Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tucker wasn’t an old man, far from it, and judging by his response to her last night, and in his bedroom a moment ago, he wanted to toy with her more than touch her.
Already? God, she was kicking herself. Hell, the first time she spoke to him was meant to seduce and he basically laughed in her face.
Okay he didn’t, but it felt like it.
Maybe she should go home and be with her dad. She could make up the money somehow and…
A coffee appeared in front of her face and she looked up to the man who gave it to her. His smile seemed genuine, but she still wanted to run away and never come back. It was tempting.
Instead, she took it in hand and looked back out the window. “Why’d you hire me if you didn’t want sex?”
He took a seat in a matching chair, the one facing her of course, and relaxed into it. “Is that the only reason you get hired?”
“Well, no.” She didn’t want to talk about other dates on this one, especially not about crusty old men while he, who looked sexy as hell in his thirst trap sweatpants, watched her like he did. Like she wasn’t there because she was getting paid. “But it seems to always be a running theme. Especially around the holidays. I guess they’re desperate for affection, lonelier.” She watched him as he watched her, wondering which of those he was. Surely not desperate.
He leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs and his mug in hand. It held his deep brown gaze and she could breathe for a moment. “I didn’t want to spend Christmas alone.”
Don’t fucking play me. I play the games, not my dates.
It was better to figure out what was required of her and not waste anyone’s time. She cocked a brow and took a sip of coffee. Holy shit it was bad. She was proud of herself for not wincing at the bitter taste. No amount of peppermint creamer could save that atrocity.
“What do you want from me, then?”
“Don’t know. I haven’t figured it out yet.”
Quiet. Calculate your next move. “You hired an escort to just,” she looked around the cabin, “lounge around?”
“I guess so.” He gave her a smile and sat back, sipping his awful coffee and wincing.
The slight drawl of his voice sent heat to her thighs, and she was suddenly pissed at the situation. It would be her fucking luck to get a date that was young and attractive, but didn’t want to have sex with her.
Her father always told her, if it wasn’t for bad luck, she’d have no luck at all. Fuck was he right.
She tore her gaze from the window and studied him. “What do you want to do?”
Tucker stood and grabbed the mug from her hands without a word and strode off to the kitchen. “First, you’re gonna take me to get a cup of coffee that doesn’t taste like asshole.”
She hid her smile in the sleeve of her sweater.
“I’m guessin’ you know a place?”
Looking over her shoulder, she nodded silently.
“Good. I’ll call Duncan and put somethin’ on. Then, we can go.”
“Wait!” She spun in the chair and looked him up and down.
God, he was beautiful. Just the right amount of body hair to make him manly but cut in a natural strength kind of way that had her wanting to lick every inch of him.
She’d be a fool to leave and not at least try and seduce him. It was Christmas after all. She couldn’t afford a gift, but orgasms were free to both parties. “Keep the sweats on.”
He flashed his teeth and shook his head before disappearing into his bedroom. “I think we’re gonna get along fine.”
* * *
“So, are you gonna tell me your real name?”
Evin kept her eyes out her window and managed to hide her coy smile. “Of course. Right when you tell me the real reason you hired an escort for the entire weekend, with no intention of defiling her.”
Please defile me.
It was torture to find a man who looked that incredible and not get anything out of it but money. The money was nice, but at what cost? He was one hundred percent her type, a rarity in her line of work. Besides, that little crooked smile and the way he teased her with his eyes gave her more than hope that she could persuade him her way.
She may have been the hired whore in their pairing, but he was the one dressed like a slut in those gray sweats and tight, black thermal. It was all she could do not to climb over to his side of the car and defile him with more than just her eyes.
But she’d keep it classy for as long as she could.
“I already told you.”
“You told me something, but I don’t believe you for a second.” She snapped her eyes his way and tilted her head. “Fess up, Mr. Matthews. I know you’re not lonely.”
“Tell me your name first, because I refuse to call you Heaven.” He cocked his brow at her and stayed resolute, ignoring her dig at his name. It was annoying. He probably got off haggling deals with people. “I’ll figure it out, you know.”
“How?”
“You’ll slip up. Someone else will slip up.” He looked out his window and rubbed his lips with the back of his knuckles. “I’ll win somehow.”
Her gaze narrowed on the side of his head. “I bet you always win, don’t you?”
“Not always. But I will this time.”
“I’m not some dumb bimbo. I keep my name private for a reason.” She looked back out her window, the snow covered trees and white mountains. “Though, I’m sure you think I am.”
He was silent until Aspen came into view and Duncan drove them into the heart of the tourist packed city. The longer he waited to respond, the angrier she felt. He must have really thought she was just some stupid hooker, because why wouldn’t he? She was selling her body for money while her degree collected dust in a closet.
Maybe she was simply that, a thing collecting dust while life went on around her. At least she possessed her own moral code, had a reason for doing what she did. She wasn’t sleezy, nor did she like having sex with random men. But he didn’t know that. Still, it was the only thing that kept her going day in and day out.
When the car stopped, Evin opened her own door and grudgingly waited for Tucker to meet her on the sidewalk. The mood was gone, but he seemed happy as a lark.
“The Mug Shot?”
They both looked at the black and white striped building for a moment, but she walked right in without a word, not waiting for him to open the door for her. It wasn’t a date, she decided, so she didn’t need to pretend like it was.
The place was packed, but they managed to get their coffee without anyone approaching her. If she was lucky they’d make it out of there before anyone saw him with her. It wasn’t like everyone knew she was an escort, but a lot of them did, and a vast majority gave side glances and stare downs when she walked by.
He didn’t need that in his life.
Evin made for the exit, steamy cup of delicious, peppermint mocha in hand, but he cut her off. Her eyes darted around, looking for anyone who caught sight of them together.
“What’s wrong?” Concern laced his words, but she couldn’t see why he’d care. “Tell me.”
“I just don’t want you seen here with me.” She cleared her throat, her eyes dancing around the lounge. She was probably just imagining things, but forgot how people could be when a man was around her. It was like they knew, like they could sniff the putrid sex on her.
The logical side of her brain, the quiet side, told her it was all in her head, that it was only her that thought that.
“Are you embarrassed of me?” He smiled and she hated that she was forced to remain pissy at him for his lack of action earlier. His smile was contagious, but if he could drive a hard bargain, so could she.
“Quite the opposite.” She glanced around once more and found a few older women starting to bump shoulders and looking her way.
Usually, she could shake it off, but for some reason Tucker made her feel different, made the job feel different. “I just don’t want people to thi
nk less of you for being with me. We have our coffee. Let’s go back.”
“I want to sit with you and get to know you. We have a whole weekend to be at the cabin. You think I care what the people of Aspen, Colorado think about me?” He looked around the coffee shop, over her shoulder, and then back to her. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss over her knuckles. “I think they’re jealous.”
She furrowed her brows and tried to pretend like the gentle act in public didn’t start a fire in her. “Of me?”
“Of me.” He leaned in, and she held a gasp on her lips as he inched closer. “You’re beautiful, whatever your name is.” He smiled and she giggled at his attempt to defuse her anxiety. “My mom would say they have ugly hearts. They’re jealous I get to spend time with you while they suck the joy out of everything.” He flicked her nose with his and turned on his heel, opening the door. His head gestured her out into the snow. “Come on. Let’s see who else we can make jealous.”
With a smile, she shook her head and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk. It was Christmas Eve-Eve, and the city was alive.
“Oh, and by the way.” He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “I don’t for one second think you’re a dumb bimbo.”
Her stomach got butterflies for the first time in too long, and the feeling was foreign to her. She was used to the knots, but that was from stress. The new feeling was light, airy. Without another word, they stepped in time and took off down Main Street.
If people looked at them after that, she didn’t notice.
Chapter Six
The longer they walked the main strip, the longer her eyes gazed into the window displays, the more tempted he was to stop in one.
It wasn’t a foreign feeling, wanting to spend money on a woman, but they were usually girlfriends, a few failed fiancées along the way, not a stranger he met a few hours ago.
“How about this one?”
She snapped her head around, furrowed her brows, then looked to the shop beside them. It looked girly, what was the problem?
“What about it?”
He stepped toward the door and opened it, herding her reluctant body through the door in like a cat in a bathtub. Luckily, she didn’t have claws. Yet.
“Mr. Matth—sorry I mean Tucker, you don’t have to do that. I don’t need anything in here.” She gaped as she entered the shop. It was decorated for the season and looked like it belonged in a magazine.
He put on his best smile, the one all his exes slapped off his face when he eventually fucked up somehow, and walked in behind her so she couldn’t bolt. “I didn’t ask if you needed anything.”
When she snapped back around, he grabbed her arms and kept her from getting past him. “Calm down.”
“I feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.” She peered up at him, silently begging to leave. “I don’t belong in here.”
“That was a beautiful reference, a little close to home, but good job. Now,” he gently turned her around and nudged her farther in, “would you take a deep breath and chill out. It’s just a store.”
Just a store, his ass. He must have picked the poshest place on the strip. Even he felt weird being inside. Clothes weren’t his thing, and the only thing he knew about women’s clothing was how to take it off their bodies.
He cleared his throat and became painfully aware of the tightening scarf around his neck. The last thing he needed to do was think about undressing other women with her around.
She wasn’t his to touch. That wasn’t why they were there. He needed to tell her why he wanted her there, but for some stupid reason he let his dick decide the plans, and the little pant snake wanted to get to know her first.
“You okay?” She fingered through shirts that obviously weren’t her style, because she frowned at all of them, and glanced his way before dragging her feet to another rack. “Are you claustrophobic?”
“No, I’m not.” Just painfully turned on by you. No big deal. He trailed along behind her but kept his distance. “It’s just warm in here.”
“Yeah,” she looked around the shop, avoiding his gaze, “the heat is a bit high.”
Oh, good. It wasn’t just him. He was just about to suggest they leave and find another shop when her eyes went wide, and she took off across the store.
He followed, making sure he didn’t lose her in the racks of clothes, and stopped when she made it to the wall on the back end. She looked straight up at a mannequin wearing a red dress.
“Look at it.” Her arms went up in a puny attempt to reach it, her hands meagerly clasping for it. “It’s beautiful.”
Tucker shook his head and smiled. It was pretty, though it looked like all the other dresses he could see. But who was he to judge her desires?
A woman, in a stuck up black pant suit, appeared out of nowhere, looking her up and down. He didn’t know why that irked him so much, but it did.
A person wasn’t less because of their job, and if she wanted to compare pay stubs, he’d bet the woman he came in with would blow the pretentious bitch out of the water.
A rack of red garments caught his eye and he stepped around her, pulling one out. “Nope. We got it.” His eyes went back to the temptress herself. “You want this?”
She smiled like a kid in a candy store and blindly grasped at it. He cocked a brow and put it behind him. The woman walked away with a scowl and his little date was none the wiser, wouldn’t have to know someone judged her for her. “Ah, ah. Tell me your name first and I’ll give it to you.”
The whole thing was ridiculous. What was even more ridiculous was the fact that he had a last name, a relative age, and a gender, but no first name. Good thing there was only one family in Aspen with the last name Coates, or he would have been shit out of luck.
Her brows shot up and her jaw dropped. “Are you blackmailing me? At Christmas?”
“Oh,” he held out the dress in front of him and admired it, fueling her tiny rage, “wouldn’t this look beautiful for the Christmas party? Looks about your size too, but I’m no expert.”
“I knew it, you’re blackmailing me.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “It’s not even that pretty.” After all her posturing, she mumbled under her breath.
He cocked a brow and stepped closer, which he shouldn’t have done because then he wanted to touch her even more. “What was that?”
“I said my name’s Evin.”
“Isn’t that a boy’s name?” He goaded her to see if she’d squirm, but she held strong. Evin. It was short and sweet, held a charm to it. He didn’t hear that name attached to someone so feminine very often, if at all.
He liked it.
She rolled her eyes, but her attention came back to him with a smile that matched his own. “It’s my dad’s middle name. So, I guess.”
He teased her once more but gave in to her grasping hands willingly. “Nice to meet you, Evin.”
“Can I try it on?” Her eyes lit up and he couldn’t help but indulge her.
It was like she was an entirely different person than earlier that afternoon, or even in the coffee shop. Bubbly, energetic, childlike in the way she instantly responded to things, but mature when it came to her thinking and intellect. Two sides of the same coin.
He smiled, not able to contain it. “Of course, you can.”
She shrieked in a whisper, a thing he didn’t know was even possible, and ran off out of sight. He followed and found a plush chair just outside the changing room she disappeared into.
“Ma’am.” He called the pretentious women over, since she was hovering anyway. When she arrived, he gently knocked on the dressing room door.
“I’m naked in here, don’t you dare open it.”
The woman rolled her eyes and scoffed. He guessed she didn’t know escorts that well. It wasn’t all sex and kink. Or it didn’t have to be at least.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Liar, liar. “What size shoe do you wear, darlin’?”<
br />
“Oo, he pulled his accent out and everything.” She giggled and hummed for a second. “Eight and a half.”
“Eight in a half, you get that?” He looked at the pretentious woman again and smiled. “She needs a pair of shoes that go with that dress she’s trying on.” He raised his brows and gave her posh ass a once over. She wasn’t anything special, yet had a strong opinion about a woman she probably didn’t even know. Nasty heart. He narrowed his eyes. “You think you could do that?”
The woman’s jaw ticked, and she turned up her nose. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He inclined his head and sat down in the plush chair he realized was more for men than it was women. Checking his watch confirmed they were on schedule for that evening, so he sat back and let her take her time.
When she stepped out, she took his breath away.
“What do you think?”
The dress held her body just right, accentuating every delectable curve she covered up with that oversized sweater.
The curves weren’t new to him, he’d seen them last night in full, agonizing detail when they apparently belonged to someone else for the evening. But those curves, in that dress? Those were for him. And they belonged to him until Christmas morning.
Fuck. The blood rushed to his dick the moment she stepped out, and he leaned forward, trying to hide the raging boner in the gray sweats she made him wear.
It wasn’t the simple dress and beautiful shoes she walked out in that had his brain draining of blood and heading to more important parts of the body. It was the way she twirled. The way confidence poured out of her every time she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The way her smile brightened when she felt beautiful.
That’s what everyone hated about her. She was Evin. Unabashed and unapologetically, Evin.
“Well?” She stopped in the middle of three mirrors and eyed him, not herself. “Does it look as good as it did on the rack?”
He pushed back all the nasty things he wanted to do to her in that dress and nodded. “Better than the rack.”
Stocking Stuffers: A Five Story Christmas Anthology Page 31
