Page 7 of Skin Trade

She strained to look back over her shoulder at the women at the door.

“Say it.”

Eyes back at him, she pulled on her hand, but he gripped it tighter and pulled her into him.

“Say it,” he said, his words going along her skin.

“I was wondering if your ego was so big, you needed half-naked women to greet you.”

“If it was half-naked men, would you complain?” He arched a brow with his question, and when she didn’t answer him, he laughed.

“I might.”

“Really? I doubt that very much. Now stop stalling and come on.”

The club was alive with music. It strummed, even through the walls and floors. The place came alive with the pulsing sounds. It went into her bones, vibrating along her skin, inside her to thump inside her chest and make her heartbeat to the same time. The tang of beer mixed in with the acridity of sweat and sex coated a thick layer in her throat.

A woman danced close to them on a raised platform. The scarce piece of fabric did nothing to cover up her femininity, as she pressed herself against the pole in the middle of her floor and slid down it, so it ran between her breasts. She put her head back, bending in a way Payton was sure would hurt, then she saw Seth, and she lifted a hand and waved.

Still holding Payton’s hand, he sauntered to the woman. She twisted to get to him, and he kissed her. “Dinner tomorrow.”

She ran long fingers through his hair, down the side of his face and along his chest. “I look forward to it,” she purred. She ignored Payton … like really ignored her, as if she hadn’t seen her at all, which was impossible because Seth kept hold of her hand the entire time and almost threw her onto the stage when the woman grabbed him for an even deeper kiss. When she came away, she licked at her lips, and her eyes met with Payton’s as she tasted her own blood. But there was no greeting in that gaze, just a pure, fierce territorial stare. She didn’t need to say Seth was hers, because it was written all over her.

Seth led her across the room, between stages in the middle. Girls danced, men and women leered at what was on offer, but Payton couldn’t help but focus on the girl Seth had just kissed.

“You’re thinking again.”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “You bit her?”

“Tasha?”

Payton shrugged. “If that’s the name of the girl whose throat you had your tongue down, then yes.”

“It bothers you?”

Did it bother her? No. Fuck him; it didn't. She'd known him what? Two hours? Three perhaps? Did it bother her … did he think he was that special? A gift? "Are you going to show me to my room?" she said in the end, choosing to ignore his question and his game.

“You don’t want to stay down here?”

No. She didn’t. It wasn’t just Tasha, or the women at the door, or even Seth … no, who was she kidding? It was Seth. Yep. That was the damn problem, and it was the club, the women … so many of them on tables, on the stage, behind the bar. Not even one of them had their breasts covered, and not even one of them seemed to care.

“Tasha could join us, you know. She’s really good at what she does.” He slipped around Payton without her realising. Vampire tricks. One minute in one place, and the next, somewhere else. He stood behind her, his chest against her back, his crotch to her backside, and those damn teeth against the bare skin of her neck again. “You’d be her type.”

He slipped a hand around Payton’s chest, just under the line of her breasts. He hadn’t given her a bra and the gown he’d dressed her in cut down the centre of her body, making the mounds of her breasts stand out. She flinched when his thumb touched the bare skin just between them. She couldn’t help it. She sucked in her breath, but her heart beat furiously, giving her away, and the liquid heat from his hand flushed through her body and settled between her legs. “My room,” she whispered. “I want to go to my room.”

Tasha stretched out against the pole, her arm reaching up, one leg curled around it and the other hand holding on. Her body moved with the music like she had been made for it, and it her, but she stared at Payton, stared at her with a gaze like Seth’s, and then he slid his hand along her body, brushing along the edge of her breasts to her throat where he rested his hand around her throat, and Tasha lowered her gaze.

“Shame,” he said. “We could have had some fun.”

Chapter Six

It was surprisingly quiet in her room once the door had closed and she put the chair in front of it, because there was no lock. It seemed to work like a soundproofing board, and she was relieved for it. All the loud music, pumping bodies and god knows what else going on down there was enough to set her on edge. No … that was another lie. Seth was the one setting her on edge, but she could blame it on the throng of people below and the lust-filled people swaying about the place. It was easier that way. Easier for her at least. Denial was a wonderful thing.

The room she had been given was bigger than she’d expected. A big double bed stood in the centre of the room. It was antique looking, pristine. Someone had taken a long time to restore it, or a lot of care to keep it in the shape it deserved. She rubbed at her neck and at the memory of Seth soothing the wounds from the collar, and maybe it was him who’d kept the bed in such immaculate condition. As soon as Seth and the bed entered her mind, so did Tasha and any other unknown, faceless, big-breasted woman. She slammed those thoughts down quicker than she had slammed Seth out of her room and told him she needed some quiet.

The room also held a dresser … a proper dressing table like she remembered her mother had all those years ago before the world turned to shit. Her mother used one of those big paddle brushes on her hair, and she'd had a powder-pot and one of those spray perfume bottles. It almost brought a bittersweet smile to her lips to think about it.

There was a wardrobe and a desk, a small sofa and a television. Just near to those, there was a door, and through there was a bathroom of her own. Clean and perfect, ready for her. Running her fingers along the edge of the marble counter, she let her eyes close, and her body relax. God, it had been too long … much too long since she'd been able to walk so freely. What Creven had been afraid of, she never knew. It wasn't like she'd had anywhere to run to even if she had escaped.

---