I'm so excited to release Lure book 1 in my new series, The Hitman's Bait. This is a story of Pretty Woman meets Bonnie and Clyde in a gay romance package, and I hope you love this book as much as I do. Here's an extended peek at chapter one, the set-up.
Nolan’s hand tightened around my neck, his bulkier body stiffening on top of me as he came. I didn’t care one way or the other about what we’d just done. He would never have been my choice—if I had one. Sleeping with him was a necessary evil and came with the job description. As his favorite prostitute.
At least I’d aimed to be the best at something. No one could ever complain I wasn’t a high achiever.
He fell onto the bed beside me, and I sucked in a deep breath into my starved lungs. I stroked my neck and turned my head to the side to hide my scowl. Hopefully, this time, the marks he’d left wouldn’t be bad. Maybe he would be so pleased by my performance tonight he wouldn’t send me out.
A sharp slap connected with my ass, ringing out in the room, and I jerked up to a sitting position.
“Go get cleaned up and put on your kitty costume.”
So much for hoping.
“Do I have to go out tonight?” I peered up at him from under my eyelashes. Sometimes if I was extra sweet toward him, he kept me for the night instead of sending me out to work the streets. I made enough for the week. “None of the other hookers pull even half of what I do.”
“And that’s exactly why I need you on the streets, sweets. Your ass is the only one making me enough money right now. Never thought I’d see the day boy pussy sells more than actual pussy, but what do you know? Here we are. Can’t afford to give you a night off, babe. Sorry.”
No, he wasn’t sorry. Nolan had two needs in life: sex and money. From me, he got both. Now that I’d given him sex, he wanted me to deliver the cash.
“But I’m tired. Just this once, please.”
“I have just the thing that’ll help you keep your energy up, and it’s premium shit too.”
He shuffled over to the end of the bed and jerked the drawer of the nightstand open, cursing when he pulled too hard and it fell on the floor. I peeled the sticky sheets off my body and hopped out of bed.
It wasn’t the first time he’d offered me drugs since he coerced me into “working” for him. I wouldn't say yes tonight. I’d held out for the past six months, and I would for as long as I could.
“Suit yourself. I don’t give a fuck what you do. Just bring me back some money.”
I glanced over my shoulder. He sat with his legs spread, coke or whatever shit he’d mixed in a bag between his naked thighs on the bed. I hastily shrugged on my shorts and T-shirt. Without a word to him, I slipped out of his bedroom. I wouldn’t want to be caught dead with him when he was on that shit. He was tolerable when he was sober, but coked up, he was downright evil and cruel.
“Baby,” he called after me. “You bring me back what you did yesterday, and I’ll buy you something really special.”
Of course, with my money.
I closed the door behind me and—
“Watch where you’re going, bitch.”
Fuck. Not him.
I adopted a contrite expression and turned toward Stu, who’d placed a target on my back since the night Nolan took me here under false pretenses. The black-haired he-devil wore shorts and a see-through tank top. He was ready to work.
“One day you will be, bitch.”
If I had a dime for every time he called me bitch, I would make easy money. I turned toward the stairs and rolled my eyes. Suck my dick, you jealous asshole. In my head, I always won these battles, but I knew better than to speak my thoughts. The taunting, torment, and threats would only get worse. I was lucky some other prostitute hadn’t beaten me to a pulp already, only because of Nolan. The last boy who’d touched me had been sold to a sadistic bastard. Nolan had warned them about touching his prized possession.
I knew better than to think he cared about me. He was only interested in the money my ass earned him every night.
I escaped to the room I shared with one other guy and two girls without further incident. The girls, Gina and Kelly, were cool. They made my living situation tolerable. Raj was always too high to care much about anything besides getting laid and a hit. He was one of the few who didn’t mind his job. In fact, rumor had it that he came from a wealthy family and could go back anytime, but he remained at the whorehouse to live his own life.
“You were with Nolan?” Gina asked when I entered. She was doing Kelly’s hair for the night.
“Yeah, but my plan backfired. He’s sending me out again.”
“Bullshit. You made more than enough for him last night,” Kelly said.
“Well, I was always an overachiever.”
Gina giggled. “I guess you didn’t try hard enough, then, because you’re going back out.”
“I think I made a mistake bringing in so much money last night, and now he’s going to expect this from me every time. Stupid.”
“He can’t. Every night is different.”
“Tell that to Nolan.” Kelly snorted. What are you planning to do, sweetie?
I shrugged. “Do what I do best. Take kitty out to play tonight and bring Nolan his money.”
Gina shook her head. “If only I had your optimism.”
One didn’t get into our line of business, whether voluntarily or forced, without optimism. Otherwise, I’d have lost myself the first time I let a stranger put money in my hand so he could bend me over in a back alley.
After gathering my stuff from the closet I shared with Raj, I walked down the corridor to the communal bathroom everyone on this floor shared. The house had three floors, with the top strictly off-limits unless Nolan requested one of us. The two other floors housed the prostitutes who worked for him. Gender wasn't addressed here. We shared everything, and privacy was just a word in the dictionary.
Many of the other prostitutes had already left, since several had to start early to make the minimum Nolan expected for the night. I stopped and swallowed my groan. Julius. Not the guy I wanted to see. Too late. He smiled at me as he rubbed his silky black hair with a towel.
“Hey, ’sup?” I said casually, then squeezed by him.
“My dick when it’s around you.”
I gagged only because he was behind me and couldn’t see my face. “Your dick’s always up around everybody.”
Julius was one of the rare exclusive tops who worked for Nolan. Unlike the rest of us, who had to find their tricks on the mean streets, Julius could earn his money in the brothel on the third floor. Men who were too ashamed or afraid to display their sexual preferences in their daily lives paid handsomely to be fucked by him. He was the only one making more money than I did for Nolan.
“But it has a special thing for you, baby,” he said.
I ducked into one of the stalls and yanked the curtain in place. If only there was a door.
I stripped the towel from around my waist and turned the shower on full blast. Icy cold wetness slapped against my chest. Fuck. That was cold. Usually, I would let it run hot, but I needed to drown out Julius.
“Just this once, pretty,” he called from the other side of the curtain.
I soaped up my washcloth and scrubbed my body. “Sorry, I can’t hear you.”
Blessed silence filled the bathroom. Was he gone? After a couple of minutes passed and I heard nothing more out of his sweet-talking mouth, I relaxed. I hung my wash cloth and turned to prep myself for the night ahead. I never skimped on this part, as I never knew how many inches I would meet. Many of the guys were average, and I hadn’t met a really hung dude yet, but I never ruled out the possibility.
The shower curtain was yanked back, and I almost dropped the dildo I was working in and out of my ass to loosen things up.
“What the fuck, Julian!”
He grinned. His cock was hard, and he stroked it as he leered at my body.
“Bend over and let me put it in,” he said. “I promise you’ll like it.”
“Nope. Nolan only let us have sex for cash.” Unless it was with him.
“I can pay you.”
“I said no. You know there’s a zero-tolerance policy for harassment here.”
That was one of the positives about the way Nolan operated. He didn’t put up with us being sexually harassed. It was one service he offered for the money we gave him.
“Then just let me watch.” Julius stroked harder, panting. “I won’t touch you.”
Fuck. As long as he didn’t touch me. After everything I’d done since before I fell under Nolan’s protection, I wasn’t the least bit prude. I turned my back to him, hitched my leg onto the bench, and worked the dildo into my ass. My cock was hard, but I wasn’t looking to get off. All I needed was for things to be nice and easy back there so some eager guy who didn’t take the time to stretch me didn’t wreck my ass in his haste to get inside me.
“Fuck,” Julian grunted, and I turned my head. He was shooting his load inside the shower stall. Eww. I skittered back. No touching meant no touching; that included his cum.
“Go now, pervert.”
He gave me a lazy smile. “One of these days, Kit, you’re going to spread that sweet little ass and beg me to come inside you.”
This time, he left for good, whistling on his way out. I quickly finished my prep and dried off before anyone else came into the bathroom.
Nothing was sadder than a lonely hooker who stood out, but in this instant, I didn’t mind. To put some distance between myself and the “mean hooker crew,” spearheaded by none other than Stu, I’d given up my favorite spot to hang, directly under the streetlight so the men who came looking could get a good idea of what they didn’t know they needed until they saw me.
The lighting where I stood might have been poor, but I’d already bagged two amazing tippers for the night, even though they were just good old blow jobs. One was a regular, and all he ever wanted were BJs. He wore a gold band on his third finger and tipped big as if offering penitence for doing something wrong. He would always whisper “sorry” and that it was his last time before he left.
He always came back. Eventually, the guilt wore off, and he returned for the little pleasure he afforded himself.
“Why don’t you take off the ridiculous costume, bitch? You’re scaring the clients away.”
I groaned at Stu’s taunt from a couple of feet away from where he stood in my spot. Everyone loved my soft pink-and-white kitty ears and the matching collar. Maybe if they wore fun costumes, they would get more attention.
“Did you hear what I just said, bitch?”
Ooh, if he calls me bitch one more time…
A car driving toward our spot slowed down. Temporarily distracted, Stu stepped in all his hooker glory. He approached the car, which stopped. I knew little about cars, but the shiny black exterior and sleek look made it obvious the owner had money. Good. If the driver picked Stu, he would feel better about himself and leave me alone for a while.
Stu stepped back onto the pavement. The two other boys in his entourage took a step forward, then moved back again too. Huh. What was going on? Even from a distance, the displeased, sour expression on Stu’s face wasn’t hard to miss.
The driver revved his engine, and the car shot forward past me. About half a block away, it slowed down, reversed, and stopped—right next to me.
Oh shit. If I go with this guy, Stu and his friends who got rejected would hate me even more than they already did.
The window on the passenger’s side rolled down. The interior light flicked on, showing off the deep red of the seats. I tugged at my kitty ears.
The rich baritone reminded me of chocolate dripping down a strawberry. Absolutely decadent.
“I’m sorry. I have another client.”
Oh god, I’m so stupid. Why do I care if Stu and his friends hate me?
“You sure about that? I’ll make it worth your while.”
The driver lowered his head so I could see him more clearly. The “no” got stuck in my throat. Holy fuck. He was beautiful with high cheekbones and a classically handsome face. This wasn’t some guy who you fucked in a back alley. This was a guy you took home to meet your parents and promised you a happily ever after, even if you didn’t believe it existed.
The driver got out and walked around the car. He was impossibly tall, making me feel like a china doll. I couldn’t make out his face properly, but the poor lighting didn’t hide how well his suit framed his body. His parted jacket revealed a pristine white shirt beneath. The first two buttons were undone, displaying skin I wanted to see up close and personal.
Fuck, I’d been wrong. It seemed he was a fuck-me-in-the-dirty-alley sort of guy after all.
“Good evening.” He opened the door of the passenger’s side, and my mouth dropped open. Oookay, so not a fuck-me-in-the-dirty-alley guy, then. It felt good that my first assumption about him hadn’t been wrong.
“Want to join me for an entertaining evening, kitty?” he asked in that rich butterscotch voice of his.
Damn. I loved butterscotch, but him calling me kitty robbed me of the ability to breathe properly.
I glanced down the street at the guys who watched my exchange with the mysterious driver.
Screw them. It wasn’t every day I fucked someone who looked like this.
“Sounds fun.” I flashed him a full smile, the one that made my dimples stand out, and walked toward him.
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(c) 2022 Gianni Holmes