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Summary
Angels fucking wept and Stiles got nervous.
The only reason a guy who looked like this and drove a car like this would be picking up a scrawny underage hooker was because he wanted to do to Stiles the sorts of things you couldn't ask a girlfriend or boyfriend for, or even a stranger in a bar. Nasty-bad wrong things. Things that only money handed over could make better, silence bought and paid for.
Or maybe a dead hooker in a ditch who couldn't talk, no need to pay for the silence.
But Stiles had his own methods for making sure that didn't happen.
Stiles is a vampire. Derek's still the Alpha. And there's knotting.