"You're telling me. She's a. Call girl?" Thomas glowered, and snatched the book from Harry's hands even though Harry was holding it out to him. He huffed an annoyed grumble, as his eyes scanned the page. And went big. "Fuck me. She's an expensive call girl."
He closed the book and stuffed it in a pocket, out of sight. he didn't want to look at it, didn't want to think about it. Justine was his, and if he couldn't touch her, no one could. She loved him, she wouldn't want to submit to some wack job that had to hire a call girl to get his fix.