Page 7 of Killer Kiss

That was how you paid the bills when you couldn’t make ends meet.

Often my side of the room had a mixture of men and women, but tonight it was just the one group of ladies, who all tittered with embarrassment when I strolled over and asked how they were doing.

“We don’t normally do this,” one called to me. “But it’s her birthday, and she needed to be taken out!”

The birthday girl’s cheeks were pink, maybe from awkwardness or maybe because they’d been here a while and were several glasses in.

Her hair was long and dark, the same color as her eyes.

The same color as the woman on the train. The same color as Fawn’s.

I needed a fucking drink. This day had just been one torture after another.

I took the glass from the woman’s hand and downed it in one.

Her eyes widened, watching my throat bob as I swallowed. Her friends around her erupted into cheers and hollers.

I tugged the woman’s chair away from the table, singling her out, separating her a little from the group. “What’s your name?”

She had pretty lips, and they parted only wide enough for her to whisper, “Victoria.”

I forced a smile. “Like the queen.”

She nodded.

“Got a man at home, Victoria?”

She nodded.

“So what are you doing here, waiting for me to take my clothes off?” The dry, sarcastic words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

Internally, I kicked myself. This was always my fucking problem. Saying things before I thought about it. I didn’t give a shit if this woman had a husband and a dozen kids at home. I was hardly in a position to judge someone. She was about as intimidating as a field mouse, and yet here I was, being a prick to her for no reason, just because I was in a foul mood.

What I really needed to do was lay the charm on so damn thick she fell in love with me and was begging me to fuck her before the night was through.

That was how my rent would get paid.

Her mouth opened, then closed. Her eyes went glassy with unshed tears.

Ah, fuck. Was she seriously going to cry?

Good fucking work, Augie. You’ve reached an all-time low.

If I was going to salvage this, I needed to give her the full-blown boyfriend treatment. I cupped the side of her face and rubbed my thumb over her lips. “Don’t answer that. In here, the outside world doesn’t matter. Just for a few hours. Let me treat you the way he doesn’t. Okay?”

Her gaze darted to her friends who were all giving her wide-eyed nods of encouragement, clearly zero loyalty to her husband. Which told me they probably didn’t like him.

In my experience, two types of women came to the club. The party girls who were all happy at home but just wanted a fun night out with friends. They drank, cheered once or twice at the performers, and then went back to having fun with each other.

Those weren’t the women I was interested in.

It was the ones like Victoria, who came here seeking something more. They came searching for what they weren’t getting at home. Sometimes that was just someone to talk to. Sometimes it was a person to hold them.

And sometimes they came looking for a man who could blow their minds in ways their husbands were too selfish to.

I could be all three, and more.

I could be whatever I needed to be if it meant I could afford to eat that week.

---