Part 3 (2/2)

”I'm very attracted to you, so it won't be a burden to f.u.c.k you. Not by a long shot.”

She snorted in derision. ”Jeez, thanks...I think.”

”You get your stud, and in return you just have to pretend to date me. We both win.” Although as far as he was concerned, he won double. Getting to f.u.c.k her out of his system was the star of the deal; getting the other girls to back off was just a nice extra bonus.

”Pretty sure of your...abilities, aren't you?”

”Yes.” No need to beat around the bush. In bed he knew what he was doing. He was good at f.u.c.king, always had been. The rest? Gibberish to him. ”You can give me a test run if you want.”

This time she choked. Her eyes were frantic. ”But...but...I thought you didn't like me. You've been growling at me for the past month.” She was so cute when she babbled.

”Oh, I like you, all right. A lot.”

Too much, probably.

And as far as the scowling went, well, that had been plain self-preservation.

She let out a snort. ”You could have fooled me.”

”And you like me too. Unless, of course, you're in the habit of trying to lick men you dislike when you think they aren't looking.”

Her face flared as red as a traffic light.

Yes, she liked him. He'd felt her eyes on him many times, sizing him up. What he didn't understand was why she was being so difficult about the whole proposition.

”Still...” She fidgeted, and her gaze lowered. ”I can't jump into bed with you. I don't know the first thing about you.”

”Honey, what did you expect to know about the half-a.s.sed gigolo you'd get through an escort service?”

She shrugged. ”Not that I've thought about it, but I don't know. I guess they'd give me a brochure about him or something.”

He laughed at her. Not with her, at her. She puckered her lips, and for some reason, his stomach somersaulted, which was a f.u.c.king first for him. ”So come to dinner. You can ask me anything you want.”

She shook her head vigorously. ”I don't date.”

”Okay, then let's meet tomorrow in the Red Chicken. You go there every Friday, right? We can talk there, and it wouldn't be a date. I may be a morally rotten man wh.o.r.e, but I pick up my dates-fake or otherwise-from their places.”

She was freaking out, chewing her lower lip vigorously. And then the dead giveaway; she went for one of the lollipops on the crate, unwrapped it, and put it in her mouth.

He groaned inwardly. Man, that sweet, soft mouth on those suckers was a torture he'd been enduring for longer than he cared to count.

”There it goes, your oral fixation again,” he said, taking the lollipop from her. ”I can help with that too.”

She was already shaking her head, but he cupped her neck and brought her to him, covering her lips with his in a flash, digging his hand into her silky-smooth hair, holding her firmly against him.

He'd half expected a fight, but it didn't happen. She went very still, her breath labored, and when he flicked his tongue over the seam of her lips, she opened for him, letting out a compliant moan he greedily swallowed. And he lost his frigging mind. Tasting her was a million times better than he'd imagined, and he'd imagined plenty. What he hadn't envisioned was this roaring need blasting through him, obliterating any rational thought in his head.

He gripped the corner of the crate hard, doing his best to keep his other hand away from her-from that soft skin, from that tempting body. If he reached for her, he was going to f.u.c.k her on the spot.

”You taste good,” he said as he managed to move away from her. ”Like vanilla and cherries.”

”Why did you kiss me?” she asked, still looking half-dazzled.

”Besides because I f.u.c.king felt like it?” he said, popping the lollipop in his mouth, trying not to sound half as desperate as he felt. ”You needed an incentive. Be in the Red Chicken tomorrow. I'll be waiting. We have business to discuss.”

”Cole asked you out, and you turned him down?” Holly asked Christy the next day on their way to the Red Chicken. ”Why on earth did you do that?”

Christy glared at Holly. How did she know about that? Was there no privacy in this town? She hadn't said a word to anyone, not a frigging word.

Holly just lifted her shoulders unapologetically. ”I saw Penny this morning. Shame on you for not telling us right away. Now answer me.”

Christy exhaled. ”He didn't ask me out, technically. He wants to sleep with me.”

Holly threw her an incredulous look. ”And the problem is...?”

She grimaced. ”He got the wrong idea about me.” Although who could blame the guy? She'd been the one up on that flowerpot claiming she was done with relations.h.i.+ps and wanted to get thoroughly f.u.c.ked.

”Why? Does he think you're a lesbian?”

”No,” she said, horrified. Why would he think that?

”Then he didn't get the wrong idea. Besides, who cares what he thinks as long as it gets you laid?”

She cared. She didn't want to care, but she did.

After their first conversation, she'd been p.i.s.sed. And humiliated and embarra.s.sed and hurt, but mostly p.i.s.sed. At herself for getting into that mess, and at him for being such a jerk and jumping the gun. The nerve of the guy! Continue this conversation at work? With all his men around? She'd have rather gotten hit by a freight train, thank you very much; it'd have been less damaging to her self-esteem.

But then he'd blindsided her with that s.e.x-for-dates proposition, and now she was as confused as h.e.l.l, which in her book was much worse than p.i.s.sed. p.i.s.sed had a focus, a direction. Confused was just plain stagnant.

The thing was, no matter how infuriated she'd been at him for jumping to conclusions about her, it was easier for her to believe he was an a.s.shole making fun of her than the possibility that he'd seriously consider having anything to do with her. That was just baffling. Mind-boggling. Out of an X-Files episode. Guys like him didn't go hiring themselves out for girls like her. That was a fact of life.

”What's the problem? You don't find the man attractive?” Holly interrupted her thoughts.

Duh. The mere sight of him made her wet. He talked, and she broke into goose b.u.mps, for crying out loud.

”It's just complicated,” she answered.

”Complicated how?” Holly turned her inquisitive eyes on her. ”What aren't you telling me?”

Christy considered the virtues of taking the Fifth for a second but decided against it and relayed to Holly all about the weird, impromptu man-wh.o.r.e job interview.

Holly's jaw dropped open. ”Wow! What are you waiting for, girl? Here's your chance to get properly laid.”

”Yes. No. c.r.a.p, I don't know.”

Regardless of her bold claims under the influence, she wasn't that liberated. h.e.l.l, she'd seen sixty-year-old grannies more at ease with their bodies and s.e.xuality than she was. Recreational s.e.x? Sure, in which alternate reality?

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