by Jodi Redford
“If you’re worried what Jane will think, trust me, I have no plan to tell her about any of this.”
She returned her stare to him. “Does she know what you do for a living?”
He grunted. “No. That info would go over like a bag of bricks with my sis. She has a hard enough time with my other side job.”
Her brow furrowed. “Other side job?”
So apparently Jane hadn’t spilled the beans to any of her friends. Or at least not to Marissa. Not that he was necessarily surprised, given how his sis viewed his decision to put off going back to school to get his MFA. Not much he could do about that until he got a decent chunk taken out of his already sky-high student loan.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. This was another conversation he’d never anticipated occurring. Might as well get it all out in the open though. Shit, if the escort thing hadn’t scared her off by now his other gig likely wouldn’t be the final straw breaking the camel’s back. He hoped. “I dance for an all-male revue.”
She double blinked. “You’re a stripper?”
“Not full time, but...yeah.”
“Huh. No wonder you’re in such amazing shape.” Her scrutiny drifted to his chest before quickly flicking back upward to his chin as if she were deeply mortified at getting caught red-handed checking him out. Considering the amount of women who visually molested him on a daily basis—even with his clothes on—her reaction was adorably goofy.
He bit back a grin. “I’m glad you noticed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You can stop pretending that you don’t know your body is the Eighth freakin’ Wonder of the World.”
He chuckled. “Not that I don’t appreciate the flattery—especially coming from you—but that’s a pretty hefty claim to make without seeing all I have to offer.”
Her eyes widened again. Oh yeah. She’d definitely picked up on the underlying invitation he’d snuck in there. He deliberately dropped his gaze to her mouth. “If you want a demonstration before actually buying the goods—”
“ Trig. ” Her coloring rivaled the hat she’d tucked in her lap.
His face physically hurt from grinning so hard. “I was only going to suggest that you should come watch me at Sinners Friday night.”
“Oh.” She shifted restlessly in her seat. “I’m having dinner with my mom that night.”
It was a good bet that was a lie, judging from the way she stumbled over her words and immediately averted her gaze. “Then I guess you’ll have to take me sight unseen.” He brushed his thumb along the outside of hers. “Unless you’d prefer a private dance back at your place.”
She squirmed on the bench again. “Is that something you regularly offer your clients?”
“No, though sometimes they ask. Most of the women aren’t looking for anything sexual, believe it or not.”
“H—have you ever slept with any of them?” A rosy flush crawled upward along her neck. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. It’s really none of my business.”
“No, you deserve to know, and I don’t mind disclosing the information.” He took a deep breath and expelled it slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was scare Marissa off, but he also believed in being one hundred percent honest when it came to his sexual history. “I’ve never accepted money to have sex with a woman. What they pay me is strictly for what’s on the agreement form. But a couple of times there have been mutual attractions that led to stuff happening after I got off the clock.”
He continued tracing her finger, following the curve down to the base of her thumb. He’d never found the simple act of holding a woman’s hand to be this intimate and erotic. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have the same response if it wasn’t Marissa. Which just went to show the effect she had on him. How fucking mind blowing would it be having his cock buried deep inside her, feeling her hot and liquid around him while her nails raked his back? He lifted her hand and bit the tip of her finger, scraping it lightly with his teeth.
Her lips parted on a breathy exhale. The sound wrapped around his cock and squeezed. He released her finger but kept caressing her hand. “Invite me back to your place, Rissa.”
Yes, he was pushing her. Hard and fast. It might very well backfire on him and she’d run out of the shop in the next two seconds. But he’d never been one to back away from going after what he wanted. And what he wanted was Marissa—naked, gasping, and coming her brains out underneath him.
Frisky Business
Copyright © Jodi Redford
T he best way to get over a man? Get your kink on with another. And Jane Campbell knows the perfect escort agency to get the job done.
As the owner of Hunks for Hire, Jack is used to the raunchy requests that land in his inbox. Bondage and blindfolds? Par for the course. But Jane’s email whispers a wicked enticement. A sane man would delete the message. Or send his best escort to the date armed with a steel cup. Only problem? The thought of Jane naked and bound beneath any guy but him is like a knife in Jack’s gut.
He doesn’t do commitments. And he sure as hell doesn’t do love and Happily Ever Afters. He was a fool before in that regard. Never again. But he can indulge in a taste. Then he’ll walk away from Jane. For good.
But eating forbidden fruit has its addictive consequences, and two stubbornly anti-love sinners are about to take the biggest fall of them all.
Warning: This book contains an irredeemable bad girl, an ex-gigolo who can give the Kama Sutra some pointers, and a sweet, dirty, and thoroughly complicated love story long overdue.
