tip was added in to the total. He didn’t want to risk leaving black market cash on the table.
He pushed to his feet and snorted. Didn’t matter if he pissed off the waitress. It was unlikely he’d be back. He made good money, but it wasn’t good enough to indulge at places like this, at least not very often.
His blood thrummed as he walked briskly toward Kate’s office. Anticipation zipped through him. His cock surged against the front of his pants. He moved it so his zipper wasn’t rubbing against him and told it to calm down. It wouldn’t do to show up at her door with a raging hard-on. With her enhanced senses, she’d be sure to smell his arousal, never mind the front of his pants being tented like he was smuggling a boomerang.
He tried counting backward. Next he tried solving complex equations. Neither worked. His cock was insistent. It wanted Kate and it wanted her bad. He mentally rehearsed a slightly different story, using premature ejaculation as his presenting issue. That would let him sidestep having an erection on her front stoop. His heart thudded. His mouth was dry. He walked up her steps and rang the bell.
*
Kate smiled to herself. Her newest client was right on time. She appreciated punctuality. Kate padded to her front door, flipped the safety viewer, and froze. It was him. Holy Christ! Her nipples peaked. Her breathing quickened. She dreamed about him almost every night. Hot, graphic dreams of them doing just about everything two people could do to one another. Quite different from the quiet, controlled sex in her surrogate studio. She’d added twice-daily masturbation sessions since he’d sat at her table in the café.
Calm down. If he wanted to arrest me, I’d be gone by now.
I don’t know that. Not for sure, another voice posited dryly. It was the only dry thing about her. Liquid slicked her thighs.
“Oooooh,” her cat purred. “Looks like he found us. What are you waiting for? Get him in here.”
He rang the bell again. Kate felt trapped, but more than trapped, she was hotter than she’d been in years. She rubbed her thighs against one another and almost came. Her cat’s opinion aside, common sense told her to make a run for the back door. It would take her down an interior staircase and out into the alleyway. That part of her mind screamed no when her hand snaked out to disengage the locks.
The man smiled at her. Warm, dark eyes crinkled at the corners. He held out a hand. “I’m Devon Heartshorn. For a minute there, I was afraid I’d gotten the wrong date or time or address. Say—” his brows drew together, “—you’re the one I ran into the other day at the restaurant. What a coincidence.”
Like hell it is. The lie pinged sourly against her magic. Kate stood with her mouth hanging open. She finally shook his hand. Words were beyond her; they stuck in her throat.
Devon’s smile faded. “Um, look, if you’re not feeling well or something, maybe we could reschedule.”
Disgust with herself roiled through her. When had she turned into such an insipid coward? Her style had always been to meet things head on. She sucked in a steadying breath, followed by another. “No. I’m fine. I was just, uh, surprised. Come in. Follow me right over here. I have a terminal where you can enter your information.” She pointed to the corner desk.
Kate usually gave her new clients space, but she stood right behind Devon’s ramrod straight back once he settled in the chair and watched him enter data. “There.” She tapped the screen with the nail of her index finger. “It asked for your occupation. You left it blank. Why?” She folded her arms across her chest and waited.
“Didn’t it say at the top of the form I could leave things blank?”
Damn! “Yes, it did say that, but most men are proud of what they do. Part of your first visit is me deciding if I’ll accept you as a client.” She hurried on. “A lot of men think visiting me is like hiring a prostitute. It’s
He pushed to his feet and snorted. Didn’t matter if he pissed off the waitress. It was unlikely he’d be back. He made good money, but it wasn’t good enough to indulge at places like this, at least not very often.
His blood thrummed as he walked briskly toward Kate’s office. Anticipation zipped through him. His cock surged against the front of his pants. He moved it so his zipper wasn’t rubbing against him and told it to calm down. It wouldn’t do to show up at her door with a raging hard-on. With her enhanced senses, she’d be sure to smell his arousal, never mind the front of his pants being tented like he was smuggling a boomerang.
He tried counting backward. Next he tried solving complex equations. Neither worked. His cock was insistent. It wanted Kate and it wanted her bad. He mentally rehearsed a slightly different story, using premature ejaculation as his presenting issue. That would let him sidestep having an erection on her front stoop. His heart thudded. His mouth was dry. He walked up her steps and rang the bell.
*
Kate smiled to herself. Her newest client was right on time. She appreciated punctuality. Kate padded to her front door, flipped the safety viewer, and froze. It was him. Holy Christ! Her nipples peaked. Her breathing quickened. She dreamed about him almost every night. Hot, graphic dreams of them doing just about everything two people could do to one another. Quite different from the quiet, controlled sex in her surrogate studio. She’d added twice-daily masturbation sessions since he’d sat at her table in the café.
Calm down. If he wanted to arrest me, I’d be gone by now.
I don’t know that. Not for sure, another voice posited dryly. It was the only dry thing about her. Liquid slicked her thighs.
“Oooooh,” her cat purred. “Looks like he found us. What are you waiting for? Get him in here.”
He rang the bell again. Kate felt trapped, but more than trapped, she was hotter than she’d been in years. She rubbed her thighs against one another and almost came. Her cat’s opinion aside, common sense told her to make a run for the back door. It would take her down an interior staircase and out into the alleyway. That part of her mind screamed no when her hand snaked out to disengage the locks.
The man smiled at her. Warm, dark eyes crinkled at the corners. He held out a hand. “I’m Devon Heartshorn. For a minute there, I was afraid I’d gotten the wrong date or time or address. Say—” his brows drew together, “—you’re the one I ran into the other day at the restaurant. What a coincidence.”
Like hell it is. The lie pinged sourly against her magic. Kate stood with her mouth hanging open. She finally shook his hand. Words were beyond her; they stuck in her throat.
Devon’s smile faded. “Um, look, if you’re not feeling well or something, maybe we could reschedule.”
Disgust with herself roiled through her. When had she turned into such an insipid coward? Her style had always been to meet things head on. She sucked in a steadying breath, followed by another. “No. I’m fine. I was just, uh, surprised. Come in. Follow me right over here. I have a terminal where you can enter your information.” She pointed to the corner desk.
Kate usually gave her new clients space, but she stood right behind Devon’s ramrod straight back once he settled in the chair and watched him enter data. “There.” She tapped the screen with the nail of her index finger. “It asked for your occupation. You left it blank. Why?” She folded her arms across her chest and waited.
“Didn’t it say at the top of the form I could leave things blank?”
Damn! “Yes, it did say that, but most men are proud of what they do. Part of your first visit is me deciding if I’ll accept you as a client.” She hurried on. “A lot of men think visiting me is like hiring a prostitute. It’s
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