Dangerous Master by Tawny Taylor

again and didn’t stop until her toes curled and her heart was thumping against her breastbone. Against her mouth, he murmured, “I might.”

8
     
    M andy had been in some hellholes, but this dump had them beat. The neon sign outside glowed red, LIVE NUDE GIRLS ! FANTASY BOOTHS . She would’ve thought there’d be no need for these dens of filth anymore, with so much porn readily available on the Net. Evidently, at least in this neighborhood, Internet porn hadn’t taken such a big bite out of the adult entertainment industry.
    Lucky her, because that meant she got to follow her mark into this dump. It was so nasty inside, she realized immediately, that she wished she could’ve worn a full-body condom over her clothes.
    She tried to ignore the guy at the counter. His leer was creepy enough to make any girl feel dirty. But, because Clark wasn’t in the main lobby/store area, she had to assume he’d taken residence, with his stripper friend, in one of the private booths.
    Which meant she needed to get into the back, hopefully without parting with any of her hard-earned cash. “I’m looking for someone,” she said to the guy at the counter.
    The guy took a glance around. “Nobody’s here.”
    “Yeah. I can see that. I think he headed into one of the booths.”
    The guy shrugged.
    Assuming he was paid little more than minimum wage, Mandy shoved her hand into her pocket and withdrew her small wad of cash. “How much?”
    “For a booth? Thirty-five for five minutes.”
    “That’s insane.”
    The guy shrugged. “You want to get back there, you gotta pay. Unless ...” His icky gaze crept up and down her body before pausing at chest level.
    Understanding exactly what he was trying to suggest, she slapped the cash onto the counter. “I’ll pay.”
    The creep sneered as he handed her a key. “That’s too bad. We could use some fresh ... faces... .”
    “Not in this lifetime.” Fisting the key, she waited for him to let her into the narrow back hall. The door slammed behind her. She took a hesitant step forward, grimacing. It was claustrophobic back here. Small and dirty. Lit only by strings of red-colored Christmas lights stapled to the paneled wall. The hallway ended only about ten feet ahead. A metal door led out to the alley that snaked behind the crumbling building. There were only five doors lining the left wall. None on the right. Each door had a letter spray-painted on it. A through E. Clark and his friend had to be in one of them. Booth B was empty. She was holding the key for that door.
    She was here now and had very little time if Clark was as cheap as she was. How would she catch him in the act?
    Feeling a little brave, she tried the doors of the other four booths. All locked. She pressed her ear to each door. She heard people, voices, moaning, in only two of them. Booths A and D. Which one was Clark in?
    A. Or D. It was a fifty-fifty shot.
    Fifty-fifty was better than she’d had so far.
    She thought about the stack of overdue bills sitting on her desk, collecting dust.
    She thought about Sarah, who’d given her a little nudge this morning about the raise she’d promised ... three months ago.
    And she thought about her empty refrigerator. She’d been living on ramen noodles and rice; she’d almost forgotten what real food tasted like.
    This was it, the best chance she’d had so far to get her proof, collect the much-needed bonus, and put this case behind her at last. She fished her maxed-out JCPenney credit card out of her wallet, hoping to jimmy the lock, eanie-meanie’d the two doors, picked Booth D, and with her camera ready, she slid the card between the door and the jamb. The door swung open, she rushed in, and without checking to see who was in the booth, snapped a picture and dove back out, racing to her booth and locking herself in.
    “What the fuck?!” a man’s angry voice boomed.
    There was a sound of slamming doors, pounding feet, angry shouts. Mandy crouched in the darkest corner