Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (39 page)

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Authors: Laramie Briscoe,Chelsea Camaron,Carian Cole,Seraphina Donavan,Aimie Grey,Bijou Hunter,Stella Hunter,Cat Mason,Christina Tomes

Tags: #Romance, #Box Set, #Anthology, #Fiction

BOOK: Blue Colla Make Ya Holla
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“Hey, baby,” I cooed as soon as the door clicked shut behind me. “My name is Lisa. I’m gonna take real good care of you tonight.” I’d managed to get through my session with Thomas without losing my shit. This guy, however, wasn’t going to be as easy.

“Well aren’t you a sweet piece of ass,” Tubby said between labored breaths. He was most likely winded from the walk to the room, as opposed to arousal. He yanked down his sweat pants and awkwardly lay down on the floor. Realization hit me that his stomach fat would make his prick completely inaccessible if he sat in the chair, assuming the chair would even hold him. I turned my back for a second so he wouldn’t see me gag.

“My name is Lisa, my name is Lisa, my name is Lisa,”
I chanted barely above a whisper. With closed eyes and even breaths, I should have easily slipped back into character, but it wasn’t working. Panic coursed through my veins when I realized Lisa wasn’t coming to save me.

Grasping at straws, I searched my mind for images of Tate Parker. If I couldn’t be someone else, maybe I could convince my brain that he was. The insanely hot actor eluded me; all I could see was Carter. I tried to picture Thomas, but even though I’d just been with him, I couldn’t conjure his face.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Carter’s devastated gaze staring back at me. He’d given me the most sensual experience of my life, and I’d turned around and fucked Thomas. Hell, I hadn’t even thought of him when I was with Thomas. And now I was getting ready to fuck another guy. I hadn’t made any promises to Carter, but I knew it didn’t make a difference. I really was a whore, and not just by trade.

“Time’s a wastin’, sweet cheeks,” Tubby said from his spot on the floor. I took another deep breath and dropped my robe. There was no way I’d be able to pretend that Tubby was Tate, or Thomas, or even Carter. With my brain fully engaged, I had no choice but to fully experience this.

After rolling a condom onto his length, or lack thereof, I lubed him up as thoroughly as I could. Carefully, I lowered myself onto his disgusting body. My eyes remained firmly closed as I gyrated my hips at a torrid pace. I kept fighting to get out of my head, but nothing worked. Tears welled behind my eyelids every time he reached up and groped my exposed flesh.

Bruce’s policy was twenty minutes or one happy ending, whichever came first. I peeked through my watery lashes at him, and was relieved to see his face twisted in some disgusting form of pleasure. With renewed determination, I bounced up and down as quickly as I could until he grunted and then stilled beneath me.

When the room monitor sounded the buzzer, I nearly jumped to my feet and wrapped myself up in the pink robe. Wanting to ensure the biggest tip possible, I looked back and said, “God, baby, that was amazing.” I gave him my sultriest smile and then left the room.

Although I’d sold myself to hundreds of men, I hadn’t felt like this since the night before Lisa was born all those years ago—violated. Johnny, the room monitor, said something as I passed his station, but none of it registered. The second I was sure no one would see me, I took off my heels and sprinted to the locker room; I couldn’t get to the shower fast enough.

I tossed my wig and shoes on the makeup counter as I dashed by and barely made it to a bathroom stall in time to vomit up everything I’d eaten that day. It was as if Carter was haunting me. Even as I hurled, I thought about how I was puking the dinner he’d paid for after we had rolled out of bed.

Once under the spray of scalding water, I tried as hard as I could to scrub every trace of Tubby from my flesh. By the time I turned off the shower, I was honestly surprised I had any skin left. If only I could’ve found a way to bleach the memory from my brain.

As quickly as possible, I brushed my teeth, reapplied my makeup, pinned up my wet hair, and secured the fluffy, blonde wig back into place. I searched the reflection in the mirror for even the slightest hint of Lisa but came up empty.

I took a series of deep breaths in a futile attempt to control the residual anxiety. With only a few minutes to spare, I had to jog through the back hallways to get to the room where my last client of the night waited. Just one more, and then I could go home and cry. Just one more, and then I could figure out a way to let go of Carter.

Knowing the night couldn’t get any worse, I shook out my hands and straightened my spine and tried to channel Lisa. When the door opened, I thanked God when I found a tall, muscular man standing across the room with his back to me. Faking it with him wouldn’t be easy in my current state, but hopefully, I could get through it without getting physically ill again.

“Well, aren’t you a fine hunk of man?” I purred. “I’m Lisa. What’s your pleasure tonight?”
Just one more guy, just one more guy, just one more guy.
I could do it. If Lisa could do it, then so could I.

A stray cannonball must have blown through the wall and crashed into me. That’s the only logical explanation I could come up with for the crater that suddenly appeared in my chest the moment my client turned around.

Silence seemed to stretch on for so long that I expected the buzzer to sound at any moment. When I caught a glimpse of the clock, it’d only been about forty seconds. He examined me closely, as if trying to put together a puzzle with a missing piece. When the confusion in his eyes faded, his gaze hardened. I was sure I was going to throw up again.

He was the first to speak. “You’re a whore?” His voice was eerily steady and tense. It was as if he was trying to take an explosion and contain it in a space a fraction of its original size. His eyes were narrow, and I could have sworn I heard his teeth grinding from across the room.

The shock that had stilled me in place finally dissipated, but the pain in my chest didn’t abate. His accusation hurt, even though it was the truth, and Lisa finally came to my rescue. “You’re a pervert?” I threw back at him.

“No.”

“You’re getting married tomorrow?” For the first time ever, I considered walking away from a client. I knew my employer’s unspoken rule: you walk away from a client, you walk away from a job. The only exception was when the client was being abusive or was excessively inebriated. Unfortunately lying, cheating, heartbreaking neighbors didn’t count.

Heartbreaking?
Yes, heartbreaking. Who was I trying to kid?

“Of course I’m not.”

“My final client of the evening is the bachelor boy from the party going on out there!” In a fit of anger, I stabbed the air to my right, even though the main floor was behind where I stood.

He paused a moment before he responded. “He had a flash of conscious, so I volunteered to take his place.”

That hurt worse. “Fuck! I knew you were too good to be true, and I fell for it anyway.”

“You’re one to talk. How many dicks have you had inside of you since I left your bed a few hours ago?”

Totally losing my shit, I hauled back and slapped him. “I told you that you’d regret it. I told you over and over again that I couldn’t be with you, but you just kept pushing!” With everything else I was feeling, the sting in my palm was barely noticeable.

He stood still except for rubbing the red handprint on his cheek. I barely took a breath before letting loose on him again. “I guess you didn’t get enough earlier. I’ll go find another girl to trade with me since you’re obviously in the mood for variety.”

He stared me down as he took a seat in the chair I’d fucked Tommy in not that long ago. Aside from him coming here to fuck a whore and being pissed that said whore turned out to be me, there was something off about this situation, but I had no clue what it was. The anger on his face morphed into indecision, which confused me even more. “That won’t be necessary, you’ll do.”

Was he trying to punish me? Before I could respond, Bruce barged into the room. “Put your robe on, Lisa,” he ordered. “Did this motherfucker hurt you?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think.”

“Did he lay a hand on you?”

“No.”

“But you slapped him?” Stupid Johnny must have tattled.

I nodded. Bruce looked between Carter and me and then settled back on Carter. “I apologize for her behavior. I’d be happy to find you another girl for the evening.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’m ready to leave.”

“B-but, you already paid. Why waste a perfectly good boner?” I wanted nothing more than for him to leave. Even with my shield back in place, touching him now would be a thousand times worse than what I’d done with Tubby. But there was no way I could lose my only source of income; not when I was so close to reaching my goal. I had to salvage the situation, especially since Bruce was still in the room. “I want you so fucking badly,” I lied. “Please stay.”

“Don’t feed me that line of bullshit.” His voice was almost a growl.

For the second time in as many days, Carter stood and walked away from me.

*

After my third
shower of the evening, I put on my street clothes and hurried to the office to collect my tips from Bruce. Anything we earned over a certain percent of our regular rate was given to us in cash to avoid raising red flags with corporate. Might as well add tax fraud to my list of sins.

“You made out pretty good tonight, Lisa,” he said in an angry tone as he handed me an envelope that was thicker than usual. I peeked inside and was happy to find several hundreds tucked behind at least a dozen twenties. Thomas always took good care of me.

One of the best things about my boss was his integrity. Most guys in his situation would probably try to pocket most of our tips, but he always gave us every penny we earned. He made his money from the ‘upgrade’ fee.

“Thanks, Bruce,” I said as I tucked the envelope into my bag. Keeping my tone upbeat, I hoped the boss man would overlook my outburst with Carter. Wanting to get out of there in a hurry, I said “See you tomorrow,” as I headed for the door.

“Wait, I’m not finished.”

Shit.

“You lost a client tonight. I had to give him a full refund, not to mention you assaulted him. We can’t have the cops all up in our business. Luckily he agreed not to press charges.”

“I’m sorry. I know him, and he said some things that were out of line.”

“I’ve never seen you lose your cool before, but I can’t excuse it. You’ve been with me a long time, and you are my top earner. However, I do need to set an example to make sure the other girls get the message. You’re being demoted to waitress for the next three months. I can’t fit you into the schedule until next Friday, so you have the rest of the week off.”

“Three months!” The corners of my eyelids stung with how wide they were spread. The vast difference in tips would make it impossible to save enough to pay for school before it started in the fall.

“Sorry, doll. It’s the best I can do given the circumstances. If you were anyone else, you would have been fired on the spot.”

I nodded and left his office, not quite as tall as when I’d walked in.

*

My phone rang
as soon as I stepped out of the employee exit. Since I was already at work, there were only two people who would call me at two in the morning, and I didn’t want to talk to either of them. After looking at the screen to confirm it was one of my parents, I seriously considered letting it go to voicemail. But, much to my regret, I didn’t.

“What now, Mother?” Leaning against the wall, I patted my pockets in search of a cigarette. In this familiar position, my subconscious didn’t seem to remember that I’d quit six months ago. Smoking was a huge waste of money, and I made better tips when I didn’t smell like an ashtray.

“Hey, baby,” she said. “Can you float your daddy and me six hundred? We ran out of gas. We just bought food, and it’ll all go bad.” They liked to keep their ‘mobile home’, as they liked to call it, in the middle of nowhere and live off of the grid. I was surprised they’d never started a fire.

Knowing they didn’t need that much money for gas, I replied, “Maybe you’d be able to pay for your own gas if you actually sold some of your shitty homemade crank instead of snorting all of it.” That was actually the last thing I wanted. If they were going to run a meth lab, I’d much rather they kill themselves than fuck up the lives of others. “I can’t do this anymore. You know I want you to get clean. There’s no reason you can’t go to rehab and then get a real job.”

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