Page 11 of Seduced By You

“Not true. The effort was thinking to ask Google in the first place. And it’s efficient, too. Why re-create the wheel when it’s already been done?”

“Hmm,” she grumbled. “Let’s see.” She ran her finger down the list. “Ah, here’s a nice cheesy one to start with. Famous person you have a crush on.”

You.

Sometimes it was easy to forget that Lee had spent most of her life in the glare of publicity. She had an Instagram following of over ten million, and even though she’d given up modeling more than nine months ago and hadn’t posted any new content since then, her following continued to grow. Newspapers and magazines still ran old pictures of her, and strangers occasionally stopped her in the street whenever she went out in public. At least at my club, she enjoyed some privacy. A large number of my clients were as famous, or more so, as she was. Not to mention that most of them were so wrapped up in their own egos that they barely gave her a second look.

“That’s easy. Margot Robbie.”

“Good choice. She’s gorgeous.”

Not as gorgeous as you. Not even close.

“What about you?”

She gave it some thought. “I don’t know. I met so many when I modeled, and honestly, the old saying to never meet your heroes holds more than a grain of truth. But if I had to pick one, I guess… Elvis.”

“Elvis? He’s dead.”

“So?” She tapped a perfect, round fingernail against the sheet of paper. “Show me where in the rules it states they have to have a pulse.”

A laugh spilled out of me. “I knew you were going to be trouble.”

“Okay, we need to speed this up. Otherwise, we’ll be here all day. Where did we first have sex?”

I almost choked on my own saliva. “Jesus, Lee. That’s a bit of a leap from celebrity crushes. No one is going to ask that.”

“Ya think? Let me tell you, these kinds of people are far more likely to ask that than which celebrity we’d like to bang. So… where did we do it? Who made the first move? Did you make me come, or were you selfish and blew your load before I’d warmed up?”

Fuck.

I fidgeted in my seat, my cock getting far too excited. Stupid thing didn’t realize we were playing a game. Or rather, it had a game of its own it’d like to play.

Wouldn’t we all?

When I was a kid back in Seattle, I’d taken drama classes as an outlet for an overactive imagination. I could do this. All I had to do was slip into a character that wasn’t me, that didn’t find her attractive, that was simply acting a part in order to help a friend.

I’d done it before.

I was used to pretending everything was peachy when the chaos inside my head ran riot. I knew how to put on a face, to make everyone around me think I was the carefree and untroubled surfer dude who ran a bunch of exclusive beach clubs.

These days, it was like wearing a second skin made of an impenetrable armor, and the only time I peeled off that second skin was when I found myself alone with nothing more than my personal thoughts.

“For our first time, I set up a picnic on the beach in this beautiful hidden cove, tucked away from prying eyes. I laid down a thick blanket so you’d be comfortable. We ate lobster rolls and caviar and drank Dom Pérignon. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in gold and yellow and orange, I kissed you and undressed you and made love to you. Afterward, I held you in my arms, and under the stars, we fell asleep. When we woke the next morning, bathed in warm sunlight, I made love to you all over again. And from that moment on, we both knew what we’d found. The other half of us.”

I fell silent, but when Lee didn’t respond, I arched a brow. “Good enough?”

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, and she licked her lips. “I—um… Yeah. That’s good enough.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was flustered. Distracted was far more likely.

“Great. Oh, and just so you know, you came. Several times.”

She blinked in quick succession. “Right. Okay, then. Good to know.” She rubbed her forehead. “Would you excuse me for a minute?” Palming the back of her neck, she added, “Bathroom.”

She jumped off the stool and disappeared toward the stairs that led to the second floor. Dash poked his head into the kitchen again, took one haughty look at me as if to say, “Are you still here?” and then slowly pivoted and went back the way he’d come.

Lee had done me a favor by leaving the room for a few minutes. It gave me time to collect myself. The character thing had failed miserably. Every word I’d spoken had come from my heart. I might not have rehearsed it, but what I’d described was how I’d imagined our first time together.

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