Rated: A very light R, for some sexual content and cursing. No violence but *WARNING UP* for a very graphic description of the aftermath of violence/implied sexual violence (but not of the violence itself).
Any resemblance between much beloved characters with copyrights and those of my own are intentional, but friendly. This has no beta so all mistakes are mine.
Description/Teaser: A woman questioning her sexuality hires a woman to help answer these questions-with unexpected results for both of them.
As it slowed and pulled onto the street corner in a certain seedier part of the city, the Jaguar was as out of place as the woman driving it felt. She looked over the three women who were clearly available and prayed that it would be the petite blonde girl, the least intimidating, who approached the car.
From their vantage point, in the waning light of dusk, the three women could only see that there was a brunette woman in the car, but little else. The tallest of the women nudged the little blonde, "Hey-it's a chick-looks like it's your lucky night."
The blonde rolled her eyes, smiled as she scratched her eyebrow with a 'fuck you' middle finger, then strolled toward the Jag. She was wearing only the suggestion of a mini-skirt and her cleavage was emphasized with a tight, scoop-neck blouse with a fully visible push-up bra.
As the passenger-side window descended, the blonde looked in and had to gulp to keep from gasping. The driver was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.
No way. This couldn't be a trick.
She put both hands on the car door, leaned in, and asked quite gently, "Do you need help? Are you lost, ma chere
The blonde woman had learned to assess nearly everything about potential clients by the look in their eyes and she was rarely wrong. The blue eyes looking into hers burned with shame, loneliness and uncertainty, but no desire.
The driver spoke, "I'm not lost. I don't know exactly how to.?I'm?how much for the night?"
The blonde tilted her head, "The night? Are we talking about what I think we are?"
The driver nodded her head.
"Let's just get a few parameters out of the way before I answer. The whole night. Where? And with whom?"
The driver had a ghost of a smile. "With whom?"
The blonde shrugged, "All the girls have tits. It's the good grammar that gets repeat customers." She paused, then added, "And, yeah, I'm aware that that was a bit of alliteration-I'm a hooker, not a moron."
The driver stared at her for another few seconds, "Are you really old enough to do this? You look like a girl."
The blonde used her arms to squeeze her cleavage forward, "I'm 27 years old. Now, seriously lady, where are we going and how many guys?"
The driver winced and seemed almost to fold into herself. She looked down at her lap and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't even ask. Of course you're not interested in sleeping with a-of course you'd expect-"
The younger woman backpedaled mentally for only one second, interrupting her quickly. "Honey, I have no problem with your being a woman. I'll have sex with anyone who has the money and the capacity for consent. Yes to men or women. No to kids or goats."
After a pause, the driver offered, "Baby goats are called kids."
The blonde gently tapped her forehead with her fingers. "So they are. That goes double for them, then. C'mon, I just need to know what sort of scene I'm getting into. Usually, when women come around they're looking for a three-way or more."
She looked into the uncertain blue eyes across from hers, "Maybe you don't understand?because it's a trade secret but?" she leaned into the car, her cleavage making the driver's pulse jump; she whispered, "women never, ever, ever
have to pay for sex. Especially gorgeous women like you. So what is it, sugar? Who are we playing with?"
"Just me. At my house. Alone. I mean, of course we'll be together. Together-but alone."
The blonde threw back her head and laughed. "Together, but alone. That's the best description of sex I've ever heard." She genuinely smiled, for the first time she could remember, at a potential trick. "Last bit of business. Even though you're a woman, we're having safer sex."
"I wouldn't expect anything else."
The blonde named her price.
The driver looked at her as if she'd been hit by lightning. "But you're worth so much more than that."
The young woman laughed again, entirely delighted. "Jesus H. Christ, lady! Never say that! Haven't you heard of bargaining?"
"I'll pay you triple."
The blonde slapped her hands on the door. "Let me in this car, woman. You have a deal."
As they drove through darkening streets, the younger woman asked, "So-what should I call you? Honey, sweetheart-all that gets a bit redundant."
"Vickie. My name is Victoria. What's yours?"
The driver glanced at the girl, who raised both hands. "It's not my street name. Honest to God, my name is Lucky."
The driver offered her hand, "Nice to meet you, Lucky."
Her passenger shook it, then snorted, "Not every day you meet a whore named Lucky, is it? 'A whore named Lucky.' Sounds like a country song, doesn't it?"
The car was quiet for a few seconds before the driver answered, "No. Country songs are sad-not cruel."
The girl flinched, then chuckled, "Depends upon who's singing."
The driver heard the tone, tried to lighten the mood, "Hey! I like some country songs."
"Hey, me too. Like I said, depends upon who's singing."
As they were driving, Lucky asked, "May I touch you?" She was looking at Vickie as she spoke and watched the woman hesitate.
"I don't have to-if you're not ready yet."
"No. You can touch me." The reply was a whisper.
Lucky reached for the woman's face and only placed a stray lock of black hair behind her ear. "I just wanted to have a better look. You are, without question, the most beautiful human being I've ever seen in the flesh."
Vickie glanced at her and frowned, "It's not necessary to-you don't have to say things like that."
Lucky shrugged and smiled, "That was an entirely personal observation, Vickie-not a professional courtesy."
As they drove on in utter silence, Vickie felt her heart hammering in her ears.
When they arrived at Vickie's home, Lucky whistled. "Holy shit! You're loaded."
As they exited the car, Lucky's mouth fell open, "You're loaded and you're crazy tall."
They entered the home and, as Lucky looked around, she frowned. "Aw?fuck." She turned and asked the brunette, "Vickie, look-you're new at this, right?"
"Very. Could I have a drink?"
Vickie immediately went into hostess mode, "Oh-I'm so sorry. Of course-what can I-it's still early-would you like some dinner?"
"No, my darling. Just a drink. Coke-water-beer-whatever you're having."
"Exactly. I'll follow you and give you the rundown." As they crossed through the home, the blonde intoned, "Never-ever
-take a hooker to your home."
Vickie kept walking but looked back at her companion for a moment, as Lucky added. "I'm cool. I'm not a drug addict, I don't steal and more importantly, I don't have a boyfriend or a pimp who would jack you for all this amazing shit I'm seeing."
"But you lucked out with me, Vickie. A hooker is, by definition in this country-a lawbreaker. Lawbreakers come in many flavors-most more dangerous than others. If you ever do this again, call a discrete escort agency and pay through the nose, Meet your escort at a hotel and pay everything with cash. That's the ticket for you."
As they entered the kitchen, the blonde sighed. "My entire apartment would fit into this kitchen."
Vickie opened the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle, "I don't know what to say to that. I mean, what can I say? Thanks? Sorry?"
Before she actually handed the bottle and opener to the blonde, she automatically offered it for the other woman's approval, label up.
Lucky grinned at the gesture. Who gave hookers the opportunity to approve a vintage?
"Un tres bon choix
, Vickie. I love this one."
Vickie stared. "You speak French, Lucky?"
The blonde disregarded the question and opened the bottled, "To answer your penultimate question, thanks aren't necessary and, for God's sake, don't say you're sorry. It was a statement of fact, not envy."
Vickie placed two glasses on the counter and, as the wine was poured, asked, "You're obviously an educated woman-why are you-"
"Hooking?" The girl finished Vickie's question, gave her a glass and tapped it gently with her own, "A votre
"It's a long story." She took one sip, nodded her appreciation of the wine, "Actually, maybe a long short story. Not a novella. But it's not interesting-not even to me."
"I didn't mean to pry."
"You didn't. You asked. I answered." Lucky stepped closer to the taller woman, "Now, my darling, I'm sure you can have conversation without paying for it. What can I do for you tonight?"
Vickie opened her mouth to answer, looked down into the woman's cleavage, closed her mouth, and swallowed hard.
"Do you find my breasts distracting, Vickie?"
"Very." The woman looked away immediately, "Would you wear something else if I got it for you?"
"Vickie! I wouldn't have pegged you for a costume girl."
Vickie blushed furiously, but she saw the other woman's eyes were teasing.
"I have one kink of my own, Vickie. You can see my breasts and touch them-but I'm not taking my top off for you. If your clothing doesn't break that rule, I'll wear whatever you give me. I'll warn you, though-I have sort of a fucked-up funny bone so if the costume hits me the wrong way, I can't promise I won't laugh through the sex."
She put her wine glass on the counter and stepped forward, put her hands on the lapels of Vickie's Armani business suit jacket and traced them down to just above the taller woman's breasts, "I like this suit on you-but I'd like it better off of you." Lucky could see the woman's pulse in her neck, felt her heart racing under her hand.
Vickie looked away from the hypnotizing green eyes. "I told you, you don't have to say things like that."
Lucky gently touched the woman's chin, "Look at me, Vickie." Blue eyes looked uncertainly into amused but sincere green eyes.
"Woman-to-woman? You're devastatingly attractive to me. I'd fuck you for free." She tapped the chin. "In fact, I'd fuck you all night long for free. See? What'd I tell you about bargaining?" She tapped the woman again, but gently, on the cheek. "But we made a deal so you're paying triple. No take-backs."
Vickie's smile was so dazzling that Lucky felt like she'd been punched. "No take-backs, but be right back." At the doorway, she added, flipping her black hair over her shoulder, "I'm going to get that Daisy Duck costume now."
Lucky called after her, "No way, man! Costume heads are extra!"
Lucky looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. Now, she really, really did look too young for this. Vickie had pointed down the hall and given her directions to the library. She'd handed her a t-shirt, sweatshirt and sweatpants, all of which, once she'd changed into them, Lucky was swimming in. She looked small, innocent and felt a bit ridiculous.
As she rolled up the sleeves and legs of Vickie's sweats, she thought that this was a first. A trick who didn't want to see her body and wanted to fuck in a library. She immediately felt a very uncharacteristic twinge of guilt. A trick, yes, but the lady also seemed nice, sweetly shy. Not to mention very hot. This feeling was also uncharacteristic, which made her deeply uncomfortable. Lucky hadn't personally found anyone sexually desirable in years.
When she entered the library, she noticed: books filling every foot of dark built-in bookcases, floor to ceiling, on three walls; the furnishings were dark leather. She felt her soul open in appreciation. Too many books to count and a peaceful place in which to read them. It was a dream for her.
She saw that Vickie was also wearing sweats; there was a roaring fire in an enormous fireplace in the fourth wall and the room was incredibly cold.
"Jesus, Vickie," Lucky said as she closed the door, "You could hang meat in here."
Vickie was sitting on the floor, tending the fire and patted the floor next to her, "Come sit here on the floor with me."
Lucky sat next to her, leaned into her, bumping her shoulder, "Seriously, why the fuck is it so cold in here? Books don't spoil, you know. They have a long shelf life." Lucky snorted and bumped her again, "Shelf life! Get it?"
Vickie turned, looked the woman over, "Pretty and a sense of humor. My lucky night. Lucky? Night? Get it?
"I'm not even going to dignify that one, Victoria."
Vickie grinned at the fire. "It's cold because this room has separate air so I can make it this way. I like a fire in the fireplace all year long. I like to bundle up and read every night. It makes me feel happy and cozy."
"Cozy, huh?" The blonde thought about it. It did, actually, feel pretty damned nice sitting in front of a fire in comfortable clothes. It felt nice not to be so exposed-it felt safe. But that wasn't what she was here for. She looked down at her apparel. "Yeah, cozy may be the word--'cause sexy certainly isn't."
When Vickie looked at her, the blonde saw the first hint of desire breaking through the uncertainty in blue eyes as the woman extended a hand and ran it gently through Lucky's hair. "You look so beautiful-your hair, the fire reflecting in your eyes, wearing my clothes-you take my breath away."
Lucky tilted her head, her eyes gentle, "You're very sweet." She looked at the woman for a long few moments and realized something, "You've never slept with a woman, have you, Vickie?"
Lucky took Vickie's hand in hers and gently laced their fingers, "Are you really sure you want to?"
"No-I mean, yes. I think I do want to?" Vickie stopped, didn't seem to know what else to say.
As Lucky watched the dismay on the other woman's face, her own, unbidden, feelings made her furrow her brow. Protectiveness. Tenderness.
"Is it-are you questioning your sexual orientation, sweetheart? Because I gotta tell you, sex with a female hooker may not answer your questions." She grinned to take the sting out of the words, "And anyway, maybe you're not ready because, let's face it, you do have me pretty bundled up here."
Vickie shook her head. "I wasn't trying to cover you up. I was just trying to make it all feel more?I don't know, more real, I guess. Like we?"
Lucky helped her, "I think I understand. Like maybe we're friends-or out on a real date or just hanging out-and maybe we'd just happen to hook up?"
The brunette nodded.
Lucky kissed the back of Vickie's hand. "I really do understand, sweetie. Sex with a stranger for money is about as unreal-or surreal, as things get. But, believe me, even sex with someone you know, even someone you love, can be pretty unreal, too."
Vickie turned and smirked at the fire, "I know that. I have a boyfriend."
The blonde threw back her head and laughed, "The plot thickens! Alright, girlfriend, now we're talking! Get that bottle of wine and a damned blanket. We can share them-and we're going to sit on this floor in front of the fire, lean back up against this couch and have a nice talk."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting side by side, backs against the couch, which they'd pulled closer to the fire. A cotton throw was tented over their knees.
"So, Vic, the way this is going to go is this-if we're going to make this seem more real, we'll need a back-story for the evening. Okay-roughly, what do you do for a living?"
"I'm a lawyer, roughly"
"Okay, and I'm a business woman. Let's say we went to college together, majoring in business. I bet you actually did major in business, didn't you?"
The brunette nodded.
"I could tell. You should get money back for your crappy negotiation skills, by the way."
Blue eyes narrowed, "I'm tougher than you could possibly imagine in professional life."
Lucky sipped her wine, "That doesn't surprise me a bit. It's always the hard-asses who are sexually submissive."
"Hey! Who said I was-" Vickie's sentence was stopped by two gentle fingers pressed against her lips.
"Close that gorgeous mouth. I'm just teasing. Let's say I majored in business, too. Let's also say that I learned, really early on in life, that the name Lucky didn't win friends and influence people. Sooo, in college you knew me as Elle. Even though you went on to law school and I went on to graduate school in international business, we've stayed in touch. I'm the only out lesbian you actually know, so you really wanted to catch up with me since I'm visiting from Geneve-
Vickie caught the French, interrupted. "Geneve?"
"Yeah. I mean, Geneva. I'm back in the States for a few weeks. We've just had dinner, caught up on all the usual crap and I'm staying the night. You open a bottle of wine, start a fire and finally decide to talk to me about what's really on your mind. Got that? Go!"
Vickie took a deep breath and then a sip of wine, "Elle, I don't think you met Chris the last time you were home, did you?"
"No-he's the guy you mentioned in email, right? Haven't you guys been dating a while? I'm sorry, you'll have to fill me in again. You know what a flake I am. Every day I have a couple hundred emails I want to forget and I then don't remember the ones I really care about."
Vickie thought to herself, wow-Lucky-Elle's really good at this. She shrugged. "No worries-it goes both ways, I guess. Anyway, I think Dad wants to make him a partner in the next couple of months-you know how cagey my father is. Catch is-there's only one spot available in the foreseeable future and he's keeping me and Chris waiting to see who gets it."
The blonde woman heard the bitterness, glanced at the other woman's profile and guessed, "But you have more seniority-you should be a partner before Chris."
Vickie's eyebrows shot upwards and she stared at the younger woman, who only reiterated, "I mean, isn't that true? Don't you have more seniority?"
"Well, yeah. Dad's thought process, if you can call it that, behind promoting Chris is that, as partner, he'll be able to ask me to marry him."
Elle snorted into her glass. "That's the most fucked-up thinking I've ever heard. Does your father think Chris doesn't have the cajones
to ask you if you're a partner and he's not? Or is Chris the one without the balls?"
Lucky patted Vickie on her knee, "You didn't even have to ask me what I'd think about that. I think the same thing you do-it's bullshit. But there's something else bothering you, isn't there?"
"Yeah, there is-but it's a little embarrassing."
"Lucky left her hand on Vickie's knee. "Vic. It's me. You can tell me anything."
"Ah, then, you know
I'm your go-to girl."
Vickie frowned and Lucky laughed, "What? If I remember correctly, and you know I do, you're the one who had to act like a cloistered nun to get good grades. I could sleep around and
get good grades. I never had to study."
"Don't rub it in, blondie."
Lucky leaned closer. "Speaking of rubbing-I believe I offered to rub some of that collegiate tension out a number of times. You were just too much of prude to take me up on it."
"I know-but that's sort of the problem."
"I think maybe you knew something even back then. I think?maybe I'm gay."
Vickie looked at the blonde woman and was astonished to see almost another person-a person who might have been her friend in school, answering, "Don't ever worry about telling me things like that. Haven't you always been my best friend?"
Vickie's eyes welled, "Well yeah, Elle. That's what's hurting. I don't know how to-"
"Honey, just say it."
Vickie sighed, answered, "You know I always was attracted to you?
The blonde laughed, "That much was obvious. I tried to tell you."
Lucky smiled at her. "I don't know. Sexual response is what it is. If you take off your sweatshirt, it's cold as hell in this room and my warm hand on your breast is going to feel great. Your nipple is going to stiffen and it will feel fantastic if I wrap my mouth around it. It's just biology. Won't mean a thing. On the other hand," the blonde's eyes twinkled, "I think it might help to see if you like touching me-to see if you like touching another woman."
"So you're saying you get all the fun. Sounds suspicious to me."
"Nothing suspicious about it-scientific method. But first you have to kiss me."
The kiss was tender at first, then deepened. It was slow and searching and deeply sensual. When it ended, Lucky said, "My God, Vic. If you're not a lesbian, it's going to be a crying shame."
She immediately took the blanket from their knees, and spread it in front of the fireplace, along with some throw pillows from the couch. She faced Vickie, quickly removed all of her clothes, and lay down on the blanket, taking a few seconds to plump up a couple of pillows for her head. When she looked back at Vickie, she barked out a laugh. "Your eyes! They're the size of dinner plates!"
Vickie realized her mouth was suddenly extraordinarily dry. She poured another glass of wine and slammed it down and didn't move.
"Vickie? Is this too much for you? What are you thinking, sweetheart?"
"You said you never take off your top."
"I never, ever do. But I'll do it for you. Because you're my friend."
"Just that easy?"
The blonde woman looked into her eyes with a piercing sadness, "No?actually, it's the hardest thing I've ever done."
Vickie looked at the beautiful body in front of her and thought for a few decisive moments.
"I think I'm a lesbian."
"Wow. That was quick."
"One look at a naked woman? That's all it took? You've seen naked women before."
"I've never seen a naked woman I might be touching."
The blonde smiled at her, "There's no might about it. You're touching me. Either that-or I'm touching myself. I've been fantasizing about this forever."
Vickie didn't trust herself to stand, so she crawled toward Lucky. "You have?"
"Of course I have. Since college, I've never met a person who even comes close."
Vickie stretched herself out at the side of the smaller woman, propped herself on one elbow, leaned down and kissed her softly. "The feeling's mutual, Elle."
Lucky tilted her head, smiled into Vickie's eyes. "Less talking, more touching, pretty girl."
Vickie sat up and looked over the slender, toned body beside her, She reached down and slowly ran one hand up the length of one of the blonde's leg, over one hipbone and, as she reached her stomach, she hesitated. Lucky gently took the woman's hand and pulled it to her breast.
Vickie gasped as she gently caressed the soft flesh, ran her fingertips over the tightened nipple. Lucky reached up, ran her fingers through Vickie's hair, then very gently pulled the woman's head toward her breast. "Use your mouth, baby."
The brunette rubbed each cheek, then her forehead over the nipple before taking it into her mouth. She felt Lucky inhale sharply and she trailed one hand down the woman's body, over a thatch of blonde curls and swirled her fingers in the wetness she found there. Both women groaned.
Vickie removed her mouth and hand from the blonde's body and abruptly sat up, announcing, "Oh yeah. That's a yes. I'm a lesbian."
Lucky's face was beautifully flushed but her eyes were sharp. "I'm glad you've got that settled."
The brunette's eyes twinkled. "Elle, you were so nice to help me with that." She brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her long arms around them. "You wouldn't believe it, but I was thinking about," she chuckled, "I was thinking about hiring a prostitute if-"
"What?! That's crazy. Crazy and potentially dangerous." Lucky narrowed her eyes, "Of course, one benefit with a pro is that you could feel her up and she wouldn't care if you stopped."
The blonde thumped the other woman on the leg, "With a friend, however, you have to finish what you start."
Vickie snickered, "You mean this is a ride I can't get off?"
"Not until I get off." The blonde's eyes looked nearly incandescent. "As for you, you'll get off when I let you."
The blonde launched herself up, pulled the brunette forward with her sweatshirt and, in one quick move, the taller woman was astonished to find herself on her back pinned to the blanket under a beautiful naked woman.
"Wow! Where'd you learn that?"
"You remember my brothers. They needed lots of discipline," the blonde woman whispered into a neck that was quickly covered with goose bumps.
"Can I touch your ass?"
Lucky pulled her head up, raised herself on her elbows to take a bit of her body weight off of the woman beneath her. "You can touch everything. You have a full access pass, Victoria."
Elle then hesitated, for a long, long time. "When you touch my back, it's going to feel a little funny. To you, I mean. Not to me. There're a couple of scars back there. They don't hurt-okay? Just wanted you to know."
As Lucky knew she would, Vickie tentatively ran her hands over her back, her blue eyes widening as she, obviously, tried to find where scars weren't.
"Oh, Elle," her voice was soft and compassionate. "Can I see?"
Lucky's voice was sharper than she intended. "Jesus! Isn't it disgusting enough to feel it? Why do you have to see it?"
"It's not disgusting-at all."
Lucky felt the woman's hands gently stroking her.
"Not at all. I just wanted to see what I was touching."
Lucky took a deep breath, "Remember when it happened, Vic? How much it used to upset you to see what they'd done? It doesn't hurt anymore and the scars have really healed well."
Vickie took this in, then nodded, "Yeah, I remember. I'm sure it's a lot better."
Lucky rolled off of Vickie, turned over on her stomach and turned her face toward the fire so that she wouldn't have to see the reaction.
Vickie sat up and looked at the petite blonde's back and stifled a gasp. The scars were raised, livid and covered almost the entire surface of the petite torso. The largest scars were words. WHORE, SLUT, CUNT, BITCH had been, from what Vickie could tell, cut and burned into the woman's skin.
Tears sprang to her eyes but she quickly wiped them away. She found that she could make her voice sound much calmer than she felt. "You know what, Elle? They really do look a lot better-and you have a seriously great ass."
The blonde woman chuckled but didn't turn toward her. The brunette made her decision and quickly removed her clothes.
"Hey Elle, turn around." The blonde lifted up on her elbows, turned toward the other woman and stared."
"Now whose eyes are dinner plates?"
They grinned at each other.
"Would you still be up for sex?"
"No, Elle. But I'd be up for making love."
The smaller woman looked away, "I don't know. I haven't done that in years."
"Then I'd say you're overdue."
Vickie saw the indecision in the other woman's eyes, stood up, offered her hand. "C'mon, let's go to bed."
Two hours later, Vickie sighed as she dropped onto her pillow, "You're amazing."
"Well, thanks-but, remember, I'm a pro. And quid pro quo, sweetie, you're the one who's amazing."
She caressed the blonde's face, "if I ask you a few questions, would you tell me the truth?"
"Is your name really Lucky?"
"But everyone calls you Elle?"
"You really did go to graduate school?"
"Yes. And I graduated."
"You live in Geneva?"
"You're here for a couple of weeks?"
"And you don't have to work as a prostitute for money, do you?"
"No. I don't." Elle turned onto her back. "I guarantee you, no matter what your salary is-that mine's bigger than yours."
Vickie looked at her new lover's profile. "That's enough, Elle. Let's get some rest."
One of Elle's eyebrows shot up and she turned toward Vickie, "I know you want to ask-I'm sure you want to know what-"
Vickie nodded and pulled the woman into an embrace, "I do, but we'll get to those things some other time."
"Some other time?"
"Some other time when haven't just satisfied each other nearly into a coma. Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
Elle pulled away from the woman, her face very serious. "For money or for real?"
"No more money between us. For real."
The blonde woman's face became even more serious, "Vickie?.I know this might sound harsh but," she hesitated, "but fuck it. For money, I have sex with married people all the time and I never think twice about it. But in real life, I don't date people who cheat on their significant others. I don't cheat and I don't date cheaters. So-no. Sorry. Can't have dinner with you."
Elle watched Vickie process this for a few seconds, expecting the woman to be angry-or to defend herself. But the blue eyes only filled with unshed tears. "I deserve that. I'll break up with him tomorrow."
Elle's eyebrows shot up again, "So you can have dinner with a hooker you just met? Uh, think about that twice, Victoria."
Vickie dropped her head on her pillow, "Elle, in one year, he's cheated on me six times that I can verify. I only spend-at the most-one evening per week with him."
"Then why the hell are you dating the bastard?"
"Dad adores him."
"Are you kidding me? Then let Daddy fuck him-you don't have to."
Vickie chuckled, "I'm having to do serious mental yoga not to have that picture in my head."
Elle smiled. "I'll have dinner with you just so
you break up with him-but only if you break up with him. How 'bout that?"
"That's a deal. What do you want for breakfast? I'm cooking."
"Anything and everything you have in the house. I didn't see a pet-but you could cook it, too. I'll be starving."
"I offered you dinner."
Elle shrugged, looking up at the ceiling, "I know! And I never
turn down food. Guess I was too hungry for you. Take that as a compliment."
Vickie wrapped her arms around the smaller woman. "Sleep, and I'll keep you warm. And tomorrow, I'll feed you everything."
Everything. Elle thought about that for a few minutes, feeling safer than she had since the attack.
She fell asleep.