Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Of course you do! The other girls live in multi-room suites. Much nicer than the bunks we share downstairs.” Nudging the guy at his side, he said, “Right, Verne? You and I both know Jessica’s room well.”
“How much does that cost?” Because this was fascinating information.
“Oh, twenty-five thousand tickets a night! But it’s a real bed, not a pallet. And there is a private toilet and a soft woman.”
Jessica was nice. Quiet, disassociated. Kept to herself. Wasn’t the kind to put broken glass in the new girl’s food.
Someone deserving of a fine room to rest in, considering the shit she had to put up with.
“I like her.” Which should be said. “Jessica’s cool.”
The men at the table toasted Jessica’s name. Clicked their glasses and shared a moment of comradery Eugenia knew better than to analyze.
And then she saw him watching her.
Because this was his night to “win” the bets. She’d be in his rooms for a week, and he wanted every man here to know it. So he’d hold the prize. So he’d run the money.
Dirtbag.
A dirtbag who came to collect her when the bell was rung and the men lined up to dump their food and drink on Scarlett and Kim.
Where everyone could hear, he said, “We struck a deal, siren. Come along now, and let’s discuss that deepthroat you claimed to be an expert at performing.”
He led her away by the hand, wrapping an arm around her middle, as she hissed, “I’d throw myself off the side of this boat before I’d take your sorry penis in my mouth.” She was tempted to do it at that moment. Which was precisely why he’d put that covetous arm around her waist. “How many women have jumped overboard?”
His reply was easy. “I haven’t lost one yet. In fact, all those who leave always come back.”
“Bullshit.”
But Joan. Nice—as much as Eugenia hated to admit it—helpful, accommodating Joan had come back.
Brooke would be leaving after ten more men fucked her. Something she might accomplish in as little as three days. And no way was that girl ever coming back to this place. Not when she’d worked so hard to earn her way off.
Eugenia couldn’t wait to see her go, to wave and well wish, and taste a bit of freedom she’d never earn. At least not with tickets and whoring.
Chapter Six
The captain’s rooms were…
Much nicer than hers. Music came from an AI in the corner, Alecia. A device Eugenia had not seen in six years. A bit of hoarded history not one of the women had mentioned when they gathered for breakfast to poke fun at her turn.
And she’d thought she’d heard it all. His sexual preferences—hard, fast, from behind. His tendencies to brood if he wasn’t in the mood or the girl talked too much. Captain’s competitiveness at games and the way he refused to touch after sex.
The women were allowed to sleep on the bed, at a distance, but most chose the couch after it was over.
And he never, ever ejaculated inside. Same rules on the deck. The ol’ pull out and pray method.
Despite Eugenia’s lack of interest, they had given her a primer on the animal.
Manus dickus assholeus.
The music though…
“Hold on for a moment, eh?” Her smile dropped as he pulled her inside. Eugenia had not heard pre-bomb music in so long it felt like stepping on the moon.
“I had a feeling you’d like PJ Harvey.”
Stricken, she listened, memories flooding in of campfires and lovers. Marshmallows and making out in their tent. The ground shaking to this exact song when the world ended as she climaxed from some extremely satisfying sixty-nineing.
But the ground kept shaking, and the camping party figured it had to be Mt. Saint Helen.
Not nuclear war.
There was cell signal enough to listen to the screams of newscasters as more cities blew apart. And then there was the quiet of the woods.
Which were not quiet at all. They were deafeningly loud.
Her entire family was gone, and they wouldn’t have wanted their brilliant daughter braving radiation to pick through garbage for their corpses.
Not pragmatic Mom and Dad. He worked for NASA; she was a brain surgeon.
And this was the last song Eugenia heard when almost everyone who mattered to her was obliterated in radioactive ash. The song—had the world not shaken with such force that they were knocked apart—she suspected Li Wei intended to propose to her once they’d caught their breaths and shared a long kiss.
She’d seen the ring in his pack. The simple band and inset diamonds—exactly to her taste. Something she could wear under surgical gloves. He knew her so well, treated her with respect.
Was willing to move against his family’s hesitations despite the fact that she was not Chinese.
Eugenia was ecstatic to accept. All of their future planned out after graduation. He’d run a family practice. She’d further her education until ready to specialize in pediatric surgery.