Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1) by Carmen Falcone Page A

the dress, turned the shower on cold, and walked in, intending to wash her body of him. No amount of water made her forget the sensations of being in his arms, of shutting down her problems, of how strong and empowered he’d made her, with tantalizing thrusts that both sliced her in half and pieced her back together.
    She dried herself with a fluffy towel, slipped the dress back on, and tossed her shredded panties in the trash bin. A quick glimpse at her reflection in the mirror, and heat rose to her cheeks. She blinked a few times, but the spark in her eyes remained. Stubborn.
    It shouldn’t be like this. Sex for money should be more…sterile, programmed, dull. Was that what lured her sister into this life? The sex?
    Yeah right. Wake up, Cinderella . With a snort, Kika shook her head and yanked her gaze away from the mirror. There was no way all johns looked like Ryan, or had his unique way of being firm at times, then surprise her with heart-wrenching gentleness. Like the kiss on her neck. Or the stroke on her face.
    Certain her exceptional situation of temporary hooking had to affect all her brain cells, she walked back to the main room, determined to keep her mind in the game. I need that money. Luna needs the money. If she let herself get involved, or made him believe so, then what? He’d not pay her at the end?
    No. The clearer she was about the situation, the better.
    Ryan sat on the oversize tan chair, slipping on his polished leather shoes. “Are you hungry?” He rose to his feet and smoothed his hand over his dark jeans.
    Hungry? Did he expect her to—
    “I’m talking about food.” His lips broken into a disarming smile, and she curled her toes.
    “Oh.” She placed her hand on her forehead, and stroked it. Get a grip, chica . The fear of exposing herself, her real self to him, flooded her veins. With eyes more dangerous than a dark alley in Rio, he studied her. “I thought we were done. I mean, you don’t have to feed me.” She let out a nervous gulp of air.
    “Consider sharing a nutritious meal part of the package.”
    “Well, I guess it’s your time. Your money.” She lifted her shoulders.
    He stretched to his full height. The ghost of a smile touched his lips, then faded, and she couldn’t work out if he was disappointed or just cynical. “Ready?”
    “Sure,” she lied. Truth was, she wasn’t ready for any of this. She was way out of her comfort zone—but that didn’t matter. As long as she moved forward with her plan, everything would be fine.
    Ever since they shut the door behind them, through the short drive in his rental Beemer to the entrance of an exclusive restaurant in The Venetian, there was a strange sensation between them. She tied the belt of her black coat, knowing the length of the dress wouldn’t be a problem in Vegas in a million of years. It was more her desire not to be recognized as an employee of The Spot. Or a sister of an employee. Shit. Less than twenty-four hours, her life had turned into a bad Mexican soap opera. Like the ones her deceased mother used to watch. I doubt Mama would want to see any of this in real life.
    Worse, her life had turned into a train wreck reality show. The ones she watched with a bucket of buttery popcorn on her lap.
    The pony-tailed waiter brought them the dinner and wine menu, and sauntered out of sight. She pushed the drink menu to the side, and played with the other one. “What are you going to have?”
    “You don’t have to do this. If you want to drink alcohol, you can.” His voice was casual over the dinner menu he held. “I’ll resist the urge.”
    Of course he would. I mean, the man had been clean for years, right? She fiddled with her dress. “I’m good.”
    His baby blues shifted into dark cobalt; eyes that warned and dared her. She shifted in the seat.
    Freddy’s cocaine addiction had taught her to be compassionate. How could she not when people struggled with a condition that wasn’t theirs by choice? A disease.