Page 4 of A Little Naughty

“Yeah.” I lift my chin. “And you are?”

He swaggers closer, and the scent of tobacco and leather wraps around me, tightening my throat. He’s cocky, and his crackling grin saysbad man.

“Wolf.”

Of course.

“You a working girl?” His black eyes move from my face to my neck to my small breasts.

I’m not wearing a bra with this dress, not that I need one, and he’s mentally undressing me like the creep he is. “I have a job, if that’s what you mean.”

The muscle in his jaw moves, and he’s calculating, sizing me up. Momma used to say,Stay away from bad men. They’ll beat you.Like living with her was any better.

He should scare me, but he doesn’t. I’d let him walk on, but I’m curious about his relationship to Nikki. I’ve heard rumors of kids being forced to work in hotels or sew clothes or do other stuff I try to believe isn’t possible.

“How old are you,Taylor?” He knows it’s not my name.

“Twenty-seven.”

I wince. I’m getting too old for this life. If I stay here any longer, I’ll never leave, and I know what that looks like.Not pretty.

His eyes narrow. “You look seventeen.”

“People say I’ll be glad of that when I’m fifty.” At present, looking young is more a liability than an asset.

Fine lines appear at the corner of his eyes, and he reaches up, threading his fingers in the side of my hair. He curls them, holding my head tight, then he presses his thumb against my full lips, dragging it down and smearing red-velvet lipstick on my cheek. My heart beats faster at his rough confidence.

“What are you doing?” It’s a hoarse whisper.

He only holds me tighter, stepping so close, his nose brushes mine. A knot is in my throat, but I won’t back down. I won’t show any sign of weakness.

“You’re beautiful.” He catches my wrist, pressing my palm to the front of his jeans. “Feel that?”

His erection is thick in his jeans. I try to jerk my hand away, but he holds it, looking straight into my eyes like he’s assessing my ability to fight.

“Let me go.” My jaw is clenched, but there is no fucking way I could beat this guy in a fight.

Still, I could try.

“We could make a lot of money.” Black eyes hold mine. “I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

His grip finally loosens, and I jerk my hand away. I might have a taste for adventure, but I also have self-respect. Just where I learned it is anybody’s guess, considering I’ve never had any good role models.

“I don’t do that.”

He lifts his chin as if my response amuses him. “Too bad.”

Our eyes are still locked, and I’m not going to blink first. I’m not going to let him win.

“Hey, girl, hey. Sorry to make you wait.” Monay is breathless as she hustles up to where we’re standing then skids to a stop. “What’s this? Are we making new friends?”

My roommate is a six-foot-two drag queen, who likes to wear two-inch platforms. Towering over us, she sizes up the situation, and her eyes narrow.

“No.” My tone is flat.

Wolf takes a step back, snapping his fingers. The little girl jumps up and runs to his side, but she doesn’t take his hand. He says something to her in a language that is not Spanish then smacks the back of her head.

I flinch, knowing how that feels, and I grind my teeth, watching her rub the back of her neck. I hate men who treat children like animals. I also hate men who treat animals like punching bags.

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