Page 7 of Sexy Bad Escort

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Gettingoff the plane, I haul my suitcase behind me. It’s notmuch, but it will do fornow. I sold off my furniture, and the rest of my stuff is instorage until I find somewhere to live. Everything else of my NewYork life is wrapped up and finalized. Even said goodbye to thehot, tatted up photographer I’d been seeing. Such a shame. We’d hadsome fun times these past few weeks. I’ll miss his motorcycle more,though.

TheguyI was seated next toon the plane catches up with me. He’s carrying a heavy leathermotorcycle jacket and a duffel bag. I might have flirted with himon the trip. He did offer to take me around town on the back of hisbike. Tempting.

“Youforgot togive me yournumber,” he says.

“Did I?”I ask coyly.He has awicked swagger and full sleeve tats under that tight shirt. Thekind of guy who won’t want me to meet his mother or have mebarefoot and pregnant before our first date is over. Usually that’dmake him a solid ten for me, but after this week, I’m not feelingit. I hold out my hand for his phone. “Here, let me.”

He handsit over, and I type in the number to the Planned Parenthood clinic near the highschool I went to. Man looks like he could use as much contraceptionas he can get. Handing it back to him, I spot Danny and leave mynew friend behind.

“Hold on, letme call you so you have mine.”

Iturn around long enough to holdmy hand to my ear as though it’s a phone and mouth “call me” beforesprinting off. Maybe he’ll get a kick out of it when he rings thenumber. He should definitely take it as a compliment.

“Hey,sexy.” Danny grins. He slings an arm around my shoulder and steals my suitcase thesecond I’m within reach. “Saw you getting friendly with Butch backthere. You know you don’t have to try to make me jealous. This gamebetween us is fun, but all you have to do is ask and I’m allyours.”

“You’re not mytype.” I shrug off his arm.

“Sure I am.I’m everybody’s type.”

“Get hiton by a lot of men?” Weleave the terminal. His car is parked in the no parking lane, ofcourse. It’s hard to tell if he was trying to get it towed or heseriously doesn’t think about things like that.

“Actually, I do.It’s almost unfortunate I don’t swing both ways.”

“AndhereI thought all ittook was a heartbeat.”

Helaughsas he slings mysuitcase into the trunk. Full of heart and not at all cynical. Boy,it must be nice to not have to think past a night. Or worry aboutwhat some other person’s expectations of you will be. There’salways someone who thinks they know better than I do when it comesto what to do with my life. Even my own mother, but then she’s sohung up on babies... Christ, she is going to have so much fun whenI tell her I’m home for good. No more long-distance matchmaking.All straight up local boys now.God help me.

He opensthe door and waits for me to climb in before jogging around to hisown side. “So where areyou staying?”

“Ibooked a hotel room.” I pull the directions up on my phoneand show them to him.Far enough away from my family that they won’t immediately realizeI’m home for good. At least not until I find somewhere morepermanent to live.

“Don’t youusually stay with Paynt and Chloe? Need some space so you can bangButch?”

“Hank,and it’s none of your business if I want to bang him, as you soenjoy putting it.” I stare out the window as he pulls intotraffic.

“So youlikethem rascally. Butyou don’t like me?”

“It’snot that I don’t like you, Danny.” I exhale. “I have badtaste when it comes tomen. Like incredibly bad.”

“Wow.You’re slipping.”

“What?”

“Youjust admitted you like me. Youfind me cute, don’t you? I knew I could wear youdown.”

“Yeah,like a puppy.” I chuckle. It’s hard not to find him cute, though Iwill never admit thatI’ve developed a soft spot for his humor. Or that once or twiceI’ve actually considered taking him up on his offer to sleep withhim just to quash the slight buzz of attraction between us. Likenow as he shifts gear and his arm brushes against mine.

“It’sbecause I don’t have any tattoos, right? Or a motorcycle?” Heglances at me as hechanges lanes and smirks. “Because I promise I’ve got something farbetter.”

“We’refriends,” I say, ignoring the idea he’s trying to put in my head.I’ve been around longenough to know men like to exaggerate about everything. “Or family,considering my niece calls you uncle. We’re something. I don’tknow.”

“Business partners,” he offers.

“Thattoo.Which is anothergood reason why when I say no, I mean it. We have to work together.We need to make some ground rules right now or this isn’t going towork. Like this idea that you have of us hooking up can’t happen.It’d complicate things.”

“Hey.Hold on,” he says. “The only way sleeping together getscomplicated is if youhave expectations. I’m just suggesting we share one fantastic nightwith your V wrapped around my P. A once-in-a-lifetime,rootin’-tootin’ good time. There’s nothing complicated aboutjumping in the sack for a little fun before we get down tobusiness. Might even help you sell the service if you sample thewares first.”

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