impostor. Sagging her shoulders a notch, she decided faking was her only strategy. “Relax. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She waved him off.

He flashed her the naughty smile of a man who had seen her naked. “Good. See you later?”

She nodded at him, the only non-verbal response to the latent chemistry oozing between them, and he turned on his heels. She watched him go, her mouthwatering at how a pair of jeans cupped his gorgeous ass. It took a few minutes for her pulse to slow its pace, and she almost had a shot of the semi-empty vodka glass someone had left behind on the top of a coin slot machine. Slowly, the buzz from the machines, the winnings being flashed on them, the voices from a group of Japanese tourists arriving at that wing of the hotel, caught up to her and she blinked.

Although she picked the tray where she’d left and headed for the kitchen, her movements were automatic. She just agreed to being a hooker, after all. Granted, every part of her wanted that man, like she never wanted anyone before.

There was no hiding this time. Ryan would screw her every way imaginable, and at the end, he’d give her the cold hard cash to ensure her sister’s safety and out of this life.
Wasn’t this easy?
She had to cling to any silver lining bullshit if she wanted to get out of this unscathed.

Would she be able to have a prolonged sexual encounter with a man who turned her on, only to know he’d be going on his merry way wherever he lived, and she’d go to hers? No emotional ties could come out of sleeping with someone for money. At the end, she wouldn’t be hurt, wouldn’t lose him, wouldn’t have to—

“You. We aren’t done yet,” said the rasping voice that prickled all her nerve endings.

She raised her eyes to Omar, blocking her entrance to the kitchen. The silver tray swayed on her hand, and she wished she could slap it on his ugly face. He made a gesture with his head to the area behind, and she followed him knowing there was no way she’d get rid of him as fast as she wished. “I’ll give you half of the cash tomorrow morning, the rest in a few days.”

“It’s not like that. If you’ll be working for your sister, I need to make the arrangements for you. We work with referrals. We’re very protective of our operation. There is a procedure.”

“Are you for real? I’m not applying for citizenship.” Tearing her gaze from his, she placed the tray on an empty table and contemplated her short, black polished nails.

“Don’t get fresh with me.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Look, I don’t know how much you know, but—

“I know enough,” she said with the casualty of discussing TV’s late-night programming. “Enough to know you are serious about that money. I’ve been doing some thinking, and I figured out a way to give it to you in a few days without you pimping me.”

He lifted her chin with his hand, making her stare into his devious eyes. “I prefer… managing.”

She snickered. “Whatever.” The attitude in her semblance didn’t match the pulse flicking wildly in her neck. “I’ll stop by human resources and tell them my sister has the flu or something. I mean, I have the flu since they will think I’m her, not to raise any red flags, and very soon I’ll get your cash together. Now let me go.” She jerked away from him, making a mental note to get disinfected stat.

He sighed, curling and uncurling his hands. “How are you going to do it?”

“That’s my problem. I’ll get your money and that’s all that matters. I don’t care what you tell your boss. You can lie, for all I care. If your greasy hand ever comes near me again, I’ll knee you so hard your voice will be higher than Sponge Bob’s.”

Chapter Five

He hung up the phone and tossed it on the dresser. The knowledge of sleeping with the woman he was supposed to expose was wrong, but did nothing to dampen the smothering sexual awareness ravaging through his body like a tsunami. Wrong was wrong. He shouldn’t have offered to have her for himself only during this stay. Damn it. He’d been able to give up alcohol.
One day at a time
.

Stomping on the marbled hallway floor, he smothered a groan. The need grew at every inch. A long, thin black coat covered her, and she closed the door behind her with flushed cheeks. Her gaze slid to his aching erection, and the hint of a smile grew on her lips. She removed the coat, which glided down her body and pooled at her feet. The mini dress she had on earlier still snugged her show-stopping figure. Whoever designed it had attempted to make it somewhat elegant, with well-cut lines, different shades of gold, and the flattering curves of a woman’s shape.

His breath hitched. The dress clung to her body, and strained her hardened nipples against the fabric. He slammed her against the door, and captured her mouth with his, his exploratory tongue delivering the urgent message to hers, his teeth grazing her full lip. He glided his hands up and down her body, his fingers hovering over her warm skin in a frenzied need to touch her everywhere at once. Finesse be damned.

A soft moan escaped her mouth, and she snaked her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. She kneaded her fingers in his head, and the decadent rubbing sent a charge of high voltage through him, stiffening his spine, sensitizing his scalp. With urgency, he slid his hand between her legs, finding no resistance. He inserted two fingers inside her drenched panties—there it was. Her pussy, gloriously damp. Warm. Tender.

“Yes,” she hissed.

He pulled at the sides of her panties, and with one swift movement ripped them apart, his tingling fingers working faster than his brain. She gasped, lifted her leg, hooked it against his butt, and ground against him.

A feral need flooded him. Without delay, he reached for the foil packet in his pocket. For how much longer could he take it? Not much, he realized. Swiftly, he unwrapped it then pulled down his lounge pants. When he rolled the condom on his cock, the tip of his fingers trembled, revealing the frantic yearning torpedoing through him.

He drove deep inside her, melding their mouths in an erotic kiss. The sweet agony of thrusting and almost pulling out every time worked its way on his control. Each time he plunged into her, he neared the edge, his blood hotter than roofing in the summer.