Touch Slowly (Red Light: Silver Girls series) (4 page)

T
he last knock on Nova's room came. She remained in the half closed bathroom as instructed by her madam and yawned, covering her mouth. After sneaking back inside early in the morning from her quick escape to the trailer park—thankful she had enough twine to double up and pull the ladder down without it breaking—she only slept a few hours before the noise on the second floor of the building woke her. Then, she'd joined the other ladies for lunch in the kitchen area.

The door to her room closed, and she strutted out, her short robe opened to her naked body.

The tall customer stood with his back to her. She stopped at the end of the bed, ready to finish working for the night.

"There's a condom on the dresser. Put it on." She placed her hand on her hip and kept her voice firm with authority. "What's your name?"

A gruff voice answered her. "Joe."

Unsurprising, he was the third customer who claimed his name was Joe today. Why men chose the name Joe when visiting prostitutes escaped her.

She only knew every time she fucked a Joe; it felt a little like revenge to the original Joe who took her mom away from her. Sex with a Joe was her way of silently shouting the proverbial 'fuck you' at her mom for leaving her behind.

She watched to make sure he put on the condom. A rule that left no room for mistakes.

Nova walked up to him, gazed down at his hardened cock covered with protection, and stepped around him. "You're going to fuck me now and like it."

Brown hair fell forward as the man nodded his head in agreement. "I will."

She pointed to the bed where a rubber backed throw rug lay on the comforter. "Sit down."

Men who wanted a bossy, dominating woman for sex at Red Light bordello requested her services. She sighed loudly in impatience to hurry the customer along. Her personality naturally came out assertive. She had a lifetime of looking out for herself. People would claim to have her back, but she depended on no one.

He moved to pull down his pants down past his hips. She put her hand up stopping him and shook her head. "That's far enough."

His cock bobbed out in the opening of his unzipped jeans. She followed him to the bed and waited for him to sit on the edge. Ninety percent of the time, the men who came to her for sex repulsed her. Introverted men who lacked the courage to forge a relationship with an independent woman on the outside. The other ten percent of men came to her with a desire to leave their normal macho ways at the door and let a woman take the lead.

She led all of them with a no-give attitude that kept them all at a distance. The rules helped her stay in control.

"Lay back." She straddled his legs, moved up on the bed, and guided his covered cock inside of her. "Put your arms above your head and don't touch me."

She used the strength in her thighs to lift and lower herself on him. Once Joe closed his eyes, she looked toward the sliding glass doors. She'd promised herself not to go back to Shayla's house too often as to stay under the radar, but tonight the Silver Girl dancers opened downstairs, and everyone's focus centered on keeping the peace around the building. It'd be a perfect time to leave and visit her cousins.

Joe groaned. She dug her toes into the rug and moved faster with the goal to keep the customer under his allotted fifteen minutes he'd paid for. Her hair fell over her shoulder in front of her, and she used both hands to pull all the strands to her back. The no-touching rule, besides the obvious of fucking and sucking, came in handy when she had other things on her mind.

Like, should she go to Shayla's tonight or wait until tomorrow?

Hanging out on the roof every night with the three other ladies from the Network had already become repetitive. Maybe she'd call it an early night, hang out in her room, and catch up on the sleep she'd lost last night.

Joe's pelvis thrust and his breathing filled the room. Her legs not even tired from the exercise, she kept the up and down motion and the second Joe reached orgasm, she leaned to one side and removed herself from atop him.

"Damn good." Joe lowered his arms and closed his eyes.

Nova nudged the end of the bed with her knee. "Time's up."

"Right." Joe groaned into a sitting position and stood.

She pointed to the wastebasket by the door. "Condom goes in the trash. Zip up or the madam will catch you undressed."

Joe followed her directions. She pulled the edges of her robe closed and crossed her arms. "Leave a tip on the dresser, Joe."

Tiff, the owner and madam of Red Light, swept into the room with her blonde hair waving behind her, right on time. Nova inhaled deeply, her work over for the night.

Joe placed a ten-dollar bill on the dresser, gave Nova a crooked grin, and let Tiff escort him out of the room. Nova pinched the edge of the rug between her fingers and held it arm's length away from her to the laundry basket. She dropped the mat on top of the other rugs she'd used throughout the evening and hurried to the bathroom to wash.

A shower later, the tension in her neck eased. Dressed for dinner, she ignored the dirty laundry basket Marci, Tiff's assistant, would grab while Nova ate, and walked out of her room. It wasn't as if she was a germaphobe. She had sex for a living. But, she liked her living quarters clean, and the smell of men only reminded her of the number of bodies that walked in and out of her room.

None of the customers smelled of Lava soap, unfortunately.

She entered the kitchen area to a room full of women, flung out her arms, and said, "Hey, babes. What's for dinner?"

Marci, wearing an adorable red and white checkered apron, held out a box. "Taco Tuesday from Country Mart deli department. Wait until you try them. They're addicting and loaded with guacamole."

"Sounds delish." Nova sat down at the table.

"I'm taking mine up to the roof." Tawny hoisted her voluptuous body out of the chair, shimmied on her feet, and lifted her shoulder in question at the others. "Who's going with me for some night time entertainment?"

"Whoa...wait." Tiff turned from the sink. "What kind of entertainment are you talking about?"

"Sh," said Nova, speaking loud enough to the other Red Light ladies for Tiff to hear. "Don't tell the boss lady we're rappelling down the side of the building to give free pussy to the bikers."

Tiff's eyes widened, then narrowed. "Please tell me you're joking."

"I don't know what you're talking about, our beautiful madam." Nova grinned and shrugged. "We'd never do anything against the rules. We're law-abiding women."

"Proper and gentle," said Kathryn in her whiskey-drunk sexy voice that had shocked Nova the first time she heard the woman speak but now loved to listen to her.

The last of the group to come from the Network, Tara put a paper plate over her tacos and stood. Her regal high-placed bun and lithe body screamed dainty, despite her six-foot stature. She glided with grace to the door, much like a professional ballerina. "The last chick to the roof has to slide down the rope by herself."

Nova had learned long ago to be upfront with her activities. Whether she hitched a ride or borrowed beer from a neighbor's fridge that sat on the porch of their trailer, she believed people ignored the obvious. Tiff would never suspect her of climbing over her balcony if she already warned her about her plan to escape.

With that realization, she planned to hit Shayla up tonight and jump the joint.

"Very funny, ladies." Tiff's gaze shifted to the door, and she smiled.

Nova glanced over her shoulder. Jeremy, Tiff's man—either her boyfriend or husband, neither one of them wore a ring— only had eyes for the madam.

"I want you down in Silver Girls tonight." Jeremy stepped around the table and hooked Tiff's neck. "Can you make it in an hour?"

A big man, Jeremy seemed to fill the room. Or, maybe that was his attitude which seemed to push everyone but Tiff away.

"Yeah, honey, I can do that." Tiff smoothed the front of Jeremy's jean vest he wore representing the Moroad Motorcycle Club. "Problem?"

Jeremy shook his head. His hand never left Tiff. "Nope. Just want a night with you."

Nova leaned against the table, enthralled with the easy way Tiff and Jeremy communicated. The chance to view love in her line of business rarely came. Though she used to love watching Mr. and Mrs. Camron from the trailer park growing up. Mr. Camron used to walk his wife to her car every morning as they both left for work. Nova would stand at the corner waiting for the school bus and count the seconds it took the Camron's to stop kissing before separating for the day. For some reason, she depended on them to kiss every morning. In a world where people moved frequently and divorce ran rapid between the residents of the park, Mr. and Mrs. Camron gave her security with their morning ritual during a time when she hoped her mom would return and ultimately she'd go to bed every night disappointed when her wish never came true.

Nova grabbed her plate of tacos and a few paper napkins. Without disturbing the madam and her man, she leaned in Kathryn's direction and whispered, "I'm going to eat in my room and go to bed early tonight."

"Something wrong?" Kathryn bit into her taco.

"Nah." Nova glanced at Tiff and made sure she wasn't overheard. "It's the night of the week I try to call my family and check in with them."

"Okay. I'll tell the others." Kathryn raised her thin pencil-dark eyebrows. "Unless...you don't want them to know your personal business."

Nova shrugged. "It's no secret."

She left the kitchen, strolled down the hallway, and locked herself in the bedroom. Taking her dinner out on the balcony, she sat down in the chair and dialed Shayla.

"Yo, Mama Mia's Pizzeria," answered her cousin.

"Hey." Nova took a bite of her taco and spoke around the food, used to Shayla pretending to be someone else when she answered the phone. "What are you up to tonight?"

"Bored stiff. It's Tuesday. Rent is due at the end of the week, and everyone around here is broke." Shayla paused. "Are you eating?"

"Yeah, I'm starving." Nova studied the glob of guacamole that landed on her plate. "Want to pick me up under the viaduct? I guarantee you won't be bored, and I don't have to be back here until five in the morning. We could mess around."

"Sure thing, cuz." Shayla yelled for Nick in the background.

"Are you drunk?" Nova popped the last piece of her taco in her mouth. "I don't want you driving if you're drinking."

"I told you rent is due. I'm not drinking. Last night was a rare moment for me, and I had to do it because Kirkland wouldn't stop daring me to try a new drink he thought would become famous and make him rich." Shayla laughed. "But, look at you being all motherly and worried about me."

"Shut up." Nova swiped her finger on the plate and licked the last drop of guacamole left behind. "Pick me up in an hour and a half. I want to make sure I have the clear to skip out of here."

Once Shayla repeated the pick-up time, Nova leaned back in the chair and put her feet on the railing of the balcony. Her stomach full and content from dinner, she closed her eyes anxious to get out of Red Light and live a little.

T
he engine of the 'Cuda sputtered. Emmett stuck a screwdriver against the flap of the carburetor and tapped the hood. "Hit it."

Nick started the car and the motor chugged and rolled over. Emmett eased the tool away from the flap and stepped back. For the last week, the 'Cuda continued to choke whenever he let the car sit for longer than three hours. A new air filter and some WD-40 would fix the problem.

"Let it run for a few minutes." Emmett walked up to the passenger door and peered in at Nick. "It's just like I thought. The valve isn't opening on its own when it's cold."

Nick stepped out of the car. "Runs better than my rig."

"I'll help you this weekend get your truck running." Emmett removed the light hanging from the car, closed the hood of the car, picked up the old T-shirt off the ground, and wiped the grease off his hands. "Once we get the new fuel injector in at the store, you should be up and running."

"I hope so." Nick handed Emmett a beer. "Meanwhile, Buddy's giving me a ride to the mine, and I'm stuck sniffing exhaust fumes coming through the rusty floorboard of his Buick."

Emmett laughed and walked over to the burn barrel, spotting a group of five men walking down the road. "Better hide the rest of your six-pack in the house before the moochers coming over decide to help themselves."

Nick picked up the beer and walked past Emmett to the house. He chuckled. Community spirit ran fast and deep in the park. If someone needed food for their kid or gas money to get to work, someone gave to help another. But, everyone took their beer and smoke stash seriously. Especially toward payday when money was tight for everyone.

"Hey, Emmett. You got trouble?" Kirkland leaned over and peered inside Emmett's car.

"Nothing I can't fix." Emmett picked up the propane torch and lifted his chin. "Turn it off for me, will you?"

Striking his lighter, he caught the end of the torch on fire and held it against the dry wood stacked in the barrel. Somehow, over the years, his lot in the park became the gathering spot for those looking for company. First, the occupants who were single started hanging around. Then the married couples and the elderly who took pride in their minuscule ten foot by ten-foot yard with their birdhouses and whirly-gigs started seeking him out to help when a pipe broke in the winter, or their air conditioner went on the fritz in the summer.

When nominations came up for a new manager, someone or twenty put his name on the ballot. He shut off the torch. The extra couple of hundred bucks a month allowed him to work on his car and put the rest into his savings account—which usually got ate up when something big went kaput.

A loud wolf whistle split the air followed by Jason pushing past Kirkland to reach Shayla. Emmett turned toward the action.

Shayla bounced down the rickety wooden steps onto the lawn. "Out of my way, boys."

"You're not leaving us alone tonight, are you, Shayla?" Jason stepped in front of her.