Page 29 of Tease Me

“No, no, thank you for coming out at this time of night.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “It was my pleasure. When you see Memphis, can you tell her the knots didn’t hold?”

I shook my head. “I told you, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

He tapped his nose. “Yeah, right. I know that you know how to find her. But don’t worry; your secret’s safe with me.”

I screwed up my face. “Okay, whatever you say.” Shaking my head to imply he was a little crazy, I backed away from the desk. “So, I guess you’ll email your invoice to me.”

He waved his hand. “It’s okay, this one’s on me. Just remember you can call me anytime.”

I was about to argue, but seeing the glimmer in his eyes, I conceded defeat instead. “Okay. Thanks. Bye then.”

He bent over, and a jangle of metal indicated he’d picked up his tools again. “Bye. Don’t forget to call me.”

I watched him stride all the way out the door and waited a couple more minutes before I burst out laughing.

It was always the men that I least expected that surprised me the most. I flopped back onto my chair and spent the remainder of my shift flicking back through the entries in my diary and smiling at all the wonderful memories.

So many different men. So many unique experiences. Each one had shown me something new.

Thirty sexual encounters in thirty weeks. It was hard to comprehend that I’d succeeded this far. It was even harder to comprehend that it was still so enjoyable. Before this year, I hadn’t found sex enjoyable at all. Now, though, I couldn’t imagine going a week without it.

I laughed, and it echoed off the marbled lobby surfaces. Lucky me. . . I still had twenty-two more weeks in my challenge.

But what then? What would next year hold?

I didn’t even want to think about that.

Chapter Eight

The alarm sounded, and I rolled over to press the button to stop Lady Gaga blaring from the speakers. When silence returned, I flopped back onto my pillows to try and shake sleep from my brain.

Today was my birthday. I was one year off thirty, and for some reason, that triggered a starter gun in my brain.I was officially in a race to the finish line,althoughwhat the prize would be when I got there was still a mysteryto me.

I stood, opened the blinds, and blazing sunshine lit up my room. Squinting against the glare, I stepped onto the balcony and breathed in the crisp ocean air. It was another beautiful winter’s day on the Gold Coast, and despite being a Thursday, people were everywhere. I put my hands over my head and stretched from side to side as I inhaled through my nose andout through mymouth.

The serenity was a magic potion, andwith each breath,I felt more alive.

Wide awake now, I pondered the next couple of hours with my lunch date. It didn’t take rocket science to figure out how Clayton had learned it was my birthday. . . Lolita. As much as I had wanted my birthday to slip by unnoticed, she’d insisted on the opposite. Lolly had been beside herself with worry overnot being ableto celebrate with me today. I could just picture how furious she would have been with the doctor who chose today to do minor surgery on her son’sobviouslypainful ingrown toenail. I shuddered at the ugly memory of it.

Lolita had ‘fixed’ the problem of missing my birthday, though. She’d contacted Clayton, and no doubt pleaded with him to take me out for lunch, and as he would have had to take time off work to be with me, I feltquiteguilty about that.

As I stood on the balcony, though,and marveled at my magnificent vista, I grew grateful that Lolita had made plans for me.The weather was perfect for a long lunch with a nice guy.

Iwent backinside, pouredstrong,hot coffee into my new Friesian cow mug from Henry, and carried it to the bathroom. As I showered, I wondered where Clayton was taking me this time. Somewhere with a view, I hoped.

I blow-dried my hair and ran the heating wand over it to make soft curls. After a dab of makeup to eradicate my freckles, I darkened my lashes and blushed my cheeksa bit. For a dose of color, I touched some Bobbi Brown Retro Red lipstick to my lips. I rubbed them together and smiled. I was happy with my look. Hopefully, Clayton would behappy, too.

Of all the men I’d met this year, which one would Itrulylike to have my birthday lunch with? There were so many it was impossible to narrow my chosen man down to one.Asall mywonderfuloptions danced through my mind, I walked to my closet.

With my lippy as my inspiration, I pulled my red knee-high boots from the closet. Redboots for the birthday girl.Perfect choice.I plucked my black wrap dress from the hanger and put it on, weaving my arms in and wrapping it around my waist almost twice to tie it at my hip. The dress had short sleeves, and as it was a bit cool outside, I found a colorful woolen scarf with a cute little knotted fringe and curled it around my neck a few times to hang loosely.

I was tempted to put my trench coat over the top but settled on a black jacket with leather trimmings instead. I tugged on my boots and checked my reflection in the mirror.Thiswas good.Just enough to make me feel special, yet not so over the top that I’d stand out in a crowd.

Five minutes before Claytonwas due to pickme up, I grabbed a red Michael Kors tote from the top of my closet.It had a pair of gold zips that could be maneuvered by cute soft leather tassels. I tossed in my sunglasses,lippy, cash, and credit card, and with one last glance in the mirror, I headed downstairs.

Clayton waited for me at the hotel drop-off zone,andhewaved as soon as I walked out of the sliding glass doors.He looked stylish in dark blue slacks and a white business shirt rolled up at the cuffs. His shoes and belt were matching brown leather.Forthe first time with him, I felt like my outfit was suitable.

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