of that for people who hardly know each other." I gave in and took a bite of the pie, nearly moaning in delight as the tart sweetness melted on my tongue.
Ash noticed. "I've never been jealous of a dessert before, but if it can make you look that satisfied, I've got some competition."
I put the fork down. "You and your brother seem to be suffering from the delusion that I'm a prize to be won in your pissing contest, when this is most assuredly not the case. I'm not playing your game, and I can't be had by the winner of this fictional competition you two have constructed."
He stood, str aightening his coat. "Oh, it's not fictional, I assure you. And sooner or later, you'll find I can bring you considerably more pleasure than that pie. Until then, enjoy your dessert, Miss Travis."
When the door clicked closed behind him, I exhaled, unsure what to make of the warring feelings inside of me.
I decided to do what I should have done in the first place, and pulled out my laptop to google the Davenports. What I found didn't make me feel any better.
Ash was more d angerous than I'd realized—someone I had to stay far, far away from. Because Ashton Benjamin Davenport the Third may have been many things.
But he was also a murderer.
Chapter Thirteen
Cigars and Women
THAT NIGHT I dreamed of men in masks chasing me, killing everyone around me. I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking from fear. Bridgette drove me to the precinct that day to talk to Detective Gray and fill out paperwork. He had no leads, they knew nothing and I felt the same hopelessness I'd experienced during the investigation into my parents' murder.
I chec ked in with The Pleasure Palace and got back on the schedule. They understood my troubles and offered to pay me early to help replace my clothes, an unexpected kindness that made me teary eyed. "Us girls gotta stick together," Donna had said.
When my shift started that night, Bridgette tossed out excuses for me with her family, and I locked myself in my room and grabbed the phone. I had no desire to talk sex to strangers, but I needed the money. While I waited for calls to come in, I skimmed more articles on Ash, obsessed with figuring out the truth about him.
I was reading through another news story on his arrest when my phone rang. Clearing my throat, I answered with a sultry, "This is Cat, how can I pleasure you tonight?"
The man on the other line sniggered. "That's new. Seems you've been refining your call skills since last we spoke."
I stared a t the picture of the smiling guy on my computer screen and sighed. "Hello, Ash. I didn't expect to hear from you again."
"Did you miss me?" he asked.
"Not really," I lied.
"Ha! Of course you didn't. You've no doubt had the cream of the crop calling you the last few weeks."
I closed my laptop and set it on the table next to me. "Naturally. So, what can I do for you this evening?"
"I still haven't figured that out," he said. After a pause, I could hear him deeply inhale, then exhale.
"Are you smoking?"
"A Cuban cigar," he said. "I gave up cigarettes a long time ago, but still enjoy a cigar now and then."
"Aren't those illegal in the States?"
"Let's pretend I'm in Mexico right now, then," he said.
"You know," I said, "I actually smoked my first cigar, a Cuban cigar, in Mexico during spring break once. They aren't bad."
I could almost see his smirk when he spoke. "Maybe one day we'll meet in person and share one together. I'd like to see you smoke a cigar. I imagine it would be very sexy."
"But you have no idea what I look like," I reminded him.
"I've seen your picture on your profile page."
It was my turn to snigger. "You know those are all fake, right? None of us use our real picture."
"Well, that's a relief. I didn't imagine you to be an over made-upblonde with a tripl e- D rack."
"Nope, I could be a thre e- hundre d- pound woman who happens to have a sexy voice."
"And who says a thre e- hundre d- pound woman can't be sexy? I've known many
Ash noticed. "I've never been jealous of a dessert before, but if it can make you look that satisfied, I've got some competition."
I put the fork down. "You and your brother seem to be suffering from the delusion that I'm a prize to be won in your pissing contest, when this is most assuredly not the case. I'm not playing your game, and I can't be had by the winner of this fictional competition you two have constructed."
He stood, str aightening his coat. "Oh, it's not fictional, I assure you. And sooner or later, you'll find I can bring you considerably more pleasure than that pie. Until then, enjoy your dessert, Miss Travis."
When the door clicked closed behind him, I exhaled, unsure what to make of the warring feelings inside of me.
I decided to do what I should have done in the first place, and pulled out my laptop to google the Davenports. What I found didn't make me feel any better.
Ash was more d angerous than I'd realized—someone I had to stay far, far away from. Because Ashton Benjamin Davenport the Third may have been many things.
But he was also a murderer.
Chapter Thirteen
Cigars and Women
THAT NIGHT I dreamed of men in masks chasing me, killing everyone around me. I woke up in a cold sweat, shaking from fear. Bridgette drove me to the precinct that day to talk to Detective Gray and fill out paperwork. He had no leads, they knew nothing and I felt the same hopelessness I'd experienced during the investigation into my parents' murder.
I chec ked in with The Pleasure Palace and got back on the schedule. They understood my troubles and offered to pay me early to help replace my clothes, an unexpected kindness that made me teary eyed. "Us girls gotta stick together," Donna had said.
When my shift started that night, Bridgette tossed out excuses for me with her family, and I locked myself in my room and grabbed the phone. I had no desire to talk sex to strangers, but I needed the money. While I waited for calls to come in, I skimmed more articles on Ash, obsessed with figuring out the truth about him.
I was reading through another news story on his arrest when my phone rang. Clearing my throat, I answered with a sultry, "This is Cat, how can I pleasure you tonight?"
The man on the other line sniggered. "That's new. Seems you've been refining your call skills since last we spoke."
I stared a t the picture of the smiling guy on my computer screen and sighed. "Hello, Ash. I didn't expect to hear from you again."
"Did you miss me?" he asked.
"Not really," I lied.
"Ha! Of course you didn't. You've no doubt had the cream of the crop calling you the last few weeks."
I closed my laptop and set it on the table next to me. "Naturally. So, what can I do for you this evening?"
"I still haven't figured that out," he said. After a pause, I could hear him deeply inhale, then exhale.
"Are you smoking?"
"A Cuban cigar," he said. "I gave up cigarettes a long time ago, but still enjoy a cigar now and then."
"Aren't those illegal in the States?"
"Let's pretend I'm in Mexico right now, then," he said.
"You know," I said, "I actually smoked my first cigar, a Cuban cigar, in Mexico during spring break once. They aren't bad."
I could almost see his smirk when he spoke. "Maybe one day we'll meet in person and share one together. I'd like to see you smoke a cigar. I imagine it would be very sexy."
"But you have no idea what I look like," I reminded him.
"I've seen your picture on your profile page."
It was my turn to snigger. "You know those are all fake, right? None of us use our real picture."
"Well, that's a relief. I didn't imagine you to be an over made-upblonde with a tripl e- D rack."
"Nope, I could be a thre e- hundre d- pound woman who happens to have a sexy voice."
"And who says a thre e- hundre d- pound woman can't be sexy? I've known many