Page 29 of Tempt Me

“Really? And you’re happy with that?”

I frowned at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Because he knows your secret. Because you’ve already had him twice. Because he’s a hell of a lot older than you.”

I rolled her questions around my head as I nibbled on my lemon cake. “First, let’s get this out of the way. His age has nothing to do with it. He’s more fit than half the men I’ve been with. And with age comes experience.”

“True.” Lolly nodded as if knowing what I was talking about.

“Regarding him knowing my real identity, there was something . . . oh, I don’t know, it was . . . it was really special to be with a guy who knew my real name.”

She laughed. “Not many girls get to say that.”

I chuckled with her. “I guess not.”

“So you’ve had him twice—will you have him a third time?”

“If he keeps doing this stuff to me, I’d have him a hundred times a week.”

“Holy shit, babe.” She shifted back on her seat and thrust her arms in the air. “I want what she’s having.” She yelled so loud that this time, people did turn around to look at us.

We laughed together and finished off our drinks.

“So what’s next?” She cocked her head at me.

I held my palms out. “Number eighteen, of course.”

Number Eighteen introduced himself to me fourteen hours later. I’d been at work for just half an hour when Mr. Corben Willis swaggered to the reception counter with a heavy-looking duffle bag thrown over his shoulder. He was tall, tanned, and bulging with muscles like steel and a breath-catching gaze to match. Corben was nothing like the men I’d had so far this year, and that made him appeal to me.

“So, what’s brought you to the Gold Coast?” I wouldn’t normally enquire, but a few weeks ago, I’d decided that getting to know Memphis’s conquests a little better was a significant part of my year-long challenge too.

“I’m a security guard. I was here for the Anzac Day parade yesterday.”

“Oh right, that’s cool.”

He nodded and waited out my attention to the paperwork in silence.

“Here’s your room card.” I smiled at him. “You’re in room twenty-five on the fifth floor.”

“Thanks.” Maybe idle chitchat wasn’t his thing.

As he wandered to the elevator, I inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne and admired his sexy butt. I wanted to blow him a kiss and tell Corben I’d be seeing him soon.

That fleeting meeting with Corben was the only highlight of my night. Not that I was surprised; Tuesday nights were never busy. The only good thing about Tuesdays was that I had the next day off.

I whiled away the time doing the staff rosters and other tedious paperwork. Then, completely bored out of my brain, I googled Corben Willis.

Holy smokes!

Number Eighteen qualified for Mr. Universe in Sydney two years ago, and according to the pictures I was now drooling over, he totally deserved to be there. Corben was a beast. And Memphis was the perfect beauty to tame him. My insides purred at the prospect.

Three hours later, I started yawning. Twenty minutes after that, I began toying with the idea of putting the ‘back in five minutes’ sign on the counter and tackling Number Eighteen head-on.

The second the clock ticked over to one in the morning, I hit crazy mode. Without a single soul in sight and nobody to answer to, I left my post at reception and raced to my room on the fourth floor. With images of Corben’s pumped-up body whizzing through my over-excited brain, I transformed myself from mousey Plain Jane, who he’d met downstairs, to smoking-hot Memphis.

After seventeen weeks of doing this, applying the over-the-top makeup had become second nature, and I did it in record time.

I chose a flowing, backless, pink dress with a peek-a-boo cut-out showing just the right amount of cleavage. It was impossible to wear a bra, which was perfect because this meant one less piece of clothing to remove. Time was at a premium.

---