Duplicity (3 page)

The expression that twisted Frank’s face was chilling. That
was when she knew with certainty her first assessment was right. He was
trouble. He was one of
those
guys. The world was his, and her body was
nothing but a toy to him.

“Hey, Francis,” someone said in a booming voice. Frank
stopped mid-step. “It’s a small world. I wouldn’t have expected to run into you
here.”

Lilith had never been more relieved and elated to see
someone in her life. “If you’ll excuse me, it looks like I almost forgot about
my appointment,” she said to Frank, stepping to Trey’s side and looping her arm
through his.
“Silly me.”

Pushing up on her tiptoes, she kissed Trey—a long, slow,
hot kind of kiss. His gasp of surprise was muffled against her mouth, but he
got the idea just a second later. He returned her kiss with gusto, his hand
cupped against her cheek.

When she pulled back, she wound her arm around his waist
and leaned against his side to look at Frank.

He was glowering. “You make appointments?” He sounded
suspicious.

“Sorry, bud. You snooze, you lose.” He winked at Frank and
put his arm around her shoulder as he guided her toward the door.

They got outside the club, and Lilith pulled away. “Sorry
about that, kid.”

“Was he bothering you?” His tone was
calm,
and his stance casual when he asked, but there was an intense look in his eyes.

Lilith shrugged. “He was just a bit thick.
In the big head.”
She jerked her thumb at the club. “Some of
the jackasses in there don’t understand that we still get a choice in the
matter. We can choose our,
er
 .
 . . customers.”

He hummed in response.

“So you knew that prick?”

Trey snorted. “Good
ol
’ Francis
was a TA when I was an undergrad. He hates me because I’m smarter than he is,
even though he’s got a few years on me.”

“Well, no offense, but it doesn’t seem like it would take
much to be smarter than him.” Shaking off the remainder of her nerves, she
smiled up at him, making her expression sly and inviting.
“So.
Did you come back for more, or were you looking for one of the others? Just
because I told that asshole we had an appointment doesn’t mean you’re on the
hook.”

He pretended to sigh. “Well, I have no choice now. If I go
back in there, I’ll get a reputation for being a minuteman.”

Lilith nodded with mock seriousness. She put her thumb to
her lower lip, pouting it out. “Won’t you allow me to rectify the situation?”

His smile crawled up his face and he offered his hand. “We
might be able to work something out.”

Chapter 3

Lilith wasn’t going to win any awards for best guest. Miss Manners
would be horrified. For one thing, she’d walked into
Mal’s
apartment unannounced, pushing by one of his roommates without so much as a
‘how you doing’. Then, rather than being attentive, she was sitting in his
room, on his bed, spaced out.

It wasn’t often Lilith visited
Mal’s
apartment, and with good reason. Sitting in his room never failed to throw into
sharp relief how surreal their friendship was.
Mal’s
personal space was a room in an apartment he shared with three other
undergrads. A glance showed a staggering difference between his life and hers.
Beyond his room, the apartment was spotless. How he managed that when it was
four guys—and their significant others more often than not—in one space was
beyond Lilith.

It looked like the apartment of a normal twenty-year-old man.

Not that she and Dana were slobs. Their apartment just always
looked cluttered and dingy. Lived in, she supposed, just like the she felt: a
little worn, a little shabby.

Then again, everything about Mal and his life was neater. Of the three
of them, he’d managed to get out of childhood with his feet on solid ground
beneath him. He’d gone straight from high school to college on a full
scholarship. He worked hard at a student job to pay for his share of the
apartment, and he had a beautiful, talented girlfriend who was likewise putting
herself through school. Unlike Lilith and Dana, he had no record. He’d kept his
nose clean even though he’d been through the same bullshit.

It wasn’t to say he’d made it out of their ordeal unscathed, but
he was doing well.

Lilith wondered if Mal would have anything to do with her if it
wasn’t for Dana, or if they hadn’t been thrown together by shared
circumstances. They hadn’t been that good of friends before seventh grade. If
they’d met now, there would be no chance of them being friends at all.

For some reason, it all made her think of Trey and his immaculate
home. She’d felt out of place both times she’d been there, as though she didn’t
belong in clean places with nice things.

The night before, she’d tried to keep them in his car. She’d spent
the drive to his place whispering filthy things in his ear, determined to
distract him from his strange inquisitiveness. Her dirty mouth and her fingers
traipsing along his inner thigh worked for a time. When they’d arrived at his
place, he only got out of the car long enough to pull her into the backseat.

When she was straddling his lap and he was sliding inside her, it
occurred to Lilith that she’d missed him. She realized then she was glad he’d
come back, glad they had more time together.

More than once, since their first encounter, Lilith had wondered
if the way Trey had treated her, the way he’d looked at her would change if
they saw each other again. Had it been just the mood he was in that night? Or
was it that he’d been thinking of someone else? Often the men who came into
their club had a particular person in mind - someone who was forbidden to them.

Lilith didn’t much care one way or
another what
the men who were with her thought, but she had to admit if she had a least
favorite client, it would be the ones who were pretending she was someone
specific. It wasn’t that it bothered her that they asked her to wear certain
items or
they
called out different names—none of them
were with
her
when they were together anyway. It was the look on their
faces when they realized it was all a fleeting delusion.

No one wanted to be looked at like that—like their mere presence
was a letdown.

But Trey treated her with the same degree of gentleness as before.
Even in the darkness of the private carport, she could see his eyes intent on
her as they moved together. His fingers, curled on either side of her hip,
caressed her skin.

Further proving he was unchanged, even as they found a comfortable
rhythm, he’d begun throwing questions again.

Did she have a favorite position, as he used his nose to tilt her
head back so he could kiss her neck?

Was her favorite position the same as the one she was best at, as
his hands splayed wide over her bare back?

Struck by the absurdity of the situation—it was like having a calm
business conversation while she was riding him like a show pony—she’d giggled.
It was such an honest, unplanned response, it had startled her.

The motion of her laughter and the effect it had on the way they
were connected made him gasp, and he’d been distracted enough to give in to the
language of sex. It was a guttural language—all sighs and moans. There was no
room for talk, and Lilith was back in her element. She was fluent in this dialect.

When it was over, she’d let him lay her down on the seat. He
seemed to want to take care of her, so she let him button her back up.

He’d gotten out of the car then, holding his hand out palm up. He
held a bill in his other hand, extending it to her. “
Come inside
?”

It struck her that even though he was paying, he was not
demanding. He’d offered her a choice without assuming.

“Hey, Lil.”

Lilith snapped out of her reverie, blinking as Mal waved his hand
in front of her eyes. He chuckled. “Are you okay? I mean, not that I mind you
hanging around while I do all this fascinating homework, but you’ve been kind
of staring off for almost an hour now.” He winked at her. “The silence is a
welcome change and all, but it’s a little unnerving.”

She shook her head, searching for a quick comeback, but her
thoughts trailed off before she could say anything. Looking down at her lap,
she worried a bit of his comforter through her fingers before she spoke. “I
make up stories.” She had no real idea why her stomach twisted with guilt.
“For the guys at the club.
Sometimes I tell them things
about me that
aren’t
true.”

Mal sucked in a quick breath. He didn’t like talking about what
she did for a living. In the past, he’d made it clear he didn’t think any less
of her—he of all people understood why she did it—but he wasn’t comfortable
with it either.

 “Is that wrong?” She didn’t understand why she was asking or
what she wanted him to say. “I tell them what they want to hear so they’ll come
back. Steady customers are my bread and butter, but is that the same gray moral
territory as bait and switch tactics? I wouldn’t want to be like one of those
shady salespeople.”

Somewhere, she was well aware she was babbling, but in all
honesty, the thoughts in her head made less sense than the ones she was giving
voice to. She was having a hard time pinning down what was bothering her.

When several seconds went by without an answer, Lilith chanced a
glance up. Mal wasn’t looking at her but off in the distance, as if he weren’t
seeing anything. After another moment, he looked up at her and answered. “You
know how I feel about what you do, Lilith.”

“That’s not what I asked.” She sighed, already regretting bringing
it up. “Don’t start with this shit. Just because what I do isn’t strictly legal
doesn’t mean I’m doing anything wrong in any real sense—at least it’s not more
wrong than you lighting up the occasional doobie.” She folded her arms across
her chest. “Just because people are still so damned puritanical about sex
doesn’t mean I’m not making an honest living. I’ve got ethics.”

“I’m not going to start,” he said, turning back to his computer.
He tapped out a nervous tattoo on the edge of the desk. “You know how
appreciative I am. If it wasn’t for
your .
 . .
sacrifice . . . well, you know I don’t like to think about what
would have happened to Dana. But it’s just not fair.”

Turning back to her, he scooted his computer chair closer,
dropping his voice. “What happened to you happened to all of us.”

Lilith
gasped,
her body jolting with
shock and discomfort. He knew better than to bring this up.

Still, Mal continued. “I’m getting through school, and I have
Erin. Dana is in school, thanks to you, and she’s pulling herself together.” He
sighed. “What does Lilith get?”

He shook his head, guilt heavy in his eyes. “When I’m done with
school, in a couple of years—”

She cut him off.

“I’ve
gotta
eat now. Dana and I need a
roof over our heads
now
.”

Again he sighed, his eyes sad as he looked down at the floor. “I
know.” He took a deep breath. “Until then no, I don’t suppose it’s wrong to lie
to men who pay for sex.” He chuffed. “It’s like anyone else, I guess. People
ask how you are, but they don’t want to hear the answer anyway.”

Lilith wondered why she didn’t feel comforted by his words.

~0~

Back home, Lilith found she wasn’t able to shake the distraction.
No matter how often she tried to push the memories away, they wouldn’t leave.
She tried to be productive, even going as far as setting out to clean the moldy
grout in the bathroom, but that was the opposite of helpful. The task was
mind-numbing, and when she spaced out again, she had no control over her
thoughts.

As she scrubbed, she replayed the night before.

Once she had confirmed that he was interested in a repeat
performance—that was her trade, and that was what she expected to be paid
for—Lilith agreed to come inside.

 Rather than segue into anything sexual, he took her hand,
leading her to the couch. Reading her expression, he grinned and explained,
“I’m young and virile, but even I need a little recovery time.”

So they sat, and she waited. Sure enough, his questions started
right away.

“Does it bother you at all, doing this?”

The look she gave him was scathing. “Does it bother you?” See how
he liked it when the questioning was turned around on him.

But rather than get defensive, a thoughtful look came over his
face, and he leaned back, his hands behind his head. “It doesn’t bother me in
the slightest, and I don’t understand why it should bother anyone, to be
honest.”

When she didn’t speak, he continued. “To me, it’s an extension of
the freedom of choice. I don’t believe we have the right to dictate or regulate
what a person does with their body. You’re a consenting adult. I’m a consenting
adult. The choice we’ve made here was agreed upon by both parties.”

Curious now, she pulled her legs up, sitting cross-legged on the
couch. “What’s the draw for you? Not for nothing, kid, but you’re plenty
attractive. It’s obvious you’re some kind of wunderkind if you’re in a graduate
program at twenty-one, so I know you’re smart. And you’ve got money. You have
to be able to get a date whenever it strikes your fancy.”

He smirked. “Well, sure. And I do date. But because we—we being
society—have tangled up sex with morals and virtue, it’s all unnecessarily
complicated. I’d just as soon not open that can of worms.

“So yes, I can get dates, and I can get sex without paying for it,
but who cares? There are all kinds of services you pay for every day that you
can get done for free. I know how to change the oil on my car, but I never do.
I pay someone else to do it for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You know how to change the oil on your
car?”

He made a face. “Well, I could. I’ve heard it’s not difficult. You
can find a YouTube how-to video for anything, and like you said.” He flashed a
grin that was all teeth. “I am smart.”

Lilith laughed, and she covered her mouth with her hand almost as
soon as the sound slipped out. She cleared her throat. “That’s about how I feel
about it. Sometimes people come into the club to preach at me—either I’m a
sinner or they’re so sure I need help because I’ve been abused.”

He rolled his head so he could look at her, his eyes as gentle as
his tone. “You were abused, though.”

She flinched, a slight thrill of panic rolling up her spine before
she remembered what she’d told him before.

For each of the costumes she favored, she had a persona and a
history. The “innocent” school-girl didn’t have the same sad story as naughty
nurse.

“Still,” she said. “Maybe what happened to me just taught me to
see through the nonsense people spout about sex. If that guy could do that to
me,
it’s
obvious sex doesn’t have to be about some
mystical connection. If anything, since I’ve had the choice taken out of my
hands by force, I think people telling me my choice is wrong is ten times
crappier than anything I’m doing.”

“Like I said, it’s just another form of control and anti-choice
behavior,” Trey agreed. “That kind of judgment on sex is all the worse because
women are almost exclusively the targets. Women who make the choice to give
their bodies more freely than someone else would are abused, or worse, they’re
sluts.” He shook his head. “The word
slut
should not exist.
The stigma surrounding sex should not exist.”