Page 67 of Tied

Her hand rests on my leg, and for a second I’m pissed that she’s distracting me from thinking about Holly and her perfume. That’s the only place my mind and my heart really want to be. And so does my cock, which is exactly why I’m sitting here next to a two-thousand-dollar escort. For distraction.

I grab her wrist, seconds away from twisting it behind her neck and pinning her down on the couch. Or maybe just leaving.

“I like the dark, moody types,” she coos in my ear.

Jesus Christ.

I know that voice. My hair stands on end. My blood goes ice cold. I release my grip on her and jump off the couch like it’s on fire.No pun intended.

I rip the mask off my face.“Tesla?”I can’t believe this. I want to turn on the light to see if it’s really her but, holy shit, I can’t. I refuse to see her sitting there.

“Tyler?” she asks, the shock in her voice rivaling mine. “Oh my God.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” I seethe, running my hand through my hair. This can’t be fucking happening.

She stands and tries to grab my arm in the dark. “Tyler, please—”

I point to the door. “Get the fuck away from me, Tessie.Now.”

Instead, she flicks on the light, and we stand there staring at each other, both of us speechless, shocked, and humiliated. Her eyes shift to the mask on the floor, then slowly back to my face.

“Get out,” I growl again. “Keep the fucking money if you need it bad enough to do this.”

“No.” Her voice shakes with emotion. “No way. I’m not leavinguntil we talk about this. And I’m not going to sit in the dark with my own brother.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. You’re a whore, and I’m an ugly psycho. The end.”

She slaps my face, hard, and I grin at her for having the balls to do it. Being raised with five big brothers made my little sister tough as nails.

“I’m not a whore, Tyler.”

I cock my head at her and run my hand along my scarred, stinging cheek. “From where I’m standing, you are. Last I heard you were a hairdresser. When did sucking dick for money become part of that job description?”

“Fuck you. Don’t you dare judge me. It’s not as disgusting as you think. I don’t stand on street corners. You went through the interview process to get me here in this room with you. You know firsthand it’s all discreet and professional.”

“Wow. That makes it much better.” My voice drips with sarcasm. “You can get the fuck out now. Unless you want to wait here for your next customer?”

I barely recognize the girl shaking her head at me with hurt in her eyes. I haven’t seen her in probably three or four years, and now she’s a gorgeous woman. Not the cute teen I remember. And not the girl who screamed when she saw my face for the first time after the fire and ran to hide in her room.

She kicks off her black high heels and plops back down on the couch, pulling a pillow onto her lap.

“The fuck are you doing?”

She shrugs. “I’m not leaving. I haven’t seen you in years. Since we’re both here, let’s talk.”

My sister apparently has the crazy gene, too. “I don’t talk.”

“Well, maybe you should start. Your voice sounds good, by the way. A lot better than it did the last time I saw you.”

I sit on the arm of the couch because I can’t sit next to her when she’s wearing a low-cut blouse and a tight skirt and I just gave her a pile of cash. “Yeah, I’ve been practicing.” I don’t try to curb the sarcasm.

Her eyes hang on me for a long time. “Believe it or not, a lot of my clients don’t even come to me for sex. They just need a friend. Someone to listen. Most of them are just lonely. You can talk to me.”

I let out a laugh. “Seriously? Men pay you two grand just to talk? C’mon.”

An offended frown turns the corners of her mouth. “I’m totally serious. Obviously, something made you come here tonight.”

“Yeah, to fuck someone who’s not my sister.”

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