His thumb was rubbing her hand in small circles and Ricky almost laughed. Not meanly. It was fairly adorable, all things considered. Obviously he didn’t spend a lot of time with whores. Gentle touches, innocent gestures…they were kind of unknown in a place like this. She shook her head in amusement and gave his hand an encouraging little squeeze as she wove through the crown towards the doors leading upstairs to the rooms. She just hoped this didn’t mean he was going to be one of those clingy Johns that thought they could “save” her. She’d had one or two of those in her time, though never here. She’d stripped for a couple of months at this dive in New York and there had been a guy who came in two, sometimes three times a week just to watch her. It had been sweet at first. Flattering in a way. But it had gotten creepy all too quickly. When he’d followed her onto the train home one night, she’d known enough was enough. She’d packed a single bag and took off, not even picking up her last check.
His offer to wait while she went to her room softened her a little bit. Maybe he was just a nice guy. Maybe she was his first experience in a place like this. She didn’t even know, in point of fact, if he expected sex from her. Maybe he really did just want blood and was trying to live a clean life. She could respect that.
“It’s not that,” she tried to explain. “I live in the building. I usually do things in my own room because it’s mine and I’m comfortable there. But all the rooms have the same stuff, so we’ll be fine.” She smirked sideways at him. “As long as you’re not planning to order anything not on the menu, of course.” Ricky checked the room number on her key and headed for the door. She dropped the man’s hand long enough to unlock the room and push open the door. The room was comfortable, even a bit luxurious, but surprisingly nondescript, like all the rooms. The blankets and sheets were a deep red. Ricky had always found it a bit hilarious that the beds came equipped with blankets. Who the Hell needed blankets in these beds? Who was using them for sleep? A bottle of wine sat on the long bar by wall with two sparklingly clean glasses ready for use. Ricky moved to the bed side table and checked the drawer to make sure everything she’d need for clean up was already there. Everything seemed to be in order. A thrill went up her spine, as it always did, when she realized the fun was about to start. Though she hadn’t regained the sense of elation she’d had when she sat down, she was doing her best to get over the bump that was this private room. She sat down on the foot of the bed and shot the man her best bedroom eyes, waiting to see what he expected.
“So, Mr. Smith. Am I allowed to ask why you’re such a big deal, or would you have to kill me if you told me?” She smiled, almost coyly, trying to put him at ease.