Page 23 of Caught A Vibe

“Better shot at what?”

“Getting some one-on-one time with the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Good one.” I’m glad he can’t see me blush.

“It’s not a line. The other night was fucking transcendent.”

Okay. Maybe he’s good with the words after all. “Mmm, agreed. It was amazing.”

“Glad to hear you say that.”

“Why’s that?”

“Sleeping with the engineer of revolutionary sex toys is intimidating. I worried about how I measured up.”

“Listen, a guy who takes direction is worth his weight in silicone. I had a great time.”

“So did I. I wish you weren’t so far away.”

“You make it sound like you’d like to see more of me.” I am probing shamelessly, but I don’t care.

“I’d like to see all of you, anytime you want to show me.” His voice projects his comical leering into my mind’s eye, and we laugh at the same time and the tension eases. “Honestly, I don’t meet many smart, sexy women in person, given how much time I spend behind a screen. So yeah, when I meet a gorgeous woman who’ll fuck me senseless and is brilliant enough to design prototypes and run her own company, I’m bummed you live six hours away.”

“Six? Lead foot. That drive takes seven, minimum.”

“What is your pit stop?”

“Harris…”

“…Ranch.” He finishes my sentence. “The brisket?”

“Of course! It’s the only thing that makes that god-awful stretch of the I-5 worth it.”

“I call ahead and grab it to go.”

“That’s how you hit six.” I deliberately turn the conversation to drive times, because I do not know how to respond to a man who finds my body and my brain equal turn-ons.

“Favorite meal in LA?” he asks, keeping the conversation rolling.

“The ramen place around the corner. This thing they do with deep-fried brussels sprouts is amazing. Yours?”

“In LA? Don’t laugh. Shake Shack.”

I settle farther into my pillow, and Callie yowls her displeasure at losing real estate.

“Was that a cat?”

“That or a demon spawn who has infiltrated my apartment and thinks the entire bed is hers to control.”

“Didn’t peg you as a cat person.”

“Haven’t pegged you yet at all.” The sex joke slips out before I can catch it. He chuckles and I try to get us back to casual-friendly-professional-not-horny territory. We skipped all this small talk in Las Vegas. I’m not complaining, but I am enjoying this banter more than I thought I would. Maybe we just need to be in different cities to keep our hands to ourselves long enough to chat. Our chemistry has a way of derailing a conversation. “And in San Francisco? Favorite eats?”

“Broken Record. I can walk there, and everything on the menu is great.”

“Maybe someday you can take me there. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“It’s a date.”

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