first date.
***
“T aylor, what's going on man?” Stuffing my phone into my pocket, I leaned in and gave him a stiff slap on the back.
“Not much, same old. So, you got another one for me tonight?” Taylor asked, slicking his hair back. The collared button-down shirt hugged his thin frame, khaki pants hanging loosely over his brown dress shoes.
“You know I do. Now look, this one is a little different than the ones I usually bring you. So pay close attention.”
“Layne,” he said, holding his arms out. “You know I always do.”
“Yeah, but not that way. There's something about this one I haven't figured out. She'll be here in a few minutes, her name is Kinsley. I'll bring her in like usual, and send her your way.” Taylor nodded his head, and walked into Duffy's.
The two of us had a system. Taylor would find a nice booth tucked in the back if he could. I would take my client, give her some helpful hints, and lead her to the table.
I always expected a little resistance on the first date scenario, but by the end of the night, my ladies usually settled their nerves enough to have normal conversation.
If they didn't, the date ended in less than two hours, and Taylor went home empty handed. Now, I'm not saying all of my clients typically went home with Taylor, but there were a few.
Which in some cases was a good thing, but not always.
I hated being left to clean up the regretful sorrow of a one night stand they didn't expect, and didn't know how to react to. Taylor was good at doing the dip and slip, leaving without a sound and no number to reach him at.
But that was the perils of dating sometimes. Not all guys are good guys, and not all guys are looking for love. My clients needed to realize that so they could be more on their toes, and by the time I brought them the next potential match; the true match, and not my friend; things went a lot smoother.
“Hi.” The soft delicate voice floated up from behind me.
Turning around, my mouth dropped to my chest. Kinsley was standing with her legs crossed, tucking a small clutch in her hands. Her bangs were pulled back and bumped up with bobby pins, the loose strands draped her bare shoulders.
Wow, just wow. My chest tightened as I tried to breathe, lungs straining to inhale.
She looked amazing, incredible, completely enjoyable in every way.
Looking her up and down, I took in her form. A tight pink dress fitted her curves, dipping in at her ribs, and flowing out over her thighs. Her legs were bare, and shined with a hint of glossy lotion.
A part of my brain that was all man, pure feral man, wanted to run a hand up her thigh, inhale the scent coating her legs and let it engulf my senses.
Cool down, Layne. She's not here for you.
What the hell is coming over me?
“Hello, Beautiful, glad you could make it.” Softly, I pushed my fingers out and took the chance to brush her skin. She felt cool in the night breeze, a shimmer of goosebumps cascaded up her flesh with my touch.
“Thanks to you I made it,” she said with a smile. “Gina practically shoved me out the door when she got there, telling me to hurry up so I wouldn't be late. I heard that before from her, the same night I met you.” Veering her stare, she brought herself closer. “So what is it that I could have been late for?”
The scent of her hair wafted up as the wind blew gently around us. A sweet mix of cocoa butter and lavender hijacked my senses. My fingers tingled by my side, itching to reach up around her nape and coil into her hair.
Fuck! What the hell am I thinking?
You're being paid, you can't think this way.
“Okay, well this is probably going to shock you, but don't be pissed. This is how I do things, and trust me, it works.”
“What is it? What am I doing here?” Kinsley's leg kicked out to the side, drawing my eyes back down briefly.
There goes her hand and hip again. God I love that tick. It wasn't so much that it was a loud statement, or a sexual innuendo by any
***
“T aylor, what's going on man?” Stuffing my phone into my pocket, I leaned in and gave him a stiff slap on the back.
“Not much, same old. So, you got another one for me tonight?” Taylor asked, slicking his hair back. The collared button-down shirt hugged his thin frame, khaki pants hanging loosely over his brown dress shoes.
“You know I do. Now look, this one is a little different than the ones I usually bring you. So pay close attention.”
“Layne,” he said, holding his arms out. “You know I always do.”
“Yeah, but not that way. There's something about this one I haven't figured out. She'll be here in a few minutes, her name is Kinsley. I'll bring her in like usual, and send her your way.” Taylor nodded his head, and walked into Duffy's.
The two of us had a system. Taylor would find a nice booth tucked in the back if he could. I would take my client, give her some helpful hints, and lead her to the table.
I always expected a little resistance on the first date scenario, but by the end of the night, my ladies usually settled their nerves enough to have normal conversation.
If they didn't, the date ended in less than two hours, and Taylor went home empty handed. Now, I'm not saying all of my clients typically went home with Taylor, but there were a few.
Which in some cases was a good thing, but not always.
I hated being left to clean up the regretful sorrow of a one night stand they didn't expect, and didn't know how to react to. Taylor was good at doing the dip and slip, leaving without a sound and no number to reach him at.
But that was the perils of dating sometimes. Not all guys are good guys, and not all guys are looking for love. My clients needed to realize that so they could be more on their toes, and by the time I brought them the next potential match; the true match, and not my friend; things went a lot smoother.
“Hi.” The soft delicate voice floated up from behind me.
Turning around, my mouth dropped to my chest. Kinsley was standing with her legs crossed, tucking a small clutch in her hands. Her bangs were pulled back and bumped up with bobby pins, the loose strands draped her bare shoulders.
Wow, just wow. My chest tightened as I tried to breathe, lungs straining to inhale.
She looked amazing, incredible, completely enjoyable in every way.
Looking her up and down, I took in her form. A tight pink dress fitted her curves, dipping in at her ribs, and flowing out over her thighs. Her legs were bare, and shined with a hint of glossy lotion.
A part of my brain that was all man, pure feral man, wanted to run a hand up her thigh, inhale the scent coating her legs and let it engulf my senses.
Cool down, Layne. She's not here for you.
What the hell is coming over me?
“Hello, Beautiful, glad you could make it.” Softly, I pushed my fingers out and took the chance to brush her skin. She felt cool in the night breeze, a shimmer of goosebumps cascaded up her flesh with my touch.
“Thanks to you I made it,” she said with a smile. “Gina practically shoved me out the door when she got there, telling me to hurry up so I wouldn't be late. I heard that before from her, the same night I met you.” Veering her stare, she brought herself closer. “So what is it that I could have been late for?”
The scent of her hair wafted up as the wind blew gently around us. A sweet mix of cocoa butter and lavender hijacked my senses. My fingers tingled by my side, itching to reach up around her nape and coil into her hair.
Fuck! What the hell am I thinking?
You're being paid, you can't think this way.
“Okay, well this is probably going to shock you, but don't be pissed. This is how I do things, and trust me, it works.”
“What is it? What am I doing here?” Kinsley's leg kicked out to the side, drawing my eyes back down briefly.
There goes her hand and hip again. God I love that tick. It wasn't so much that it was a loud statement, or a sexual innuendo by any
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