Page 7 of Maid in America

She strode toward him, nudging between his bent knees with her leg to get closer.

Something about being near her sent a prick of sweat to the back of Barrett’s neck, the embers between them stoking hotter every time they touched. He slid a flattened hand to her stomach, and she tensed.

“What’s your real name, Aphrodite?” he asked, stroking the tender skin there.

“I’ve already told you the only name you’re going to get.”

“Hmm,” Barrett pulled his hand away and brought the bitter amber liquid back to his lips. “So, Aphrodite, what do you do for work?”

“Do you really want to talk about work right now?” She stepped away, waltzing toward his leather couch and sitting in it like royalty on a throne.

“If I can guess what you do for a living, will you tell me?” Barrett stared for a moment, eyes locked on her body, overwhelmed by an insatiable urge to taste her.

She looked away. “Why not? I’ll grant you three guesses.”

“Thank you, sexy genie.”

She fought a smile.

“Guess one: you’re the hottest DJ Wyoming has ever seen. DJ Greek Goddess is your moniker.”

“Oooooh. So close!” She held her fingers a centimeter apart. “Two left.”

“Okay. You’re not a DJ. No, I was way off. You’re a Wyoming Cowboys cheerleader?”

She shook her head.

“No. Dumb guess. You’re way too hot for that. Although, there goes my fantasy about finally seducing a cheerleader.”

“Why would you want a cheerleader?”

“Because they can do the splits.”

“Who saidIcan’t?”

Barrett moaned involuntarily and stepped behind the raggedy recliner to hide his growing hard-on.

“Let’s see… rainbow hair… you’re artistic.”

“Hardly.”

“You’re a photographer, aren’t you? You shoot weddings and shit.”

“That your final answer?”

“Yep, final answer.”

“Wrong. I’m not a photographer…”

“Damn,” he muttered.

“But Iaminvolved in weddings, actually.”

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “I knew it.”

“I’m in sales. Like insanely overpriced dresses, constrictive suits, painful shoes, and monogrammed hankies for the sobbing helicopter moms.”

“The whole nine, huh?” He approached the couch and took another sip of liquor to bolster the courage to sit next to her before finally taking a seat.

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