Duplicity (4 page)

 “I saw you when you first came into the club, you know,” she
teased. “You looked guilty.”

His expression was bemused. “Well, that was an automatic reaction.
Society again.
There is a stigma around sex, and an
even larger one about your industry. But in all things, no matter what popular
opinion tries to dictate, I try to think for myself.”

He angled his body toward her, beginning to draw his finger up the
line of her neck. His voice was much huskier when he spoke. “I’ve examined the
situation from many angles.” His eyes raked over her form. She didn’t miss the
double entendre. “And I find no logical reason why anyone should look down on
either of us for having sex whenever we please with whomever we please.” His
fingers were working her hair out of the ponytail she wore. He looked smug and
satisfied when her hair spilled across her shoulders. “And if money is
exchanged, I don’t understand why that’s anyone’s business.”

His hands wandered down her body, and he brushed his thumb over
her nipple, still speaking. “As with anything that involves another person,
there is a definite responsibility. It’s important to be on the same page. It’s
important not to lie.”

Her heart stuttered, but he didn’t seem to notice the way her body
stiffened.

“But the idea that some
kinds of sex are wrong or bad right off the bat?
That idea is just dumb.”

“Right.”

Snap out of it
, she chastised herself. His hands were
wandering. She knew what he wanted, and she had a job to do. Pushing away the
sudden rush of guilt, she got her head in the game.

“You’re going to scrub a hole in the wall.”

Brought out of her memory, Lilith sat up straight, hissing when
she realized she’d been bent over for too long. Her body protested as she
dropped the brush and stretched her arms out, rotating her sore wrist.

From the doorway, Dana looked bewildered. “What the heck are you
doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“I think you got that spot,” Dana said. “Why are you scrubbing the
walls?”

Lilith shrugged. “I don’t
know.”She
wasn’t in the mood for girl chat. Dana would have questions she didn’t know how
to answer. “Seemed like the thing to do.”

Dana laughed, offering her hand to help Lilith up. “Girl, you’ve
got to get out more.”

Chapter 4

“You’re shitting me. You are lying to me right now.”

“Would I lie about something like this?”

Lilith grabbed her sides, laughing so hard she ached.

“It’s not
so
funny,” Trey groused, crossing his arms.

“Oh God.”
It
was hard to breathe through paroxysms of laughter. “Yes it is. It really is.”
She sat up on the bed, wiping tears from under her eyes. “Your name is Oswald
Fitz Bauer the Third?”

He made a face at her, but there was amusement in his eyes. “You
were named after a demon. You know that, right?”

Lilith giggled. “Okay, okay.” She took deep breaths, trying to
calm down. “Where do you get Trey from Oswald?”

“I don’t. Trey is from the third.”

She had to press her lips together to keep from laughing again.
“Well, given the choice between Oswald, Fitz, and Trey, I guess that’s an
obvious decision.” She lay back down, still tittering every now and again.

“Well, what’s your full name?”

“Lilith Medusa Damon,” she lied without blinking an eyelash.

He pushed up onto one arm so he was leaning over her.
“Seriously?”

She pursed her lips. “What? My parents were playing up the whole
last name thing.”

“They could have been more subtle. They could have named you Demon
Demon
Damon.”

“That’s my brother’s name.”

He looked at her for a full two seconds before he laughed, ducking
so his forehead rested on her shoulder.

This is nice
, she thought as she ran her fingers
through his hair.
Weird, but nice.
It struck her as
strange on multiple levels. First, and probably foremost, was how much fun she
had when she was with him. In most cases her clients had their fun and returned
to their real lives. She’d never had casual conversation and teasing after sex.
She was lying nude in his bed, but they weren’t doing anything sexual. She was
still on the clock, but as he never failed to point out, he had to recoup
sometime. As a result, in between trysts, there was conversation and this
somewhat surreal affinity between them.

He lifted his head, tracing her lip with the tip of his finger.
“You’ve got that look on your face. You’re worried about something.”

“Not worried,” she said.
Worried
was not the right word.

“Then?”

She shrugged. “I think I have too much fun with you.”

His eyebrows knitted together, but his lips lifted at the corner.
“This is a bad thing?”

“Seems like cheating, doesn’t it?”

He folded his arms, resting one elbow across her body and the
other on his pillows. “It’s all about job performance. There’s nothing wrong
with having a little fun at work if you’re fulfilling all your duties.” His
grin was impish. “We’re friends.”

“We are?”

“Sure.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it typical for you to pay your friends
for sex?”

As though he’d been anticipating that question, he had an answer
ready. “Not for sex but other services. What do you pay your friends to do?”

“I can’t say I pay my friends for anything.”

“Well, I do.
My friend Angelique?
She’s
an excellent massage therapist. I used to let her practice on me when she was
in training.”

“How very generous of you.”

“I do try,” he said with mock gravity. “But I pay her going rate when
I want a massage now. Though every once in a while, she does throw in a free
five-minute shoulder massage.” He gave her an innocent look. “So if you want to
throw me a little freebie, I won’t tell anyone.”

Rolling her eyes, she sat up, leaning against the headboard. She
patted the bed between her spread legs. “Come here.”

Trey was, of course, game. He crawled over to her, leaning back
against her chest. She began to massage his shoulders. “On the house,” she
whispered in his ear in a sultry tone. He chuckled.

“Can I ask you a serious question?” he asked after a few quiet
moments.

Lilith tensed, her fingers stilling on his neck. She huffed,
continuing her massage. “You’re telling me all the questions you’ve asked me
before weren’t serious, or you’ve just decided to ask permission now?”

He hummed an acknowledgement but otherwise waited for her answer.

She grumbled but waved her hand. “Go ahead.”

Even then he took his time, and she found a smile was playing at
her lips when he moaned in appreciation of her kneading fingers. “You parents,
the one who gave you your demonic
name .
 . .”

 “What about them?”

“What did they do? About the man who hurt you, I mean.”

She paused before she answered. She knew what to say already. Each
and every one of the personas she wore had an in-depth background. They were
everything from the rebelling daughter of rich parents to the sexually
repressed housewife. The poor little schoolgirl had one of the darker pasts
she’d dreamed up. “It was just my father and me. He told me to be quiet and not
to make a scene,” she said as if it didn’t matter. And really, it didn’t. That
hadn’t happened to her.

“Your father is an asshole.”

Lilith bristled.

In actuality, her father was a very sweet man, and she felt
protective even though she knew Trey wasn’t really talking about him. Her head
spun, and she changed up her story. “Well, he was my stepfather. My mother died
when I was young, and he just got stuck with me.” She squirmed, realizing her
lie was part truth. That was closer to reality than she was comfortable with.

Trey was quiet, gathering his thoughts no doubt. When he spoke
again, his voice was more lighthearted, teasing. “That’s a little cliché, isn’t
it?”

“How’s that?”

“No positive female influence in your life. Some would say that’s
why you choose to do what you do.”

She snorted. She was familiar with this one, too. “Ah, yes. No one
was there to teach me how to respect my body.” She became a little rougher than
necessary with her fingers. His breath caught, but he didn’t ask her to stop.
“I respect my body plenty,” she said, a hint of bitterness coloring her tone.
“I’m always safe.”

“Not for nothing, but blow jobs aren’t safe sex, Lily.”

 “Have you gotten a blow job from me?”

 “No, but you offered that first night.”

She grunted. “I was goading you, fool. I knew you weren’t going to
settle for a blow job, and if you had tried, I would have convinced you
otherwise.”

“That I believe.”

In the silence that followed, it struck her again how unusual this
whole situation was. Her clients tended to talk down to her.
Baby,
sweetie, sugar.
They cooed at her or commanded her, but they never spoke
to her the way Trey always had.

He spoke to her as an equal, as though she was capable of
intelligent discourse with an Ivy League grad student.

“For the record, kid, if you told me you were clean, I would
believe you.” She tried to come off as casual, but there was eagerness to her
tone. Not so much that she was dying to have her lips around his cock, but
maybe she wanted to show she appreciated that he treated her like a fellow
human being.

“Well, I am clean.” He sat up straight, maneuvering around until
he was cross-legged in front of her. He held his out his hands, and she let him
pull her into his lap. He snaked his hands between them, his hands wandering,
touching, caressing as he began to speak. “Why do you always call me kid,
anyway?”

Lilith was somewhat distracted, trying to remember to react to his
touch. Tiny moans. He liked those little mewling noises.

Why did she call him kid, she wondered? And when had that started?
She was all about blowing sunshine and rainbows up her clients’ asses; that was
good business no matter what industry she worked in. It was in her best
interest to make them feel like God’s gift to the universe so they would keep
coming back to have their egos stroked again, among other things.

He lowered his head, nipping at her shoulder. “I bet—”
lick,
kiss
“—you’re younger than me.”

“Um.”
There was a haze over her thoughts that Lilith was not at all used to. Her body
felt so warm. She blew out a breath, trying to think straight. “Age is just a
number, baby. Besides, ‘it’s not the years. It’s the mileage.’”

His snort was hot against her skin. “Indiana Jones,” he mumbled.

“Wise words are wise no matter whose mouth they came from.”

They moved together into the lotus position. She reached back,
groping around the nightstand until she found the condoms, and helped him slide
one on. It was more habit than anything. As they’d just discussed, she trusted
he was clean, and she was on the pill.

“Is your name really Medusa Damon?” he asked as they began to move
together.

“Yes.”

“Do you really have a brother?”

“No.” This was also a lie. She did have a brother.

But she didn’t want to talk about him—not even to Trey.

Chapter 5

Lilith breezed into the club in a good mood. She had a couple of
detours to make before she headed for the dressing room.

First, Ethan. She wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight
hug, using her closeness to slip a little something in his back pocket. When he
pulled away, his hands went to his ass, and he found the movie tickets she’d
put there.

He grinned.
“Good month, huh?”

She always got him a little something, a tip of sorts, when she’d
had a good month. After all, not only did he not make tips, but he had to watch
all sorts of pretty he couldn’t have wander right past his nose. “Date night on
me,” she said, handing him another gift card, this one for a nice restaurant
near the theater.

His eyebrows arched. “Wow.
Very good month,
then.”

Rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Okay. I have to
see Smith. See you out there.”

She meandered into her boss’s small office space, tossing an
envelope on his desk. Smith looked up, pulling the fat envelope over to him and
staring at her for a beat longer than normal. “You have steady business?” Smith
was careful as always to keep any accusation out of his voice. He could have
been talking about the weather.

For some reason, his question put her on the defensive. “So what
if I do?”

“Don’t get testy. It’s just an observation. You didn’t go home
with as many clients as you could have in the last few weeks.”

“Yes, I have a regular who keeps me busy.”

“Hmm.”

“You have your cut, so what do you care?”

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. “Again, it’s just an
observation.” He looked toward the door. “Now go get dressed.”

She did as she was told, wandering into the dressing room,
wondering why she felt
so .
 . . would
protective be the right word? It was hard to pinpoint why Trey and the arrangement
she had with him made her nervous sometimes. Most of them being fickle frat
boys, her regulars came and went; they were only regular for a few weeks or a
couple months at a time.

An uncomfortable feeling had begun to settle in the pit of her stomach.
It was beginning to occur to her that if Trey outgrew their partnership, she
stood to lose something.

The thought put a damper on her mood.

As she dressed, reaching for the Goth outfit, she tried to lower
her raised hackles. For the kind of work he did, Smith wasn’t a bad guy. People
had a certain image in mind when they thought of any man who would own a club
where women sold their bodies. Smith, his club, and his girls didn’t match the
preconceived notions people came in with for the most part. Hell, the lies
Lilith spun to keep her clients interested were much more exciting than any of
the girls’ real stories, her own included.

All of Smith’s girls were clean and regularly tested. They were
held to strict standards. Most of them were good girls just trying to work
their way through college like anyone else. They had their problems, but none
of them were coked out or anything of that nature.

It could have been a lot worse. Maybe she didn’t get benefits and
a 401k, but Smith was fair. Dana often complained the girls at the office where
she worked part-time were backstabbing vixens. The girls at the club tried to
help each other as much as they could. They all had bills to pay and times were
hard.

Calmer now, Lilith spent some time straightening her black hair.
She finished off the look with too much dark eye makeup and black lipstick.

The Goth girl was standoffish, so she didn’t approach any of the
milling patrons. Instead, she sat on the edge of the stage, crossing her legs.
Lilith wasn’t very tall, but her legs looked long for someone so short. That
night they were encased in black fishnets that disappeared under a super short,
dark purple skirt. She leaned back, both of her hands on the stage, showing off
the way her body looked in the dark corset she wore.

Some men found the Goth girl’s total lack of interest appealing.
The thrill of the chase, she supposed. So she bounced one leg, put on a bored
expression, and waited for the little fishes to take the bait.

It didn’t take too long. A couple of drunken buddies wandered over
within a few minutes. She traded a few coy words with them, flicking their
hands off her leg when they tried to touch. It was the appeal of what they
couldn’t have that drove them, and sure enough, they started digging deeper for
the pleasure of having a piece of her.

Before she could seal the deal, though, an imposing figure
sauntered over.

“Move along, children. This
one .
 . .”
He trailed off as he took a good look at her. “Oh, it’s you.”

Of course, Lilith would know him anywhere. It was dear Francis.

She sat up, her body tensed and her eyes scanning the crowd for
Ethan.

“Never mind, boys.” Frank stepped back, crossing his arms and
glaring at her. “But if you want my advice, you’ll stay away from this one.” He
pointed at her. “Oswald is a filthy piece of work. If you’d open your legs up
for him, your standards are too low for my taste.”

Lilith let a slow smirk come over her face.
“Oh,
Francis.”
Her voice dripped with condescension. She splayed her hand on
his chest, drawing her fingers up to tap his chin. “You’re just mad that my
standards are too high, and you’ll never get a piece of this.”

With that, she jumped off the stage, looking over her shoulder at
the perplexed buddies. “As for you boys, you’re cute enough. I’ll be around if
you shake your friend here.” She glanced at the furious scowl on Frank’s face
and winked before she walked off, her hips swaying in time with the club’s
pulsing beat.

~0~

It was the small hours of the morning when Lilith walked out of
the club. She yawned, ready to be home and in bed. Luckily, Dana had lent her
the car, so she didn’t have to walk or find a taxi.

The night was cold enough that she let the car idle for a few
minutes. She rubbed her hands together, blowing into them.

After a moment, her skin began to crawl. She looked around,
positive someone was watching her.

Sure enough, across the lot she saw a familiar figure. Frank. In
the darkness, it was hard to say if it was her he was looking at. He was leaning
on the roof of his car, turned in her direction, just standing there.
Being creepy.

Then again, he’d been an idiot all night. If he thought she was
unaware he’d been staring, he was mistaken.

It had been a slow kind of night. The drunken buddies had paid her
well enough to let them do shots from her cleavage. After that, it had been
dance after dance after lap dance.

The whole time, she’d felt Frank’s eyes on her, had seen his
glower when she happened to glance in his direction. At one point, he’d been
loud enough that it was clear he was trying to draw attention to himself. He
had Ginger on his lap, and she was playing it up like she was having a grand
ol
’ time. He’d looked at Lilith with purpose then, his
expression cocky, as if he was trying to show her what she was missing.

Idiot.

At some point, it had become a battle of the wills. She was
determined to show him he wasn’t getting to her even though, when he looked at
her like that, she felt dirty. It had taken everything in her not to ask Ethan to
see him out. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

So though she was ten times more
creeped
out now—it was the middle of the night in a darkened parking lot after all—she
resisted the urge to throw her car into drive and get the hell out of there.
Instead, she just stared right back.

He gave in first. It was a couple minutes before he got in his car
and peeled away, tires squealing.

Breathing a little easier, Lilith cranked up the heater and drove
home.

For the most part, her mind was blank as she drove. She had the
next couple days off, which was nice. The only thing on her docket was a tryst
with Trey, and that was hardly
work
anymore.

All in all, even with Frank being a jerk, it had been a good day.

As always, Lilith was as quiet as possible as she slid the key in
the door. The apartment she shared with Dana was a one bedroom. They alternated
who slept on the pull-out bed of the sofa and who got the bedroom. This week
was Dana’s week on the couch, and Lilith didn’t want to wake her up.

When she got inside, however, she saw that her discretion had been
unnecessary. Dana was thrashing and whimpering in her sleep. Her nightmares got
pretty horrendous some nights—it looked like tonight was one of those nights.

Kneeling on the crappy mattress, Lilith ran her fingers through
Dana’s blond hair, careful to avoid the snarls. “Come on, honey. You’re okay.
Wake up.” She spoke in a soft murmur, trying to comfort her.

The nightmares were scary, but once upon a time, Lilith would come
home to find Dana strung out on whatever drug someone had pressed on her that
night. There weren’t a lot she hadn’t tried. But that part of her life was done
now, and the nightmares were part of dealing with the things she’d once chased
away with drugs.

So Lilith was thankful to be dealing with a nightmare. It broke
her heart every time Dana woke up like this. It was difficult to hear her
friend’s incoherent, terrified jabbering as she shook in her arms. But as hard
as it was, seeing her friend this broken was preferable to seeing her climbing
the walls, about to do something dangerous.

She kept Dana tight in her arms, rocking her and rubbing her back
as she cried. It was twenty minutes before the nightmare released its hold on
her, and she was coherent and stable again.

Dana buried her head on Lilith’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Her voice
was a timorous whisper.

“Don’t give me that sorry shit. You’re fine.” By now Dana knew she
wasn’t going to put up with self-pity.

Even though they were the same age, it was nights like these that
made Lilith feel like a much older sister. She wiped the tears off Dana’s
cheeks and hugged her again. “Do you want me to call Mal?”

Dana shook her head, hiccupping.

“Okay. Come on.” She stood and tugged at her friend’s hand. “Let’s
go to sleep.”

Dana followed her like an obedient child, clinging to her hand as
they padded down the hall to the bedroom. Lilith led Dana over to the bed. She
guided her down before finally releasing her hand. They were only separated
long enough for Lilith to get out of her clothes and into the tatty pajama
pants and old t-shirt she used as nightclothes. When Lilith got under the
covers, Dana cuddled up to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lilith scratched Dana’s head the
way she knew she liked.

The other girl shook her head no. “Just want to sleep.”

“Okay.”

She watched over her friend, scratching her head in a comforting
gesture until the other girl’s breathing evened out. Only when she was sure
Dana’s sleep was peaceful did Lilith allow herself the same
luxury.