Page 34 of Mr. Scandalous

“Yes.”

“Most of my customers are old and flabby. This is a pleasant change of pace.” She got to her feet and moved across the room toward him.

Alec’s heart wentthumpa-thumpa-thumpawith each undulation of her hips.

“You don’t look like the type of guy who has to pay for sex.”

“I want it anonymous,” he said. “Illicit and illegal.”

“Then you’ve come to the right place.” She stopped just inches from his face. In an impulsive move, she lifted her mouth to his chin and bit him. Not hard, but not so soft, either.

And then she poked him lightly in the chest with a fingernail and raked those fingers over his naked muscles.

Alec muffled a groan. His erection burgeoned and his knees weakened.

Chill out. Calm down, man, or you won’t last five seconds.

“How’d you get this?” She purred, following the curve of an old crescent-shaped scar two inches to the right of his nipple.

“Climbing 2K.”

“For real? You climbed 2K?”

“I didn’t make it to the top.”

“Stopped prematurely, didja?”

“The injury...” His eyes locked with hers.

“And this one?” She ran her fingernail over the small but deep jagged scar dug into his left bicep.

“Motocross.”

“Did you win?”

He shook his head. “Didn’t finish.”

“Hmm,” she said. “I see a pattern developing here. Do you have problems finishing what you start, John?”

He yanked her into his arms. “Those were just my failures. Wait until you hear about my successes. You should have seen me laying pipe on the North shore of Oahu last year.”

“Ooh, laying pipe. I like the sound of that one. But one Benjamin doesn’t buy that kind of time.” She patted the hundred-dollar bill nestled between her breasts. “Let’s stop talking and get down to business.”

God, he loved this game. She was simply amazing. And then, before he knew what she was planning, her hands were at his belt, undoing the buckle.

He hissed in his breath as she pulled the belt through the loops with a leathery slither and aggressively two-stepped him backward toward the bed. She splayed a palm against the center of his chest and butt-planted him onto the bedspread.

His mouth was like wet carpet, his stomach a bowling ball. He felt exactly the same way he had the time he and Randy had base-jumped off the hard granite cliff of Kjerag, Norway, with a stinging cold breeze in his face, a rig on his back and the knowledge that very shortly he’d be leaping off the edge of a very large abyss.

He was committed.

Eden climbed over him, straddling his body. She was breathing as hard and fast as he, her nimble fingers working the zipper of his pants, assiduously trying to free his erection.

“Eden,” he moaned.

“Not Eden,” she said sharply. “Lola.”

“Lola,” he whispered, as she shucked both his pants and his briefs over his hips in one fluid movement and flung them to the floor. “Lola.”

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