Ciara's POV
The dim light in the hotel room seemed to be closing in on me as he blurted out his proposition. "Be my call girl." His smirk made my skin crawl. "If you need that much money, it's that easy, darling."
"No," I shook my head, trying to hide my desperation. "I'm not a prostitute. I just need help for tonight. Besides, I know you want me."
He raised an eyebrow. "What's so hard to understand? It's not like you're not already... experienced. You're soured, I'm just doing you a favor, so relax young woman." His condescending tone made my blood boil.
His words stung and crawled disgustedly to my skin.
Soured?
I tried to turn the tables on him, but it backfired, and the conversation escalated into an argument I wasn't prepared for.
