Free The Bottle Stopper by Angeline Trevena Page B

sexy talk, the women who pretended they were interested, or turned on. He liked his usual women, the ones that made jokes through it, and left straight afterwards because they knew he needed to rest.
    “Want to go again cutie?”
    Harris winced. He especially hated the pet names.
    “No can do,” he replied. “I'm not as young as I used to be.
    The prostitute coughed. The phlegm crackled in her throat. “I bet I can get you going again.”
    Harris pushed himself up to sitting with a groan. “I doubt that.”
    She coughed again. Harris climbed off the end of the bed. “Are you alright?”
    “It's just a cough, nothing to worry about. I took something for it this morning.” She coughed again. It was getting worse.
    Harris backed away. “Are you sure?” He grabbed his habit off the floor and pulled it over his head.
    She coughed, not even covering her mouth this time. “I'm fine, really. Don't get dressed, come back to bed. You have such a great body.”
    Harris laughed. “You get yourself dressed.” He opened his desk drawer and pulled out some credits. He dropped them onto her stomach. “I need something to eat.”
    As he pulled the door closed, she started coughing again. She was absolutely hacking, almost vomiting each time. Harris shook his head.
    “Better not be bloody contagious,” he muttered.
    Harris could still hear her coughing when he was halfway down the corridor. With a bit of luck, if he took his time, she'd be gone by the time he got back.
    “Father Harris.” Brother Grant stepped out of the library. “I've been thinking about what you said. About the, erm, reading lessons. For the unfortunate women.”
    Harris grinned. “Ready to start lessons?”
    “Maybe. I mean, yes.”
    “I may have just the student for you. Let me get something to eat first though. Reading lessons always make me hungry. Come on.” Brother Grant trailed behind him. “What made you change your mind?”
    “Someone lent me some reading material.” He blushed. “Well, actually, it was mainly pictures.”
    Harris laughed. “Piqued your interest, huh?”
    “Well, erm, I suppose so. I thought I might like to give it a try.”
    “Give it a try,” Harris repeated. “That's as good a reason as any.”
    “I just had a few questions.”
    The dining room was already busy, and Harris queued for a bowl of what he could only describe as slop. He led Grant to the far end of a table, away from the other monks.
    “What did you want to ask?”
    Grant pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket. “Will it hurt?”
    “You wrote your questions down?” Harris rolled his eyes. He picked up his spoon in one hand, and rested his head on the other. “No, it won't hurt, unless you want it to.”
    “What?”
    Harris waved his spoon. “I'm joking. No, it won't hurt.”
    “Will she be able to tell that I'm, you know, a virgin?”
    Harris shrugged. “She'll know you're inexperienced. But don't worry about that. You own her for that hour or so, let her do all the work.”
    “What should I pay her?”
    “Whatever you think she's worth. But don't go overboard, we don't want all the girls up here expecting big payouts.”
    “Should I woo her? Kiss her?”
    “God no!” Harris smiled sheepishly as several heads turned in their direction. “No. Do not fall in love.”
    “What if I, you know, make her pregnant?”
    “Then pray it's a girl, and you'll be a national hero.” Harris grimaced as he shovelled the slop into his mouth.
    “But will I be responsible for her?”
    Harris shook his head. “Occupational hazard. She knows the risks. Blame the administration; they pushed contraceptives onto the black market, made them too expensive to buy. Besides, they can make a fortune selling their baby girls.”
    “If they're lucky enough to get one.”
    Harris pushed his bowl away. “We're the unlucky ones. The men on The Floor don't seem to have any problems in creating girls. Now, why do you think that might be?” Harris stood up.
    “I