Free Blurred Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 1) by Breena Wilde Page A

it.”
    “Yes, master.” I moan loudly , acting as though he’s the best lay I’ve ever had. “Oh, God. You’re fucking me so good.”
    “Yeah whore. I know how to fuck. No one is ever going to be better than me. Say it!”
    “ You’re the best fuck I’ll ever have, Master.”
    After several minutes, I feel his body tense. He’ll come again soon. “ Can I touch myself, master?” I ask, hoping he agrees. “Please. I want to come with you inside me.”
    He slaps my ass again. “Yes, whore. Touch yourself, but only come once. I’ll know if it’s more.”
    “Yes, Master.” I touch my clit. Massage it until the tension starts to build. And then I come, the orgasm racking my body. He comes quickly after. It’s always faster for the men if they can feel me come.
    He slides out of my ass and rolls onto his back. “Get another condom and suck my dick until I come again, whore.”
    “Yes, Master.” I climb off the bed and steel myself. This man will definitely go the full hour. He obviously wants his money’s worth.

 
     
    Chapter 2
     
    The alarm goes off at seven o’clock, not a.m., but p.m. It’s a hazard of my job: sleep all day and take care of business all night. But I’m already awake. Lying in bed, preparing for what tonight holds.
    “Turn that fucking thing off. It’s hurting my brain.” My roommate, Jessica, tosses her pillow at the nightstand, sending the alarm clock crashing to the floor. It’s still ringing, though. “Holy fuck, turn it off.”
    I get out of my twin-sized bed and handle the clock.
    Jessica sits up. “Is tonight the night?” Her hair is a frizzy mess of blond curls. They’re standing all over her head. Makeup from last night streaks her face, including some red lipstick. When she’s put together she’s very beautiful, willowy. Tall with a killer body and eyes the color of creamy caramel.
    Jessica came to Los Angeles to be an actress, as did eighty-five percent of the prostitutes in L.A. County. There’s no way I would ever become an actress; my life is already way too full of drama.
    Anyway, Jessica did a commercial and a few small speaking parts, but that doesn’t pay the bills for very long.
    When I found her she was nearly dead from starvation. I took her in, gave her a place to stay, food to eat. When she found out what I did, she wanted in. She’s definitely better at it than me, but I’m persistent, like a dog with a bone. If I want something, I won’t give up.
    Prostitution isn’t the best job in the world, but it keeps me from being homeless. Sure, there are tons of people who say it’s an evil occupation and that everyone who does it or takes part in it is evil as well. I say they can suck it. We all work to earn a living, I just do mine on my back.
    A s a businesswoman I want to be my own boss. Get out from under the thumb of Fileze the Sleave, my dirty-no-good-pimp.
    I swallow the jittery moths climbing my throat. “Yep. Fileze says if I do this one last job, he’ll let me go. And then I’ll be my own boss. I’ll be able to dictate with who, how far, and how much.”
    “Yeah, but you know Fileze isn’t going to make this easy. It’ll probably be one of his asshole drug friends.”
    “I know,” I say throwing my pink comforter across my bed in an attempt to make it. Grabbing my shower bag, I walk to the bathroom in our tiny one bedroom apartment. “You working tonight?”
    “Of course. There’s no rest for the wicked.” She laughs and throws her baby blue My Little Pony at me.
    I catch it and toss it back. “K, I’ll hurry.”
     

     
    My pimp told me to wear a party dress. The only one I have is tight, lacy red, and cuts about mid-thigh. I style and dry my hair until it’s shiny and curls gently at the ends. When I’m finished I walk out of the bathroom.
    “What do you think?”
    Jessica, who’s still sleeping, rolls over and groans. She pushes her hair off her face and smiles. “You look smokin’ hot. Dayum. I’d tap