Sweeter Than Honey by Mary B. Morrison Read Free Book Online Page B

of the business. I felt Lace really cared about me. Maybe the talk we had at the casino bar was her discreet way of telling me she was quitting and leaving me in charge.
    If I was supposedly, as they claimed, invaluable, then why was everything a secret? Valentino, a modern day Charlie from that throwback TV show Charlie’s Angels, was a mystery man to all of his girls. Lace said I was her personal pick—girl number twelve. I was the last of her girls hired along with Onyx and Starlet, so she supposedly had some special affinity for me, for us. Like being in a gang, rumor had it, once hired, none of Valentino’s girls could quit. Not alive. Maybe Lace was setting me up to get arrested or something. Naw, she wouldn’t do that to me.
    Glancing around the five-hundred-square-foot dressing room at my counterparts preparing for their fuck festival, I wondered, what made us do this? Top models who never quite made it to the top. Maybe it was the amazing layout of the space. A huge room bursting with the latest designer everything, perfect for an aspiring model’s go-see: Tiffany’s jewelry, clothes, shoes, Juicy Couture purses, underwear, wigs…everything a woman needed to wear in order to make a man look good right before stroking his ego, then sucking his dick. What hurt most was, we weren’t permitted to keep any of this stuff. Especially not the semen-stained underwear that could be used as evidence against Valentino and Lace.
    “You okay?” Starlet asked, sitting in her makeup chair next to mine.
    Turning on my CD player, I said, “I can’t do this anymore, Star.” With trembling hands clinging to each armrest, I continued. “I’m tired of sleeping with strange men every night, letting them have their way with me. This is destroying my body and my self-esteem. Yours too. You know you don’t like having these chauvinistic wealthy pigs waddle all in your pussy, especially the old farts, fucking us with everything except their dick. I want out. We started together. Let’s quit together. Come with me, Star. And let’s take O with us too.”
    Gasping, Starlet inhaled, then whispered, “Are you crazy? Is that a cell phone? You’re gonna get all of us strip-searched if Valentino finds out. And Valentino’s arranged strip searches are worse than getting fucked by a trick with a twelve-inch dick.”
    My eyes followed Starlet’s stunning amber and gray ones around the room until Starlet looked toward the floor, then continued, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say no dumb stuff like quitting, Sunny.” Gently, Starlet held my hands. “Listen, all we have to do is get these guys off for a few hours and we’re done. I’ll help you get through the night. I’ll even do your tricks for you if you want me to. Just finish getting ready, okay?”
    “Yeah, tonight, but what about tomorrow night, and the next night?” I countered.
    “So what? You’re the top girl and you make two grand flippin’ tricks. Two grand a night cash and that’s more money than any of us and more than you made flippin’ burgers at In-and-Out, so what you complaining about?”
    “I feel dirty, Star. Like I can’t wash ’em off me. At least I could wash off the smell of beef patties and french fries. But the semen in my mouth”—I swallowed, digging my fingernails under my chin—“the sperm trickling down my throat”—I shrieked, clawing my nails down to my collarbone, peeling away layers of radiant flesh. “When they cum inside me, I can’t get it, get them…” Fighting back tears, I blinked repeatedly, then sniffed, “Y’all go ahead without me.”
    Fluttering away her tears, Starlet squeezed my hands. “Stop it, Sunny. You’re hurting yourself and me too.” Starlet’s bronzy-colored lips pressed against my forehead, then lingered for a moment. “I can’t watch you do this to yourself. I gotta finish getting ready, but whatever you do, don’t do anything stupid like break any more of Valentino’s rules. You’re