Read Online Bait: A dark erotic thriller (Hunter & Prey Book 2) by Kira Barker - Free Book Online
Authors: Kira Barker
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group of people to the next, smiling sweetly here, giving a knowing look there, or even a nod of acknowledgement to the odd woman who looked back at her with familiarity in her gaze. Few words were exchanged, but people seemed to get the message nevertheless. When we’d come up with the plan, I’d been somewhat concerned that I might be conceived as just one of her girls, like meat on a plate, but while I drew the odd interested gaze, it came without the casual sense that I’d become so used to over the years. Oh, they wanted me and might pay a hefty sum for my time, but it was clear that I wasn’t just a common piece of ass anymore.
Then I turned around and saw a familiar full head of hair peeking over the masses, and my heart seized up. Brigitte noticed a moment later, her hand on my arm making me focus on her instead. Fine worry lines had appeared around her eyes and mouth but she gave me the barest of head shakes, a clear note for me to get myself together. Deliberately turning my back on where I actually yearned to run to, I followed her as she continued working the room, tireless in her effort to show me around.
With more people streaming into the building now as it got closer to the beginning of the opera, it was easy to get lost in the masses while I smiled and wished good evenings, handing out a card or two from my stash, all the while feeling the skin of my back burning with what I knew must be his gaze. It cost me so much not to turn around, not to check, not to catch and hold his gaze, not to—
The call to take our seats saved me the hassle of determining just how far my heart was screaming to go while my mind was tugging in the opposite direction. Yet my respite was a brief one; Brigitte had seats on the left side portion of the box level, which gave me a great view of the stage—but also at where Darren and his little plaything sat down in the floor seats.
Just peachy.
Tosca had always been one of my favorites, and it would have been nice to just enjoy the performance without having to spend a moment concentrating on anything else. I’d been to the opera many times with clients, but that had usually included a certain kind of attention required. Now, work clearly happened before and after the show, with quick dashes outside during the breaks, but nothing should have taken away from letting the music grip me—if my mind would just have let me.
I didn’t even pretend that I wasn’t watching what was going on downstairs through my little opera glass. I knew that our seating could only be coincidence, but it left me with a clear line of sight directly at where my attention was flitting to every couple of seconds. And as things on stage ramped up in the third act, so they did in the seats. Until then, Darren had mostly kept to himself with the odd comment whispered, but now his hand was firmly on Daliah’s knee, then started climbing up her thigh and underneath the skirt of her short black dress. With Ray on her other side—sneaking the occasional eyeful—there didn’t seem to be anything prudent making her stop him. And if a whore could recognize something, it was the body language of someone getting off.
It shouldn’t have affected me. It certainly didn’t make me horny, although I normally could appreciate a good performance, including stealthy ones. But as I sat there, watching her shoulders tense, then sag, I just couldn’t control how my right hand in particular clenched, the hard band around my ring finger digging deep into my scarred flesh. And then I just couldn’t take it anymore and had to get up, excusing myself as I pushed through the three rows of chairs behind mine.
Thirty-four quick steps later—I counted—I was outside in the hallway, cooler air rushing in my face after the suddenly stifling heat inside. Taking a few quick breaths, I surged on, heading toward the main entrance. Not that I intended to flee the building, but putting more distance between me and what
Then I turned around and saw a familiar full head of hair peeking over the masses, and my heart seized up. Brigitte noticed a moment later, her hand on my arm making me focus on her instead. Fine worry lines had appeared around her eyes and mouth but she gave me the barest of head shakes, a clear note for me to get myself together. Deliberately turning my back on where I actually yearned to run to, I followed her as she continued working the room, tireless in her effort to show me around.
With more people streaming into the building now as it got closer to the beginning of the opera, it was easy to get lost in the masses while I smiled and wished good evenings, handing out a card or two from my stash, all the while feeling the skin of my back burning with what I knew must be his gaze. It cost me so much not to turn around, not to check, not to catch and hold his gaze, not to—
The call to take our seats saved me the hassle of determining just how far my heart was screaming to go while my mind was tugging in the opposite direction. Yet my respite was a brief one; Brigitte had seats on the left side portion of the box level, which gave me a great view of the stage—but also at where Darren and his little plaything sat down in the floor seats.
Just peachy.
Tosca had always been one of my favorites, and it would have been nice to just enjoy the performance without having to spend a moment concentrating on anything else. I’d been to the opera many times with clients, but that had usually included a certain kind of attention required. Now, work clearly happened before and after the show, with quick dashes outside during the breaks, but nothing should have taken away from letting the music grip me—if my mind would just have let me.
I didn’t even pretend that I wasn’t watching what was going on downstairs through my little opera glass. I knew that our seating could only be coincidence, but it left me with a clear line of sight directly at where my attention was flitting to every couple of seconds. And as things on stage ramped up in the third act, so they did in the seats. Until then, Darren had mostly kept to himself with the odd comment whispered, but now his hand was firmly on Daliah’s knee, then started climbing up her thigh and underneath the skirt of her short black dress. With Ray on her other side—sneaking the occasional eyeful—there didn’t seem to be anything prudent making her stop him. And if a whore could recognize something, it was the body language of someone getting off.
It shouldn’t have affected me. It certainly didn’t make me horny, although I normally could appreciate a good performance, including stealthy ones. But as I sat there, watching her shoulders tense, then sag, I just couldn’t control how my right hand in particular clenched, the hard band around my ring finger digging deep into my scarred flesh. And then I just couldn’t take it anymore and had to get up, excusing myself as I pushed through the three rows of chairs behind mine.
Thirty-four quick steps later—I counted—I was outside in the hallway, cooler air rushing in my face after the suddenly stifling heat inside. Taking a few quick breaths, I surged on, heading toward the main entrance. Not that I intended to flee the building, but putting more distance between me and what
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