Page 48 of Crossed
His hands come up and grip me tight again on the hips, and then he thrusts himself up between my legs, so hard that it hurts.
“Fuck, Andrew.Stop.” My voice is firm, and I quit moving entirely.
“Then get it the fuck together, Esmeralda. Jesus.You feel like a damn robot.”
I know what I should do, what the smart thing is to do. I should smack him in his disgusting face and call Benny the bouncer in to take out the trash. But then I think of Parker saying what would happen if I was short on money again, and I close my eyes, swallowing down the urge to leave.
Instead, I let my mind wander, and when Father Cade’s face flashes in my mind, I suck in a sharp breath at the spark of heat.
I latch on to his image, even though it feels wrong, and suddenly every roll of my hips is on top ofhislap, and every time I feel a wandering hand, it’shisfingers skimming across my flesh.
The fabric of my G- string dampens as arousal flushes through my system, my clit swelling as I grind myself down, able to feel how hard he is as I rub myself just the right way along his thick cock.
Fuck.
My eyes squeeze tighter, reveling in the way it feels to give in, to let myselffeel.
To be the reason he breaks his vows.
Strong hands grip my breasts, ghosting over the fake emerald necklace I wear while I’m Esmeralda, and a moan escapes me, my hips working faster against his erection, the slight thrust of his hips hitting me in just the right spot. Pricks of pleasure skitter through my middle and dance between my legs, and I hear a low groan from in front of me.
“Goddamn, Esmeralda. I knew you wanted it. You’re soaking me, baby.”
My eyes snap open and I stumble off Andrew, reality crashing back down on top of me until I feel shattered and trapped beneath the rubble.
Andrew’s hands fly up and grip my waist tightly, meaty fingers digging into my skin until I wince. “Where are you going?”
“The song’s over, Andrew,” I say, ripping myself away. “I’ve gotta go.”
Forcing a grin, I lean in and press a swift kiss to his cheek before rushing out the door, not even remembering to get the money I’m owed.
I’ve never,evergotten that way when I’m at work. It’s not about sexual pleasure for me. It’s business. A way for me to regain agency with my sexuality after it being stolen from me when I had just turned nineteen.
And it’s extremely concerning that with a singlethoughtof Father Cade, I lost myself in a fantasy.
Ridiculous.
I’m still beating myself up over it twenty minutes later when I rush out the back entrance, desperate to get home and curl up beneath my covers and pretend tonight never happened.
Usually there’s a bouncer at the door, but when I leave, there’s no one there, and I put my head down and hustle over the few steps, calculating how long I’ll have to wait to grab the next bus home. And maybe that’s why I don’t hear footsteps coming up behind me until I feel the strong grip on my arm that pulls me into a hard body.
My breath whooshes out of me.
“You forgot your money,” Andrew rasps in my ear.
I press my lips together, shaking my head, fear piercing through me like needles. “Oh, did I?”
My heart slams against my ribs, beating out the words “get away” like a giant red flag waving in the wind. I listen without a second thought, trying to pry from where he has us stuck together so I can leave, but he just tightens his hold and then drags me back into the alley behind the club, slamming me roughly against the side of the building.
“Don’t run, baby,” he whispers against my neck, his hips thrusting against my ass as he presses me into the brick. “Finish what you started. You were into it. Iknowyou were into it.”
“No, Andrew. It’s a job.” I struggle against him, my stomach heaving with nerves, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Flashes of Parker waltzing into our apartment in the middle of the day and me smacking him in the face as he demanded for the thousandth time to know where my mother went coast through my mind. The way his hands reached out and gripped my throat, slamming me on the couch. His meaty paws ripping away my clothes as he told me he was trying to find her. That until she came back, it was up tometo make sure he got paid.
How when I told him no, he made it hurt worse.
“It’sjusta job for me,” I cry out. “Stop it.”
“Quitlying, dammit.” He pushes me harder into the wall, my cheek scratching against the rough surface until it stings.
