Page 8 of The Art of Deception

“Back so soon? Did you leave something behind?” I ask.

His lips turn up, the whites of his teeth dazzling me like a deer in the damn headlights. “No, just didn’t want to leave it so long between visits.”

I’m a little shocked. My heart races as I place the broom behind the counter and start walking toward my station, but hereaches out, grabbing my arm and halting me. A shockwave runs right up my arm as I gaze into his gorgeous eyes.

He’s haunted, but it suits him.

“I’m not here for a session today, Tomi.”

I’m confused as I slowly pull my arm from his grip. “Then why are you here?”

“To take you to lunch.”

I scoff, my mouth turning upward coyly. “That’s pretty damn presumptuous of you, isn’t it? I mean… I may have already eaten, I might be busy, I could have serious allergies.”

“Do you?” he asks.

I cock my brow. “Do I what?”

He chuckles. “Have allergies?”

I roll my eyes. “No, but that’s not the point here, wise guy. The point is—”

“Have lunch with me?” This time, it’s more of a question than a statement. I can’t help but melt a little at the uncertainty in his eyes.

Everyone’s watching and waiting for me to answer like the nosey fuckers they are as I gnaw on my bottom lip. “What’s in it for me?”

He shrugs. “Free tacos?”

I giggle. “Well, why didn’t you lead with that? Show me the way.” I swipe out my hand, gesturing for him to lead. I dip my head at Hogtie to take charge while I’m gone. He winks at me as I grab my bag, swinging it across my body, my red heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Butterflies swarm through my stomach while heading for the door. I know everyone’s watching me leave with Xander, but as we walk outside, all thoughts of that vanish as he leads me straight over to an impressive motorcycle. I suspect a Harley, but I can’t be sure. I don’t know much about these things, but damn, it makes my breath seize in my throat.

“How the hell am I supposed to ride this thing in these heels?”

He raises his brow. “It’s not like you need to do anything other than hold on.”

I gnaw on my bottom lip. “Oh… yeah.”

Xander hands me a helmet. A flash of giddy excitement flows through me as I pull it over my head awkwardly. He turns, watching me, then leans in, doing up the strap. The gesture is so sweet, it has me feeling all kinds of weird and wonderful things. Then he spins back to the bike without a helmet for himself. I have to admit the little bit of rebel in him has me weak at the goddamn knees as he slides onto the bike, then puts out his hand to help me. I take it and move into position behind him.

Inhaling a deep breath, I slide right into place feeling like this is the most natural position for me to be in. I fit perfectly, and though I don’t ride on the back of bikes often, this is the first time I’ve truly felt like I’ve belonged on one.

He turns over the engine, and the vibrations rattle through my body, making me squeal.

I’m going to lunch with Just Xander.

On his freaking bike.

Oh. My. God.

So much for my rule of never dating a client.

Yeah, that shit just went right out the window!

He veers out onto the street with force while I squeal again as he pulls on the throttle, and we’re off, zooming through the streets of San Francisco. My smile is wide the entire way as I grip onto his torso like my life depends on it, though, I’m honestly holding on tight because I want to feel him.

All of him.

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