Lips pressed tight and body hunched over, Tessa didn’t move for a few seconds after Peter walked away. She gulped in air to ease the constriction in her chest.
Why did she feel so disappointed? So hurt. It wasn’t the first time a man had turned her down. And it wouldn’t be the last.
So why did Peter’s apparent disapproval and rejection sting more than any other she’d experienced before?
At the early days, she and Anuli had struggled with identifying locations where they could find men who would be willing to pay for sexual services. They hadn’t wanted to walk the streets, instead selecting their targets from clubs and bars. In those days, it had been tough, and she’d had to grow a thick skin and keep her primary objective in mind. This was only ever going to be a means to an end. Not a lifetime career.
When Anuli had found out about this nightclub, they’d hit the jackpot. The men who frequented the place were always willing to spend the cash, especially for a night with a beautiful girl.
So Peter’s reaction, especially after the fun they'd had in the club, had been a punch to the gut.
The whooshing sounds of sliding doors made her look up towards the entrance to the hotel, expecting Peter to walk out. To say he didn’t mean to leave her standing out here in the chilly night.
Instead, a man and woman holding hands walked inside the building.
She blew out a heavy sigh. It was silly of her to hope. What was she going to do now? Strangely, her stomach grew thick at the idea of going back to the nightclub. She couldn’t go home. Not without earning some cash tonight.
Her phone beeped. She took a deep breath before unlocking it.
Where are you? A text message from Anuli.
I’m outside. I’m coming back in. She sent a reply and headed in the direction of the night club. There was no point moping around. There were other fishes in the sea. And she meant to catch one tonight.
The doorman let her back in. They had a good deal going on with him. He guaranteed their entrance into the nightclub by slipping him a thousand Naira note every time they came here. When they started visiting, he would point out the real high rollers for them, and they would tip him extra. It was a high taxation, but it ensured they earned money without harassment.
Inside, Tessa found Anuli seating in a cluster of chairs with two guys she introduced as Telema and David.
Probably in their late twenties or early thirties, they were dark-skinned and okay looking. Honestly, their looks didn’t matter. On their nights working, the girls judged the men by two standards.
Were the men spending money freely? This was the first criteria. The girls were here to earn money and a man who parted with his cash readily was more likely to pay for sex than one who didn’t.
Were the men acting like douche bags? Also important as they’d found out that men who behaved like assholes were more trouble than they were worth.
Telema and David passed the first criteria. They ordered bottle after bottle of champagne. From the conversation, it seemed they’d sealed a big contract and were in a celebratory mode.
On the other hand, Tessa’s douche bag meter appeared to be broken as she couldn’t quite get into the party spirit. Although both men seemed charming enough, her initial enthusiasm from being at the club had fizzled away with Peter’s departure.
“Is everything okay?” Anuli leaned close to her side. It seemed her friend noticed her lack of interest in the fun atmosphere.
“Sure.” She forced a smile on her face. This wasn’t the place to discuss what had happened with Peter. Not when she still had to get through the evening and earn the money she needed.
It shouldn’t matter anyway. Peter was just some guy like any other guy in here. What she’d shared with him had been just a moment in time. It was gone now. No big deal. She needed to snap out of it.
“How about we take this party to a more private location, ladies?” David said it more like a statement than a question with a huge grin on his face.
Tessa’s skin prickled at having to tell the men the cost of spending the night with them. She’d never been shy about what she did, but her encounter with Peter left her feeling raw.
“Do they know the score?” she asked her friend in a small voice.
“Yes. I settled the deal already. Fifteen grand each for the night,” Anuli replied with a wink and a smile.
The men were generous which also put a smile on Tessa’s face. Perhaps this night wouldn’t be such a dud after all.
Still, her scalp prickled as she hung onto Telema’s arm. He led her out of the venue and across the courtyard in the same route that Peter had taken. Not again.
“Are you staying at the hotel?” she asked, not wanting to go in there in case she bumped into Peter, which was ridiculous as the place was massive. What were the chances of the two of them meeting again? Minimal, right?
“Just for the night.” The guy winked at her.
She realised he meant he was only staying there because he probably didn’t want to take her home to his house. She glanced at his ring finger but didn’t see any evidence that he was married. It didn’t mean he wasn’t.
Still, what did she care? She wanted the night to be over already. The sooner they got down to business the sooner she could get out of here.
Inside, the foyer was well lit and modern—sleek surfaces and gleaming marble flooring. Everything glittered. The place was classy, and the management was strict about call girls in the premises. The doorman at the nightclub had warned them not to come here, ages ago.
There was a smaller, cheaper motel just down the road that they usually ended up in with clients who didn’t want to take them back to their homes.
At the reception desk, the men arranged for the accommodation and within minutes they headed up to the rooms in the lift. David had his arm around Anuli’s shoulder as they turned left on the first-floor corridor.
Telema led her to the right and opened a door with his key card. As soon as she stepped into the room, Peter crept back into her mind. Was he staying in one of the adjacent rooms? What if he heard them?
Don’t be ridiculous, girl.
She gave herself a mental shake. Of course, he couldn’t hear them? Even if he stayed next door and heard sounds, he wouldn’t know who was in the room.
Telema shut the door behind her. “I saw you dancing tonight. You made me wish I was the one dancing with you. Now I have the chance. I want you to dance with me.”
Tessa felt something twist in her gut. The dance with Peter had been special. She hadn’t danced that way with anyone else before. So lost in the moment, she hadn’t even been aware someone was watching them. Now she wasn’t sure she could recreate the atmosphere, even if she recreated the moves.
“There’s no music,” she replied, looking around the clean room with a double bed, a table and chair and a door leading to the bathroom. Yep, this was definitely above her price range.
Grinning, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and fiddled with it until a song started playing. It was the same one from the night club.
She shook her head in disbelief that he would play the same track she’d been dancing to, and his grin only widened as he tugged her close.
“Come on, Tessa. Show me your moves.”
She placed her hands on his shoulders as he wrapped his arm around her back, his hands on her butt.
Peter hadn’t done that. He hadn’t groped her or leered at her. Still, she’d been turned on in his presence.
Now, Telema felt all wrong. Smelled all wrong. He smelled of alcohol and sweat mixed with cologne. He wasn’t as tall as Peter which meant she stood taller in her high heels. But Telema’s body was bulkier like someone who spent a lot of time lifting weights in the gym.
His erection pressed against her hip as he moved in sync with the song, squeezing her bum cheeks. Instead of getting excited, nausea roiled her stomach. The fast way he held her made her want to wriggle away. Her breath locked in her chest as if he was suffocating her.
She couldn’t help comparing the man to Peter. Dancing with Peter had been different. She’d been comfortable, secure and excited in his arms.
Now uneasiness made her move rigidly, and she swallowed excessively. She certainly wasn’t aroused, although that didn’t matter in the scheme of things. In situations like this, the client’s pleasure was more important than hers. She was getting paid to please him.
Still, when the track changed, she shifted away from Telema in a hurry.
“We’re not done yet,” he said as another song came on, and he pulled her back, this time turning her back to his chest, her bum to his crotch.
As soon as he pressed his lips on the bare skin of her shoulder, her body itched as if ants were crawling on her skin and she stepped away from him. “I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“What?” He reared back, looking surprised. Then a knowing smile curled his lips. “Do you want more money? I’ll pay you an extra five thousand to give me the sexy dance.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
Twenty thousand Naira for a few hours with him? It was double what she would’ve charged Peter and would come in handy.
But this whole situation felt wrong. She couldn’t put a finger on why except that she didn’t want to dance with Telema. It was as if she was ruining the special moment she’d had with Peter. Silly, but there was no other way she could explain it.
“That’s not what I mean. I don’t want more money. I changed my mind about the whole deal,” she said, meeting his gaze squarely so he would understand that she was serious.
He frowned. “You followed me up here. And now you want to change your mind? You can’t do that.” He took a step towards her, shoulders squared, eyes glaring, crowding her.
She backed away. Not wanting to turn her back to him, she reached behind probing for the door knob. “Yes, I can. You haven’t paid me yet, so you haven’t lost anything.”
“I’m not going to lose anything because you’re going to do whatever I say.” His face was now an angry mask, and he grabbed her shoulder, twisting her towards the bed.
She wriggled in his hold, pushing to get away.
“Let go of me,” she shouted, her mouth dried out.
The rip of her dress sounded like an omen as she shoved against him. Panic rose. Adrenaline rushed through her as her pulse pounded. She had to get away from him. He was bigger and stronger. If he got her onto the bed, she wouldn’t be able to get away from him.
Raising her leg, she didn’t have the space to knee him in the groin. So she did the alternative and stamped on his foot as hard as she could with the spiked heel of her stiletto.
“Ouch!” he yelped and loosened his grip on her arms, bending over to grab his foot. “Bitch! You’ll pay for this.”
Tessa didn’t wait to see what he would do. She rushed to the door, flicked the lock and yanked it open. She ran into the corridor and headed for the stairs, ignoring the lift because she didn’t know how long it would take to arrive. She didn’t want to be in the hallway when Telema came out.
Moving fast in the high heels proved tricky. At the top of the stairs, she paused to pull off her shoes and heard stomping footsteps on the carpet behind her. Glancing back, she saw Telema hobbling quickly in her direction, his expression murderous.
She tugged her heels off and raced down the stairs. At the bottom she rushed across the lobby, trying not to draw attention to herself from the receptionist or the man standing guard at the door.
“Stop that girl!”
Tessa froze and glanced back only to find an angry Telema at the bottom of the stairs, pointing a finger as he walked in her direction. She gave a quick look at the male receptionist and the doorman. They both stood at alert now as they finally noticed her.
Shit! There was no way she was going to get past the security man and the receptionist looked ready to apprehend her. How was she going to get out of this jam?
“Sir, what’s the matter?” the receptionist asked.
Telema stomped over and grabbed Tessa’s arm, dragging her to the desk while she tugged her arm to get free.
“This girl stole my money,” he said.
“What?” She twisted, glaring at him. “That’s a lie. I didn’t touch your money.”
With pursed lips, he cocked his head as if saying ‘who’s going to believe you over me?’
He would be correct. In this kind of situations, people would tend to believe the richer looking person. He was the hotel guest and appeared well-off in his expensive clothes. On the other hand, she was a call girl caught running out of the hotel. She looked guilty. Not to mention she was standing barefooted, her dress torn, her hair in disarray with her shoes and bag in her hand.
“I’m going to call the manager,” the receptionist said and picked up the phone as he looked dubiously from Tessa to Telema.
Oh God! Her night was about to go from bad to worse. What would the manager do? Perhaps get the police involved if Telema persisted with his story. The police would lock her up without question. Things would be a whole lot worse than whatever Telema had planned for them in his room.
She couldn’t be arrested, couldn’t allow people to know what she did for a living.
She lowered her voice so only Telema could hear. “Why are you doing this? I didn’t steal your money.”
He tugged her arm, leading her away from the desk.
“I warned you wouldn’t get away with it,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Look,” she said still annoyed. Why was he so nasty because she didn’t want to have sex with him? “You were trying to force me, and I panicked and kicked you.”
His expression darkened, his nostrils flared.
Men and their fragile egos. She stopped from rolling her eyes in disdain. No need making him angrier. She needed to massage his ego so he’d calm down.
She sucked in a deep breath, counted to five silently and puffed it out. “I’m sorry. Okay? Please tell them I didn’t steal your money.”
“If you want me to forget about it, then you should come back upstairs with me. I know how you can make it up to me.”
He gave her a lecherous grin which only made her stomach congeal and her skin itch. She couldn’t stand him. Not after witnessing him trying to force her. What was she going to do? She didn’t want to be anywhere near Telema. Still, she couldn’t imagine what the hotel management would do with her.
What kind of shit was this?
She knew from firsthand experience that if a man showed any sign of violence once against a woman, then there was high likelihood he would repeat that offence, even when they apologised about the first time.
Mr. George had already shown his hand by rough handling her in the room. If she went back there, then she might as well be prepared to die. He would use aggression again.
She would never willingly give a man the chance to brutalise her once more.
“Tessa?”
At the sound of her name she stiffened and a cold shiver travelled down her spine. She recognised the rumbling voice instantly. The deep cadence was imprinted in her mind and conjured up an image of two bodies writhing on the dance floor.
Oh God. Please, not him. Not now. She prayed it was just her mind playing tricks on her and glanced in the direction of the voice.
Peter strode towards the middle of the lobby from the bar lounge, which was on the opposite side of the reception desk. He dressed in the same outfit as earlier, except his shirt was undone at the top two buttons, his sleeves rolled up his arms to his elbows, and he had a smart phone in his right hand.
He stopped only a few feet from her and Telema. The curl of his lips and wrinkling of his nose registered his disapproval.
Burning rose from her chest to her face. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
Her night had turned into a nightmare.