Read Online Sin City Uniform 02 - Copping an Attitude by Morticia Knight - Free Book Online
Authors: Morticia Knight
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everything seem more unbearable. When Slade had thought that he was trapped with no way out, he’d built up an inner shield. Any time he’d wished that his life was better, he’d pushed those feelings away, knowing that dwelling on what he couldn’t have would be pointless. But with liberty right around the corner, his defenses were dropping. Selling himself as a sex toy was no longer something he could pretend was no big deal.
It was after three in the morning. Valeena still had one more date before she could call it a night. He wondered if she was going through the same thing—where every stranger’s body she pleased filled her with agony. As if every man who violated her took away more of her soul than usual. He shuddered. He also needed a shower—a really long, thorough shower.
After he’d entered the house, he saw that Rita was in the dining room where she typically held court. It wasn’t that odd that she had stayed so late, but still not the norm. She seemed preoccupied, so he didn’t say anything to her. He went to the kitchen to get a soda.
Who am I kidding?
What he really wanted was a tall glass of Jack Daniel’s with a splash of Coke. He needed to at least give the appearance of not drinking it straight. Julio wanted his workers relaxed and fun, but not so wasted that they couldn’t perform. He also frowned on drugs. Despite the fact that Julio was a total tweaker, drug addicts were bad for his business. He wanted top dollar for his whores—bad skin and teeth or track marks just wouldn’t do.
He took a healthy swallow of his drink, the slight burn and warmth as it went down soothing his nerves somewhat. It would take a lot more to numb them. He idly wondered what it would be like to have someone touch him because Slade desired it. He ached to feel that again. The last time he’d experienced such a thing was when he’d been with Chad, his boyfriend. They’d played around, but hadn’t reached the point of intercourse.
Slade had fantasized about fucking Chad. He’d tried a couple of times, but Chad had resisted, too scared of the pain. They’d both fingered each other, but other than one encounter when he’d snuck some vegetable oil from the kitchen, there hadn’t been any slick, so it had burned. Spit hadn’t been enough on their untried assholes. The rest of their fumblings had been quick and unplanned. Both he and Chad had gone to the same church and been raised by stay-at-home moms. That, of course, was the reason they’d been caught—there hadn’t been much opportunity to be alone.
After Slade had been tossed out, he’d tried to find Chad, thinking that they could take off together, maybe build a life for themselves somehow. But his boyfriend had already been shipped off by his rich parents to some fancy reprogramming center for homosexuals. It was the first time Slade had ever been grateful for his parent’s low-income status.
Then there was that cop. He downed another good swallow of his drink.
Parker.
He had no idea why, but he liked his name. Truth be told, he liked the man too. It was more than stupid to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Parker had been so nice to him, the cop’s genuine concern making him ache to have someone like that in his life.
He called me honey.
It had thrilled him. He wasn’t even sure that Parker had realized he’d said it—it had seemed to just fly out of his mouth without any forethought. Slade clung to it as if it was the one word that validated him as worthy of some love.
“Hey, Boy Toy.”
He fucking hated it when she called him that. Rita, a fiftyish, large Hispanic woman, was Julio’s cousin. She had sauntered into the kitchen, cigarette in hand, then had leaned against the counter.
“You’re not getting plastered, are you? Julio don’t like that.”
“No.”
He didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t owed any explanations.
“You got a new date for Friday night, an all-nighter.”
His heart pounded, his stomach
It was after three in the morning. Valeena still had one more date before she could call it a night. He wondered if she was going through the same thing—where every stranger’s body she pleased filled her with agony. As if every man who violated her took away more of her soul than usual. He shuddered. He also needed a shower—a really long, thorough shower.
After he’d entered the house, he saw that Rita was in the dining room where she typically held court. It wasn’t that odd that she had stayed so late, but still not the norm. She seemed preoccupied, so he didn’t say anything to her. He went to the kitchen to get a soda.
Who am I kidding?
What he really wanted was a tall glass of Jack Daniel’s with a splash of Coke. He needed to at least give the appearance of not drinking it straight. Julio wanted his workers relaxed and fun, but not so wasted that they couldn’t perform. He also frowned on drugs. Despite the fact that Julio was a total tweaker, drug addicts were bad for his business. He wanted top dollar for his whores—bad skin and teeth or track marks just wouldn’t do.
He took a healthy swallow of his drink, the slight burn and warmth as it went down soothing his nerves somewhat. It would take a lot more to numb them. He idly wondered what it would be like to have someone touch him because Slade desired it. He ached to feel that again. The last time he’d experienced such a thing was when he’d been with Chad, his boyfriend. They’d played around, but hadn’t reached the point of intercourse.
Slade had fantasized about fucking Chad. He’d tried a couple of times, but Chad had resisted, too scared of the pain. They’d both fingered each other, but other than one encounter when he’d snuck some vegetable oil from the kitchen, there hadn’t been any slick, so it had burned. Spit hadn’t been enough on their untried assholes. The rest of their fumblings had been quick and unplanned. Both he and Chad had gone to the same church and been raised by stay-at-home moms. That, of course, was the reason they’d been caught—there hadn’t been much opportunity to be alone.
After Slade had been tossed out, he’d tried to find Chad, thinking that they could take off together, maybe build a life for themselves somehow. But his boyfriend had already been shipped off by his rich parents to some fancy reprogramming center for homosexuals. It was the first time Slade had ever been grateful for his parent’s low-income status.
Then there was that cop. He downed another good swallow of his drink.
Parker.
He had no idea why, but he liked his name. Truth be told, he liked the man too. It was more than stupid to feel that way, but he couldn’t help it. Parker had been so nice to him, the cop’s genuine concern making him ache to have someone like that in his life.
He called me honey.
It had thrilled him. He wasn’t even sure that Parker had realized he’d said it—it had seemed to just fly out of his mouth without any forethought. Slade clung to it as if it was the one word that validated him as worthy of some love.
“Hey, Boy Toy.”
He fucking hated it when she called him that. Rita, a fiftyish, large Hispanic woman, was Julio’s cousin. She had sauntered into the kitchen, cigarette in hand, then had leaned against the counter.
“You’re not getting plastered, are you? Julio don’t like that.”
“No.”
He didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t owed any explanations.
“You got a new date for Friday night, an all-nighter.”
His heart pounded, his stomach
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