maybe he was simply messing with her because he could. Either way, she had to be professional and remain in control.
Megan looked outside at the cars driving slowly past and wondered how many of their drivers came here to look for boys like Mouth. She wondered who they were, these men who paid him to suck them off. Not to mention the client who was apparently happy to incorporate him into his marital relations. Megan wondered whether any of the men she knew, co-workers or even friends, used prostitutes. Statistically, she figured it was likely.
Mouth took a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his hip pocket, shook one out and placed it between his lips, then offered her the pack.
She shook her head. She felt like having one more than ever. “I have a few more questions I’d like to go through and then it can be all for today if you want.”
“You’re paying. You call the shots.” He took a long, deep drag and exhaled in her direction.
Megan resisted the temptation to inhale the smoke. “Do you always practice safe sex?”
“Yeah. I wouldn’t swallow come.” He was doing it again, trying to make her uncomfortable then watching her for a shocked reaction.
She focused on her questions. “Even when clients offer more money for unsafe sex?”
“Yes.”
“Do they often?” It seemed absurdly dangerous to take that chance. “Yeah. But I won’t. I’m not stupid. I don’t want to catch anything.” “Do you get tested regularly?”
He nodded.
“Do you take any drugs?” Megan thought he seemed together in a way most of the other kids she’d seen weren’t. He wasn’t jittery or shaking with crystal meth cravings and didn’t have that dead-eyed, desperate look.
Mouth took another drag on the cigarette before tapping ashes into the saucer in front of him. “Sometimes. But I’m not a junkie, if that’s what you’re asking. I don’t use needles or do fucking crack.”
“You said you live in an abandoned building. If you don’t use money for rent or drugs, how do you spend it?”
“I want to get an apartment and need enough rent money to keep me inside this winter. I don’t plan to spend my life sucking cock and living on the street.” He looked away across the restaurant. The hard set of his mouth told her he was embarrassed to have admitted his goals.
“Do you keep in touch with your mom?” she asked to fulfill her own curiosity.
He was silent, removing the cigarette from his lips and grinding it out in the saucer. “She’s dead.”
“I’m sorry.” Megan murmured the obligatory response.
He absently spun the saucer around in a circle. “She wasn’t always like that… Wasted. When I was little, she hadn’t even really started drinking much yet.” He paused as if trying to decide how much to share about his early life. Finally he simply said, “Things were okay then.”
He seemed to be on the edge of actually revealing personal feelings. Megan waited quietly for him to continue.
He gave a little shrug, his eyes refocused, and he looked at Megan as if conscious of her presence again. He reached across the table, grabbed her hand and turned it to read the watch on her wrist.
She felt a second of shock at the sudden contact of his warm fingers. “Time’s up.” Abruptly, he slid out of the booth. Before she could say a word to thank him for the interview or ask to meet him again for more questions, he headed for the door.
Megan stared after him as she turned off the recorder.
Chapter Two
“…close my eyes and use my imagination to get off. It beats sucking cock.”
As she got ready for work the next morning, Megan listened to the previous evening’s interview. It was strange listening to Mouth’s voice in her own space, like bringing a piece of him home with her. She leaned in close to the mirror and carefully lined her left eye in black then pulled back to examine her face. Her makeup was conservative, not at all the extravagant application she wore on evenings out. The