Read Online Cold Shoulder by Lynda La Plante - Free Book Online

linen jacket, blue open-necked shirt, cropped blond thinning hair, round, rimless glasses, and a wide, wet mouth. That was all she focused on as he leaned out of the window. He smiled, running his thumb around his shiny wet lips as he asked if she needed a lift any place. Lorraine stepped closer, inclining her head, making sure the jagged scar couldn’t be seen, keeping her lips half closed. She didn’t want to scare him off, didn’t want him to see too much of her teeth — or lack of them. She was an old hand at this and knew that if he was a cop he would try to get her to name a price. She bent lower, down to his level.
    ‘You lost?’ She said it softly, her hand reaching out to the door handle. ‘You need me?’
    He stared at her as if sizing her up, then looked past her both ways before he jerked his head. ‘Get in.’
    Lorraine went round to the passenger side and climbed in beside him. He drove off fast like they always did, acting flash. Acting stupid. He said quickly, licking his wet lips all the time, that he wanted oral, he wanted it public. Did she understand? Lorraine leaned her arm along the back of the seats, but as she touched his neck, he jerked away. He didn’t want to be touched, he said, he hated being touched. He kept on driving, passing every car on the highway until he wheeled into a supermarket car park. The ground level was almost full, people staggering to and from the store with bulging bags of groceries, their hatchbacks open wide as they loaded up.
    He bypassed the first level, then the second, tyres screeching as he drove round and up the narrow entrance lane. In the fourth-storey parking area, he pulled into a space. He had hardly switched off the engine before he unzipped his trousers. Lorraine put her hand out. He swiped it aside. ‘I told you, I don’t want you to touch me!’
    ‘Okay, chill out, man, want me to talk dirty, you like that? That what you want?’
    His body was tense, his hands clenching and unclenching.
    ‘No, I reckon you want to be sucked off, right here, like with maybe someone close enough to catch you at it, that’s exciting, isn’t it, bad boy? You’re a very bad boy, aren’t you? Well, you got lucky because that’s my speciality. I give the best head. Come on, you want to ask me for it, yes? That’s what you want, isn’t it?’ His lips twitched, his eyes darting round the gloomy parking lot. She kept her voice low, whispering, making sucking sounds, and he closed his eyes. ‘Like I said, I’ll make you feel good, real good, and this is a real public place, but we got to sort out my dough. Can we sort that out? Yeah?’
    He looked out of the window, getting more excited as a few customers stashed away their groceries, their voices echoing in the concrete building. He loosened his belt, as if he hadn’t heard her, pulling at his pants. ‘Just do it, bitch.’
    Lorraine’s back pressed against the passenger door and her left hand felt for the door handle. If he played games, she was out. ‘Twenty dollars.’
    A woman with her husband and two kids parked directly next to them. As they headed towards the elevators, Lorraine’s john started to jerk himself off, his mouth stretched in a weird wet smile of pleasure. His erect pink penis burst up from his crumpled flies and he began to pant, leaning his head back, as his left hand flicked the switch for his seat to recline.
    Lorraine tried again. ‘Twenty dollars.’
    He lost his erection and gave a half sob. She swore, realizing he was one of those half-a-minute stand-up-for-America and then the weeping impotent syndrome.
    Fumbling in his wallet, he took out a thick wedge of bills, peeled off a twenty and tossed it at her. ‘See what you can do for it, bitch!’ He reached over and grabbed her by the hair, forcing her face onto his pink flaccid worm. Lorraine could smell him, smell his trousers, even the cotton of his blue striped boxer shorts. His hand on the back of her neck was holding a strand of