Page 17 of Buried Beneath Sin

He glowers at me out of the corner of his eye before quickening his steps. Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from taunting him, I instead adjust my gait to keep from tripping over my own prettily booted feet. I can't see most of his face, but it doesn't matter. He was good looking enough when we met up at that swanky bar a few hours ago. Sure, he's, like, thirty years older than me, putting him somewhere in his fifties, but age doesn't put me off. Not really. He’s tall, with wide shoulders, a barrel chest, and thick arms. This is a man who takes care of his physique. I like that.

A block and a half later, we make it to his car. He pulls out his keys and the lights flash as he unlocks the Bentley. I whistle as I slide into the passenger seat.

“Wow, this isnice.”I reach for the button to turn on the heated seats, ready to warm up, but my new friend slaps my hand away as he sits behind the wheel.

“Don't touch anything!” he snaps. “Don't adjust anything, don't even breathe too hard. My wife notices everything.”

I shrug. “Fine. I'll just sit here hardly breathing for you.”

With a disgusted sigh, my friend pulls out of his parking spot on the side of the road, and we head off.

“So where are we going?” I ask.

“I know a deserted street a few miles away. We can, ah, hang out there.” His hands tighten around the steering wheel, letting me know how nervous he is.

I smile. “Don't worry, I'm all about discretion, Barry.”

“Oh yeah? Then why were you waiting outside of my house?!” he demands. His voice is muffled, thanks to the strange way he’s wearing that stupid scarf. Does he normally wear it that highor is he being extra cautious this evening so no one can see his face? I think about asking, just to sate my curiosity, but then I reconsider. I don't care enough.

“I was just making sure you saw me,” I tell him with a coy smile and a one shoulder shrug.

“Well, I did.”

I beam at him, unfazed by his gruff demeanor. “See, it worked!”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, but his words are a little softer now and creases appear around his eyes, welldeepercreases, like he’s smiling. His shoulders sag and he lets out a sigh. “Sorry, I've only done this, like, twice before. It's still relatively new.”

Done what? Cheat on his wife? Or meet up with a guy? I'm betting on the latter given how stiff he'd been at the bar earlier and how it had taken me pulling out all the stops to lure him outside with me. He'd come eventually, and when we kissed, he'd been more than eager to deepen it and pull me closer. We only stopped when his friends came out looking for him. Then he acted like he didn't even know me. Which makes this meeting absolutely perfect.

I wave a dismissive hand. “It's fine. I get it.”

He’s an asshole that cheats on his wife and pretends he’s the perfect macho, heterosexual bro-dude that just happens to have more than a little money—what’s not to get?

“Have you, ah, done this much?” He risks glancing over at me before making a turn.

“A few times.” I shrug. “There's a bit of a thrill meeting up with a stranger, isn't there?”

It's one of my favorite things. Meeting strangers and seeing what they'll do. Each time is a new experience.

“I guess...” The way he says it tells me my friend isn't quite sure yet. I doubt by the end of our time together I'll be changing his mind on the matter.

He's quiet for the rest of the drive, which is completely fine. I don't really care what he has to say, or what he's feeling, or really anything about him. My gut twists with excitement though as the houses around us become more dilapidated until they eventually look abandoned. The cars on this side of Chicago aren't as nice and the people that linger on the streets appear drunk, rough, and unsavory. Good thing people judge others based on their looks. I’m sure my new friend thinks these people aren’t anyone to worry about. He’s probably not even too worried about me. And why would he? I look like a fucking model compared to some of these people we’re driving by. Shit, who am I kidding? I look like a model even next to other models. I’m hot and I know it. I’m sure my friend thinks that my attractiveness makes me safer than being with one of these people scurrying about.

Finally, we pull up in front of an overgrown lot. Trash litters the ground and there are pieces of what must have been a house that once sat here. Other than more trash and boarded up buildings, there's nothing and no one around. It's really quite the perfect spot.

My new friend parks but doesn't turn off the car, allowing the heat to keep us warm. He clears his throat. I look at him expectantly. He shoots me a nervous look before looking straight ahead again. A hint of red is climbing up over the edge of his scarf and is making its way up to his forehead. His hands tighten once more around the wheel before he lets out a heavy sigh and lets them drop into his lap.

“I, ah, do you want to... um, do this?” he asks as he finally gives me his full attention.

I don't answer right away, savoring how he squirms under my gaze as I allow it rake over his body.

“I don't know, doyou?” I push.

“Yeah, of course. That's why I'm here.” His quick response has me chuckling.

“Relax, Glen, I?—”

“It's Barry,” he corrects quickly.

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