06-23-2014, 01:22 AM
Zoya watched White straighten out the stool and make his way back to his booth. Realizing that she probably could have done that herself instead of studying his face, she grabbed her shots and hurriedly told the bar tender to add it to her tab. Following the man to the booth seemed like the safest thing for her to do after that little fiasco he’d just saved her ass from, so she took her drinks with her and walked after him.
He gestured for her to get in the booth and she did as much. Having her back against the safety of a wall seemed like a much better alternative to having someone else come and grab her bottom. Zoya knew just how her body looked, but that didn’t mean she wanted every imbecile in the bar to test just how firm her backside was.
This guy wasn’t a bad looking man at all. He was tough. Even if she had not witnessed it first hand, Zoya would have been able to tell not to push his buttons too far. Handsome and gruff enough to be a very alluring combination for some women, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but she couldn’t help wondering if he ever smiled. White was definitely older than her, but not sufficiently so as to keep calling her kid.
“Client?”
Two seconds later, and the puzzled look that his question had created turned into one of utter shock. What big ugly had said sunk in and was finally made pretty clear. They, White included, seemed to think she was a hooker! She took one of the tequila shots and downed it. The drink went down much more smoothly than earlier in the evening.
As she settled the small glass back on the table, she started to laugh softly. “Rough, yes, but you are mistaken. I don’t do clients.”
She emphasized the word so as to make her point clear. “Is every girl that walks in here expected to be… to have clients?”
He gestured for her to get in the booth and she did as much. Having her back against the safety of a wall seemed like a much better alternative to having someone else come and grab her bottom. Zoya knew just how her body looked, but that didn’t mean she wanted every imbecile in the bar to test just how firm her backside was.
This guy wasn’t a bad looking man at all. He was tough. Even if she had not witnessed it first hand, Zoya would have been able to tell not to push his buttons too far. Handsome and gruff enough to be a very alluring combination for some women, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive, but she couldn’t help wondering if he ever smiled. White was definitely older than her, but not sufficiently so as to keep calling her kid.
“Client?”
Two seconds later, and the puzzled look that his question had created turned into one of utter shock. What big ugly had said sunk in and was finally made pretty clear. They, White included, seemed to think she was a hooker! She took one of the tequila shots and downed it. The drink went down much more smoothly than earlier in the evening.
As she settled the small glass back on the table, she started to laugh softly. “Rough, yes, but you are mistaken. I don’t do clients.”
She emphasized the word so as to make her point clear. “Is every girl that walks in here expected to be… to have clients?”