Page 18 of Copper

“Is that why you do it?”

“Yes,” I say without a moment of hesitation. “It’s not physical. I mean…some of it is. It feels nice.” She smiles a small grin. “But you between my legs and licking the most hidden part of me makes me feel close to you. That’s all I want. I want to feel close to you, but you keep pushing me away. I think about you all day. I think about how I can’t wait to see you. I think of ways to talk to you. My fingers hover over my phone because I want to message you about something silly my kids said or something funny my dog did. Do you think I just want you to suck my dick?”

“I don’t know what to think. About anything.”

“I tried to stay cool around you at the club and act like it was no big deal. It was a big deal to me. Any time you put your hands or mouth on me, it’s a big deal. It’s special. I’m sorry if I ever acted like it wasn’t or was disrespectful to you. Hell, I know I’ve disrespected you.”

I bury my head in her neck, but she pushes me away. Tears burn at my eyes now as she scowls. “Did you just ask me to be your date tonight to be your date? It wasn’t about Murphy, was it?”

“I want you on my arm all the time, Lucy.”

She looks at the floor. “I can’t be with you the way you want, Aaron. We live in different worlds now. I’m not the same person I was. You deserve better. You deserve someone like Cynthia who can be a role model to your girls.”

“That’s not even close to true.”

“It is true, and you know it! This will always be a cloud over my head, Aaron.” She pushes me away and holds her hand over her head like it’s a storm cloud. “This will always be a thing between us. You’ll always be able to throw it in my face that I sucked your dick for your money! You will always be tainted by what I’ve done.”

“What have you done, Lucy?” My voice is as loud as hers, and she stiffens at the question. “You haven’t done anything but try to support yourself. If something happens between us, it will never be an issue. I will never throw it in your face.”

“Except you just did, Aaron.”

She’s right, and shame roils in my stomach. I blow out a breath and step to the doorway again. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like a whore. It will never happen again, and I’m ashamed of myself. But I’m going to go get a blanket and sleep on that IKEA wonder in there,” I say, pointing to the couch in her adjoining living room. “I’ll be gone before you wake so we can have some space to think, and we’ll talk about this more later.”

I turn and walk away as she wipes a tear from her face.

Chapter 9

Lucy

“Fivehundred,sweetheart.”

The man that can’t be more than twenty-one leers at me from the booth. I’ve never seen him before, but he’s been throwing cash around like he’s Midas tonight. Why I grabbed his attention, I’ll never know. I wasn’t even trying.

Then again, that’s what they all like. Act disinterested and out come the dollar bills to draw us like flies to shit. It applies both here and in the world outside these walls.

“I don’t fuck,” I say.

“Come on. My girlfriend dumped me. I want to fuck her off my skin.”

Ah. One of those. No wonder I’ve never seen him. He’s been busy with a woman and doesn’t usually go looking for companionship in a fleabag like this.

“One thousand,” he offers, jerking his chin toward the upstairs.

I freeze and scowl. I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this. I look the man up and down again. Blond hair, blue eyes, and tailored clothing. He looks like a frat guy. He has all his teeth and is under sixty, and that can be a big perk in this joint.

My eyes flick to the upstairs room where I’ve only taken a few customers – one being Aaron. My stomach turns, even as my fingers itch for the money in front of me.

It’s no fun to be threatened with a knife at your clit if you don’t come up with twenty-five thousand dollars by next week. It makes a girl do strange things to survive.

It’s unsavory. It’s foul, and I hate myself for even thinking I could do it, but it’s a good start to the money I owe. If nothing else, it may appease Geoffrey if I hand oversomemoney when he comes calling.

“How old are you?” I have to be sure.

“Old enough.” I raise my eyebrows, and the man blows out a breath and reaches for his wallet. He holds it out, covering the address with his thumb. “See? Twenty.”

My eyes move to the stamp on the back of his hand, and he smirks. “You going to tell on me that I used the fake at the front door? There’s another fifty in it if you’re quiet.”

I tap my foot, which is no easy task when wearing six-inch platforms. “All cash. Don’t get me up there and pull that credit card bullshit. My ass crack isn’t a card swipe, and I don’t take Venmo.”

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