Read Online Beneath a Blood Moon by R. J. Blain - Free Book Online Page A

straight-laced as the bouncers at the club got, but he wasn’t above copping a feel on the job. I ground my teeth. “Do I at least get to see the dress first?”
    “Sorry, babe. No peeking.”
    “What the fuck kind of stunt is this?” I demanded.
    “The kind that pays you a small fortune and nabs you a paid vacation. Just take the damned mask and smile, Jasmine.”
    While my wolf had saved my life, she offered no help with my current predicament. “Fine.” I grabbed the blindfold out of Danny’s hand, and seething with rage, I tied it into place. “There. I’m fucking blindfolded.”
    “Good thing it’s not a strapless, or we’d have to hunt you down a different bra. Typical men, buying things suiting their tastes that don’t match the dress. At least the lingerie is gorgeous. You’ll like it,” Danny muttered, helping me dress. “Arms up, girl. You might have to wiggle a bit to get into this one.”
    After having squirmed my way out of my sweat-drenched vinyl, the thought of wearing something tight sickened me. Sighing, I obeyed, lifting my arms over my head. Danny was right about the wiggling. I couldn’t tell if the dress was made of satin or silk or some other sleek fabric, but it clung to me and required a lot of tugging, squirming, shifting, and cursing to make the damned thing fit.
    By the time I was in it and laced up, I had my doubts I’d make it out of the club without falling asleep on my feet.
    “Shoes,” Danny said, tapping my ankle. “They’re heels, shorter than you usually wear, so try not to break a leg.”
    “Thanks, Mom. I’ll try not to snap my ankle.” I clenched my teeth. “Anything else?”
    “Make him use a condom and have fun. There’s a necklace and earrings, too. Apparently your gentleman wants to be seen with a lady and not a hussy.”
    I hoped crying was acceptable behavior for a stripper turned sex slave pretending to be a lady, because I was on the verge of tears. Anger, humiliation, and embarrassment conspired to shatter what remained of my dignity. I’d been stupid to say yes.
    If I had said no, I had no idea what would have happened to me, especially not with fifty thousand reasons for the boss to make certain I did exactly what my buyer wanted.
    “I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” I whispered.
    “Oh, Jasmine. I’m not, but what else are we supposed to do? Hell, we all need the money in this town. How many gigs are you pulling just to pay your rent without prostituting? Three? Four? You’re stuck in the same dead end as the rest of us. We just don’t mind the life quite as much as you do. Here, I got the perfect cure for you. It’s the hard stuff, and if that doesn’t settle your nerves, nothing will.”
    “Define hard stuff.”
    “Vodka.” Danny took my hand, turned my wrist, and gave me a shot glass. “You know the drill, girl. All at once, and don’t choke on it.”
    “Bitch, I know how to drink,” I growled, tossing the shot back. It burned all the way down. “Just put the damned jewelry on so I can get this over with.”
    “Keep your lacy panties on, I’m working on it,” Danny muttered. “Stay still so I don’t jab you with the posts.”
    Once she put the earrings in, she clasped a heavy necklace around my throat. After a few more tugs, she let go of me. “Damn, woman. You clean up pretty.”
    “If I didn’t look good, the boss wouldn’t keep me around,” I retorted. With a one night fling bagging him fifty thousand, I had the feeling he’d try to keep me as one of his prostitutes, hoping for a repeat performance. I shivered.
    Danny settled the strap of a purse on my shoulder. “Your wallet, keys, and tip envelope are inside. Knock ‘em dead, girl.”
    My wolf was quick to reassure me we could—and would—if necessary.

    My head buzzed from the vodka, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything since a late breakfast, which I had thrown up before work. By all rights, I should have collapsed long before I made it down to