Broken Girl(25)

He laughed as he walked away. Looking at the wall across from me, instantly the room had gotten a lot bigger. I guess my personal space just didn’t seem so big when he was around.

When I scanned the room I noticed this one guy with piercing blue eyes that kept staring right at me. He was with a short pudgy guy, whispering back and forth. He looked familiar, but when you were in the industry of f*cking for money, everyone started to look familiar. It was bugging me that I couldn’t place him. The way he was staring at me, I could tell he was trying to place me too. I was usually pretty spot on at remembering my good paying customers.

Then, as if ice water was poured down my back, a chill forced itself right against the ripcord of my soul. A lightbulb clicked between the guy’s ears and the look on his face switched from puzzled to familiar. Shit, he must have realized where he saw me. He must’ve been one of my dates; it was written all over his face. He was probably a guy who only came to me once, for a blow job or a quick ball-bustin’ dip.

I looked away.

Break the eye contact and please, don’t come over and make this anymore awkward than it already is. Great, this is why I don’t like to hang out in the city. Fuck, he’s coming over.

His shoulders were back, chest puffed, and he walked as if his cock was too big to fit between his legs. I pulled my single yellow rose over in front of me, trying to give the guy a hint that I wasn’t alone. I glanced over my shoulder toward the bathroom. What the hell was I gonna do? The last thing I wanted was to have Shane come back with this prick standing here as he tried to figure out if I was the whore he paid to f*ck a couple three months ago. The guy stopped next to me, obviously not the sharpest tool in the box, then stood there in his stupid f*cking manner, and actually waited for me to acknowledge his presence.

I looked up at the man and smiled. He winked at me just to make sure I was the woman he bought down in the Tenderloin.

“I’m sorry if I am being too forward but you look really familiar to me. Do you have a sister?”

“No, I don’t.” The f*cking balls on this son-of-a-bitch.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure if I had a sister I’d know.” This guy must have ironclad ones.

“A sister named Twyla? I mean you look identical to her, except she has straight blond hair down to her shoulders.” His words were dripping with sarcasm. The muscles in my back tightened. This motherf*cker was calling me out, right here in this restaurant. Sure, I had different names for different situations. When I wasn’t too sure about the stability of the John, the ones that seemed creepy, or cheap, or maybe could become violent, I gave them Twyla when they asked my name. This ass clown was trying to work an angle on me.

“Well, if she has blond hair, then we aren’t really identical are we?” I whispered in a slow, precise tone. “Sorry, I’m not who you think I am. Now, I am here with a friend, so I would appreciate it if you’d go back to your table and sit down.”

“Yeah, well heck, I figured it was worth a try, seeing you look so much like her,” he said staring right at me.

“Sorry, I can’t help you,” I said through gritted teeth as I stared him down. I wasn’t going to look away first. Power was determined when you didn’t give in to *s.

He leaned down close to my ear, inhaling a deep almost wet breath; he pushed close to my ear. His lips caught my hair, the words he growled filled my head.

“I know who you are. How could I ever forget going balls deep in a whore as beautiful as you, Twyla? You can take the hooker out of the Tenderloin, wine her, dine her, take her places and buy her expensive things, but at the end of the day, she’s still nothing more than a whore.”

My blood was boiling, I stood up, facing him, my body vibrating, ready to slap him for saying what he was saying. He thought he could pull all up in my face and disrespect me like that? I was all ready to let him have it, just weaken what little manhood he had left.

“Obviously, a prick like you can only think with your cock, so let me help you understand this in your language,” I growled.

I was so determined to chew this prick a new *, so f*cking wrapped up in the situation with this dickweed that I didn’t notice Shane had come back.

“Rose, sweetheart, you okay?” Shane slipped his fingers around the curve of my waist and caught my hip.

My heart walloped in my chest before it clogged my throat.

“Yeah. Mistaken identity,” I whispered staring into the guy’s eyes before I rolled into Shane’s chest and wrapped my arms up around his neck. Sure I was playing into a whole lie of being with Shane, but if it kept him from finding out exactly who I was when I wasn’t with him, then I’d gladly pay for the repercussions later.

The douchebag took a step back. Noticing I wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to f*ck up what I had or didn’t have with Shane.

“My bad, from across the restaurant she looked like someone I met before.” He turned and shuffled back to his table where the short pudgy guy waited for details.

Milliseconds weren’t wasted before Shane used the opportunity to pull me toward him and drop his mouth against my ear.

“What was that about? Not that I’m complaining,” he whispered. The warmth of his breath across my ear caused shivers to roll down my spine and settle between my legs. His hands slipped down and rested on the rise of my ass. God, he felt so good, our curves met so perfectly, each filled flawlessly by the shape of our bodies. I couldn’t say it didn’t feel good, right, or perfect. But, I had to be realistic. I pushed my nose against the bend of his neck and inhaled.