Chapter Two

Chapter Two

She’s a gold mine.

I’ve never heard anyone sing like this girl in my life. Christ, I can’t even compare her to anyone, because she’s that damn unique. She has a voice soaked in bourbon, sprinkled with sugar. A lot like her body. There is no doubt in my mind we’re going to make a killing together. And yet, I still thought of leaving her behind. Because with her in the passenger seat of my Impala, I’m a tight, vibrating epicenter of lust. It’s taking everything in my power not to pull this car over and bang her sweet young ass on the hood of my car.

It’s unconscionable to want her this way. My hard dick requires so much blood, I’m half dizzy and finding it hard to focus on the road. I don’t even want to know her age, because I’m afraid once I know the answer, I’ll have no choice but to send her home on the next bus. This is wrong. Glancing over every ten seconds at her smooth, milky thighs makes me a lecher, but there’s no way to stop.

If money wasn’t the altar at which I worship, the suffering wouldn’t be worth it. But I know when this knockout redhead…Babette…opens her mouth in front of clients, we’re going to be swimming in money. If I passed this up, I could never respect myself again. Not after being thrown out on my ass at fifteen and surviving through fair means or foul for the second half—and then some—of my life. I take the fast tracks life allows me and I don’t look back. This world offers too many potential setbacks not to get ahead whenever and however possible.

Funny, I thought my conscience had gone up in flames a decade ago. But it’s definitely guilt I’m feeling as I catch the sparkling excitement in Babette’s green gaze. She’s staring out at the road whizzing past as if she’s never been outside the confines of her podunk town, head whipping around to catch the sights. Fuck. I didn’t mention in the advertisement how dangerous this profession of mine could prove to be. I would need to explain, in clear detail, when we reached the motel. Maybe there is a hint of humanity left inside me, because I need to give her one out. Despite her worth, I won’t put this young girl in harm’s way without her fully aware of what she’s getting into.

Never mind what I’m getting myself into. A relentless, depraved need to fuck for as long as she’s around. A need to own, to mold with my hands. To devour.

“Where are we going?” Babette asks, breathless. “A-are we going to the big city or—”

“Whom exactly am I taking you away from?” I interrupt, surprised at myself. By my sudden thirst for knowledge about the girl beside me. “I know it ain’t a husband and kids you’re leaving behind.”

“No.” She ducks her head and tilts it, sending me a look through some loose strands of red hair. “I don’t think it’s important, do you? If it was important, you would have asked before driving fifty miles.”

“Are you some kind of smart ass, Babs?”

She tries to melt into the passenger door. “No, sir.”

“Knock that off,” I mutter, irritated that I spooked her when she’d looked so fizzy moments earlier. “I was only messing with you. Get used to it.”

For about half a mile, all she does is fidget. Then, “I left behind a great life. A big house with a pool and a waterslide. Supportive parents who cooked all the time. We even went on a vacation to Mexico once. But I decided it was time for…my own adventure.” Her thighs slide apart on the seat, and my cock molds to my zipper. “I have nothing to complain about, you see? I’m not a complainer, sir. Just a good partner and a hard worker. That’s all.”

Something about her speech nags at me, but I can’t decide exactly why. It’s that feeling of too good to be true you can’t quite fully believe. Her home life isn’t my business, though. Hell, it ain’t her business anymore either, because she just rode into the sunset with the devil. “I see.”

A mile passes in silence. “Do you mind me asking you a question, sir?”

“That’s about enough of that sir business, Babs.” I steer with my knee a moment while I roll down the window and light a cigarette. “You can call me Dash.”

“Mister Dash. Okay.” She taps a finger against her knee, completely missing my exasperated eye-roll. “What happened to your last assistant?”

A flame bursts to life in my gut. “Irreconcilable differences.”

“W-was she your girlfriend?”

The way she says girlfriend is so muffled and rushed, I can tell she started regretting the question about halfway through asking it. There’s something else, though. The way her always-busy hands are twisting in her too-short skirt, the fact that she can’t look directly at me. Almost like relationships are a new topic for her and bam. I know it right then. I know sure as I’m breathing this girl is a virgin. This leggy redhead with an angel’s voice and tits that would turn God into a sinner has never been laid.

Agony and shame collide when my cock only gets harder, longer, hungrier.

“Why are you asking?” I rasp, dragging hard on my cigarette, before flicking it out the window onto the road.

“I guess I’m wondering, Mister Dash, if…if being your girlfriend is part of the deal.” Her hands clap to her cheeks, eyes slamming shut. “I don’t mean to imply you need to advertise for a girlfriend. You’re obviously very handsome. But seeing as how we’re going to be spending time together, I wondered if you…will expect certain things from me. So I can prepare myself. For those things.”

By the time she finishes, her voice has dropped to a whisper and I’m on the edge. Man, I’m so on the edge, I’m about to fall off. I could tell her, yes, being my convenient fuck is part of the job description. And this girl of unknown age would oblige me. She’d let me spread her wide open and give my cock access to her virgin cunt, any time I please.

When I woke up this morning, this was not on the agenda. Not today, not ever.

Another thing that hadn’t been on the agenda? The resurrection of my ability to give a damn about anything but myself. My needs. Because while I’d like to fuck her into the next calendar year, I just can’t bring myself to be this girl’s ruination. She’s like a rare flower perched on the seat beside me, housing a gift that could make her millions in recording contracts. But she’s gotten stuck with a soulless con man instead. I’m going to use her voice to line my pockets with cash. I can’t be the sick individual who slakes his lust on her young body, too. Something inside me won’t allow it.

Miracles do happen. Who knew?

I know my silence has gone on too long because of what she says next. “I know I’m probably not the kind of girl you’re used to…”

“Hey,” I bark, cutting her off. “What kind of nonsense are you talking over there?” She opens her mouth and closes it. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? I think they painted you on the ceiling of some church in Italy.”

She ducks her head so fast, I almost miss her smile. She didn’t know. She honestly didn’t know how beautiful she is, and that is a crime against civilization. “Thank you for saying that.” Fidget. Fidget. “Does that mean—”

“No, it doesn’t mean,” I respond adamantly before I can give in to lust, slapping a hand on the steering wheel. “It doesn’t mean being my girl is part of the gig. My last assistant was a lesbian with a serious girlfriend, all right? That put your mind at ease?”

“Yes, Mister Dash. Thank you.”

“Great. Fabulous.” I shake my pack of cigarettes and curse when I find it empty. I’m going to need a carton to keep my hands occupied and off little Babette. Don’t ask her age. Don’t do it.

Why? Because maybe there’s an undeniable part of me that knows I’m fighting a losing battle when it comes to looking and not touching. And I’d rather not know exactly how much of a nasty bastard I am when that time comes. Rather not have a number in my mind when I’m listening to her scream in my ear, her claws digging into my back.

“We’re stopping for the night just outside of Shreveport,” I say, watching her straighten at my low tone. “That’s when you’ll get your first lesson.”

God help me.