Accidentally Hooked (The Naked Truth Series Book 1) (2 page)

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This is just investigating
. Ryan’s pulse raced as he stared into her coffee-colored eyes and yearned for an answer. Kika parted her scarlet-stained lips, a trace of surprise crossing her face, and clamped them shut. Did she think he didn’t know she was a hooker? Did she recognize him from the hotel?

A day ago, he’d arrived in Vegas and stayed at his sister’s fiancé’s hotel, The Spot. To family and friends he’d said he’d wanted to come to the US early for some much deserved R&R. Truth was, he wanted to discover if the rumor he heard from a friend was true… If The Spot was a part of a highly-organized prostitution ring, with his future brother-in-law Blake Spot linked to it. Maybe even the mastermind. He couldn’t stand Blake, who was ten years older than Charlotte. Especially after all his sister had done for Ryan while in rehab. He couldn’t, wouldn’t let her marry the man if Blake was in fact involved.
I have five days to discover.

The woman in front of him could be the key to the truth. He’d noticed her a couple of times, working as a waitress in the casino of the hotel. He’d been unable to take his eyes off of her as she zipped between tables in screw-me shoes, a shimmering short dress that showed off unbelievably long legs, and his mouth had watered at the ass under the skirt. She’d sauntered back to the kitchen or bar area and vanished for hours at a time. Something was off. Tonight, he’d seen her off duty, crossing the Strip. He followed her into the sketchy bar, all the while wondering why someone who served drinks all day would chose to be in this hell hole?

He’d caught her salivating when a hooker closed a deal with a client. Maybe Kika needed more clients. Maybe the woman had a huge debt. Didn’t matter. Ryan had to get to the bottom of this.

Apprehension punched him in the gut, and his stomach tightened. Could he do it? Pay a woman for sex?

She chewed on her lower plump lip, and his libido stirred. Hard. Ever since his stint at rehab three years ago, his counselor advised him to focus on his recovery and avoid romantic relationships. Not like he had been eager for one, anyway. After screwing things badly with Lynn, straightening up was a must.

Still… Damn twelve steps.

He basked in her beauty. A grey fedora hid her hair. A white tank top clung to her curvy frame. Black hip-hugging slacks cupped her delicious ass. The woman had slightly slanted cat eyes, enhanced by eyeliner and bright silver eye shadow. Her nose was a tad long, giving her profile more character.

Shit
. A hot wave of blood rushed to the part of his body he least trusted. Up close, the task was a lot harder than he’d imagined. He knew he had to keep going. If he told Charlotte about his suspicions, she’d tell Blake and the sleaze ball would find a way to explain—the same way Blake did when he cheated on Charlotte in the beginning of the relationship. And his sister, the fool, forgave him.

She turned her face to him, and a glint of interest sparked in the depths of her big black irises, surrounded by shimmers of silver.

“This is the first time I’ve done this. Do we discuss payment now?” He gave a quick glance around them, and lowered his voice just in case. Doubtful the kind of crowd around them would care, but still. He cracked his knuckles and willed the tension away.

“Not to worry, I’m new at this too.”

Sure you are
. He took a sip of his club soda. “How new?”

A few strands of rich, textured chestnut-colored hair strayed from her fedora. She tucked them behind her ear and fixed the hat. “This is only my third week. So yeah, I guess you can still call me an apprentice in sex worker hardship. No pun intended.”

Third week? He frowned. “How do I know you don’t say that to every guy?”

She tilted her head, and the orchid-y notes of her perfume wafted through. Her scent inebriated him, and he almost lost his train of thought. He curled and uncurled his fists, unwilling to give in and remove that silly hipster hat and thrust his fingers into her hair. “How do I know you don’t say you’re inexperienced to every hooker?”

“Trust me, I’m not inexperienced with women. Not by far.” He scooted closer, and didn’t resist sliding one of his legs between hers. “I only meant I never had to pay for one.”

The air shifted around them, and he doubted he could blame the smoke-filled bikers screaming at the bar attender. There was something thick and ecstatic swirling between them. He cleared his throat. Suddenly, his jeans were so freaking tight.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m surprised how insightful you are to have noticed me.”

“I reckon I’m very intuitive for a bloke,” he whispered.

“Not to mention cocky.”

Screw it.
Giving in to a growing yearn to touch her, he ran his fingers along her arm, and starting stroking her with a tenderness that surprised even himself. She sucked in her breath, and he wrestled the desire zapping through his veins. Using his index finger, he drew an invisible pattern on her flesh, and noticed a trail of goose bumps on her satiny skin.

“Three hundred an hour.” She made a motion to withdraw her arm but he gripped her elbow with his fingers. “And you have to play by my rules,” she said, glancing down at his hand.

“Of course.” He loosened the hold, slowly, until he no longer caressed her.

She shifted in the stool. “No foul play, no doing anything I don’t agree with, no crazy shit.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart, without a blink. “Agreed.”

She toyed with the edges of the purse perched on her lap. “No backdoor smashing.”

We’ll see about that
. Every functioning organ in his body halted, every one but his heart pounding in his ears. And his cock, throbbing in anticipation. The image of the sensual woman in front of him, bending over a couch while he took her from behind intoxicated his brain. “Now that’s a shame.” He managed to string the words together.

She crossed her arms. “That’s non-negotiable.”

“All right with me.”

A small sigh flew past her Angelina Jolie lips. “Good. And, of course, condoms.”

No problem there. “I’ll wear condoms.”

“Great. Do you have any questions?”

He grinned, entranced by her cherry-red lips. Damn it. That woman and sex went together like a hammer and a nail. “What’s your policy on open mouth kissing?”

She drew back, perhaps surprised at his question. “I-I guess that’s fine. But if you don’t want—”

“Oh no, sweet face. I have plans for this mouth.” He lifted his index finger and outlined her lips, starting from the bottom and working its way to the top lip. Her sultry mouth trembled a bit. Suppressing a groan burning in his lungs, he tipped her chin up. “My hotel it is then?”

Chapter Two

Bloody hell.
Doubts drilled him from the moment they’d sauntered out of the bar and made their way onto the Strip. The desert heat, still brutal at nine o’clock at night, smacked him in the face. So she
was
hooking. He still had no proof she did it during business hours. If he brought her moonlighting to the human resource manager’s attention, or even if he brought it to Charlotte’s, what would happen? Maybe they’d fire her or turn her in. Or did her after-hours activities even matter?

He’d lose his opportunity to show his sister what kind of man her husband-to-be was.

As Kika swayed her curvy hips in front of him, his libido stirred.
Try telling yourself this is mere investigation. That you aren’t attracted.
He’d done some pretty stupid things in his life, but paying for sex had never been one of them.

Until now.

Bright lights announced the latest shows, the billboards only momentarily stealing his attention from his conundrum. If he went along with it, wouldn’t that make him as bad? As wrong?

The crowd, walking in both directions, jam-packed the streets. A man handing out flyers with deals for strip clubs almost bumped into her. Ryan snatched her to him, quick to prevent a body collision with the guy, and brought them next to the slab of cement of the bridge. The collision with her, though…spread electric currents through him.

“Thanks.” She tipped her fedora and tucked a straying curl behind her ear, her face flushed. “W-Where are you staying?”

“The Spot.”

“The Spot,” she repeated in low voice. She reared back, and widened her eyes. Was she scared he’d take her to her place of work?

“What’s the matter?” He lifted her chin, the tip of his finger tingling with anticipation. “Tell me.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m calling this off.”

Hell no, you are not.
“Off?” He stood up straighter, his heart racing. “I have a special key to my suite. No one will see you. We can stroll down the parking garage and take the elevator straight to my floor.” He used his most soothing voice.

Why did she change her mind? Was there someone who wasn’t supposed to see her in the hotel when during non-work hours? Maybe the tip that his friend Katie had given him was right on the money. Maybe there was a super organized prostitution ring…and he wasn’t going to relax until he found out.

She sighed.

“Are you familiar with the hotel?” He scratched his chin. Best not to tell her yet he’d seen her working in the casino. She might suspect him if he had…and last thing he wanted was to scare her away. “Is there a problem?”

She stepped back and crossed her arms. “Why would a hunk like you pay someone for sex? Seriously, look at you. I bet your shoulder muscles bunch into a W when you lift weights. And your abs have that narrowing V women go crazy for. I can just tell.”

Was that an accusation or a compliment? Laughter floated up his throat. “What am I, an alphabet soup?”

She shook her head. “I just noticed you are better looking out here.”

“What was wrong with inside the bar? The dim lights didn’t favor me?”

“Yes, you were really fugly back there.” She pointed toward the bar and shrugged. “My point is, why aren’t you taking a girlfriend out on the town? Why didn’t you bring someone with you in this trip?”

Was she a prostitute or a relationship counselor? He rubbed the back of his neck, but no massage would bring him the ticket out of that conversation. Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he let a long sigh out. A different awareness dawned on him. She studied his every move. Damn it.

Besides his counselor and the AA meeting group, his sister had been the only person he’d opened up to about this. Well, it’s not like this was a typical date. Also, he had to tell her something true about himself, besides his profession and nationality. It was only fair. “I’m an alcoholic. I dated someone special for a while, but my disease took care of ruining that relationship. That was three and a half years ago.”

Kika unfolded her arms, the contours of her face softening. “I understand.” She chewed on her lower lip, and he could tell by the twitch in her eyes, he got to her at some level. Either that or she was a great actress.

She closed the gap between them. An invisible bubble of awareness encircled them, and silence lengthened. He parted his mouth, but couldn’t string any words past the lump in his throat.
Keep your head in the game, man.

Asking her very personal questions would make him get to know her. Maybe, even like her. Was he ready for that? For bringing down the operation which she was possibility a part of? For using her to save his sister from the claws of that bastard Blake Spot? A cold shiver ran down his spine.

Time to move forward.

No.

More.

Hesitations.

“I understand…this.” He dipped his head and covered her lips with his. All his muscles clenched with longing, and blood surged hot and thick in his veins. He held the back of her neck, his fingers kneading the soft skin to bring her to submission. To make her surrender to a kiss that had already disarmed him.

She opened her mouth and he delved his tongue inside. A rapacious, senseless longing for more seeded and grew. Pulling her against his hips, he groaned. His cock was as hard as granite. How could he not be? The tight tips of her full breasts rubbed his pectorals.

With a low moan, she nipped his lower lip, and when his bloodstream expanded to the point he thought he’d die, his heart slamming against his ribcage, she released it with a pop.

“Get a room, guys.” A teenager snickered behind them as he walked by.

“That’s good advice,” he whispered into her hair.

Trembling, she disentangled herself from his hold. It took her a couple seconds until she faced him straight in the eye. “Show me your I.D.”

ID? He watched her in silence, then frowned and pulled his Australian passport from his back pocket. Raising it to her eye level, she skimmed over his name while she jammed her other hand in her purse and grabbed a cell phone.

“What are you doing?”

She typed on the screen. “Sending my friend Elena a message with your passport number. If you breach any of the conditions we talked about, or if I don’t call her in the morning, she will know what to do.”

Was that a policy from the organization to ensure safety? He scratched his chin. “Interesting. You do that with every client? That would be a breach of privacy.” Maybe if she did, there was a way he could get access to a client database.