The Hookup Handbook

by Kendall Ryan

  Her words strike me right in the chest, and a heavy weight stays lodged there all during lunch.

  By the time I get back to the office, Sienna has already left for the day, her desk depressingly empty.

  Fuck. It figures that the one time I have something urgent to talk to her about is the same time she decides to take me up on the suggestion to slip out early on a Friday if the book is on track.

  Pulling my phone out of my back pocket, I open a new text message, start typing, and then stop.

  Am I really doing this?

  Sure, it wasn’t exactly appropriate when we said it was a one-time thing, but it was her idea, which made me feel like I wasn’t overstepping the boundaries of our work relationship. But now? Now it’s me asking to do it again, and part of me worries that I’m taking things too far.

  But then I remember how much things have changed already. How when we first met, I was so ready to dismiss her, to brush her off like an unqualified child. And she proved me wrong over and over, not just with her work ethic and her intelligence, but with her whip-smart mouth that constantly puts me in my place. She’s proven to be more mature than I thought she would be, and more capable, able to take everything I throw at her in stride.

  The more time I spend with Sienna, the more I want her. The chemical connection we have is far beyond a boss-employee relationship, even beyond the issue of her being my friend’s sister. I don’t know exactly what it is, and honestly, I’m too scared to think too hard about it, but I know one thing for sure.

  I want you.

  I hit SEND and set my phone on my desk, trying to stay busy as my mind keeps spinning with the realization. Within moments, the phone buzzes. I immediately pick it up, my heart drumming as I open the text.

  Tonight?

  After quickly checking the schedule to make sure Ryder won’t be around, I shoot off a reply, every fiber in my being aching to see her.

  Be here at 8.

  • • •

  A few hours later, Sienna is sitting across from me at my dining room table, trying her best to keep red wine from shooting out of her nose.

  “You’re fucking with me.” She snorts, holding her hand over her mouth, tears welling in the corners of her eyes.

  “Dead serious.”

  “How did I not know you wore a Superman costume every single day for two years of your life?”

  “Probably because that’s something I shouldn’t have told you,” I say, squinting at her over the rim of my glass. “But there’s just something about you that makes me want to tell the truth.”

  Sienna pauses, a soft smile spreading across her face. She sets her elbows on the table and leans forward, motioning for me to lean in. Our lips meet softly in a sweet kiss. She tastes like wine. I want to deepen our connection, but Sienna pulls back, still smiling at me.

  “Your mom has to have pictures of that somewhere,” she whispers, shaking her head, her eyes bright and mischievous.

  “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Who’s to say I haven’t already texted her? You took forever to finish the risotto.”

  “I think what you’re trying to say is, ‘Thank you, Case, for being so kind as to labor over this delicious meal for me.’”

  She smiles, climbing into my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck, and brings her mouth close to mine. The warmth of her in my arms makes my blood run hotter.

  “Thank you, Case,” she says, pressing her lips to mine, “for everything.” As her lips touch mine and her fingers move through my hair, a hungry ache forms deep in my gut.

  “Keep that up, and I’ll be ready for dessert soon.” I growl, swinging her leg over my lap and grabbing two handfuls of her behind. She giggles, arching her back so her breasts press into me.

  “Did you make dessert?” she asks coyly, cocking her head to the side.

  Such a goddamned tease.

  Pulling her blond curls to one side of her neck, I descend on her delicate skin, nipping and sucking until she begins to whimper and grind against me.

  From the first time we kissed, my need for her has only grown, and suddenly, I have no idea how I made it through the week without touching her. I want to kiss every inch of her, breathe in her feminine, floral scent. And do whatever it takes so she keeps making those noises—every moan, every whimper only makes me want to please her more.

  Suddenly, she pulls back, her wild eyes taking a moment to focus on my face.

  “What is it?” I ask, my mind hazy and reluctant to pull out of the moment.

  She holds my gaze, and for a second, I see something in her eyes I don’t think I’ve seen before. Fear. And seeing that in her, even if just a flicker, is enough to snap me out of my daze.

  She turns away, shaking her head and staring at the floor. “It’s nothing.”

  “Hold on a second, it’s not nothing. Where did you go?” I bring my face level with hers, my heart rate picking up speed.

  My mind starts cataloging what I did wrong. Did I pressure her to come here? Did I misread things between us? Is this not what she wanted after all?

  She stays silent, running her fingers through her hair.

  “Look, Sienna, I’m sorry if I misread things or made you feel like you had no choice but to come here. I thought . . . well, fuck, I don’t know if I thought as much as I felt, but if any part of you doesn’t want this, I hope you know we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

  Her hands drop from her face, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Do you really think I’m spineless? There’s no way in hell I’d be here if I didn’t want to be.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “For starters, you’re my boss, so that’s already such a freaking cliché. Not to mention my brother will shit a goddamned brick if he ever finds out about us. And, oh yeah, I know you haven’t been ‘in the game’ for a few weeks, but you’re still a professional escort, so it’s only a matter of time until you get bored with me and move on to someone else.”

  Stunned, I stare at her. Okay, not exactly what I was expecting.

  “Is that really what you’re worried about? That I could get bored with you?”

  She looks away again, shrugging and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s not like we’re exactly on equal footing.”

  “Did I do or say something to make you think I didn’t enjoy the last time?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Because I did. I really, really fucking did. You want to know the truth? You blew my mind. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. It’s been torture going this long without you. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you or pull you into my arms this week?”

  Sienna softens, her brows knitting together as she presses her mouth to mine.

  I hold her in my lap as we kiss, and as good as I normally am at reading women, I’ve got to admit, she’s confusing me. One minute we’re laughing, the next she’s pulling away, and now we’re kissing. I realize reading Sienna is different because she’s not a client. That’s all so practiced for me, but this is anything but. This is real, and messy, and confusing. And I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

  As eager as her sweet kisses are, I need to be sure she’s ready for this.

  “Angel?” I groan, putting a couple of inches between us.

  Sienna smiles softly at me. “Yeah?”

  “As good as this feels, I need to be sure it’s what you really want.”

  Her eyes lock onto mine and she nods. “Sometimes I think I shouldn’t, but yes. I want you, Case. I don’t even know what this is between us, but I want it. This. Us.”

  Without another word, I rise to my feet. She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to my bedroom, and her giggling as we stumble through the doorway is the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.

  “How are you so sexy and so cute at the same time?” I ask, throwing her down on the bed and falling on my knees in front of her.

  S
he laughs again, bouncing to the edge of the bed and parting her legs. I wrap my hands behind her knees and pull her to me, kissing my way up her inner thighs. Her laughter fades as I move closer to her center.

  Her little floral wrap dress has been teasing me all night, fluttering slightly open at her every move, taunting me with how easy it would be to slide it off her. And now that I have the chance, I don’t hesitate. Roughly pulling free the knot by her waist, I peel the silky fabric from her skin, groaning with need at what I find underneath: a lacy emerald-green bra with matching panties that perfectly complement her creamy skin.

  “Is this for me?”

  “Not sure who else it would be for, Superman.”

  “You’re going to pay for that,” I tease.

  As I press my mouth to the space between her legs, she squirms beneath me, but I move my lips over her, slowly pushing the lace to the side with my tongue. She gasps when I reach my destination, lapping at her center like my life depends on it—and in a way, it feels like it does. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly, so desperately before.

  In this moment, nothing matters except her pleasure. I get off when she comes almost as much as she does, although to be fair, I’ve done enough research on the female orgasm to know who’s really getting the short end of that stick.

  “Fuck, baby, you taste so good.”

  “How are you . . . so good . . . at this?” she purrs, the last syllable pouring out of her as her entire body tenses in response to my tongue.

  After riding out the last waves of her orgasm, Sienna props herself on her elbows, beckoning me toward her. Quickly stripping off my jeans and T-shirt, I join her on the bed, our bodies coming together like we’ve done this countless times.

  Even though it’s only our second night together, nothing about it feels awkward or unsure. After I sheath myself in a condom, I press in slowly, savoring the way she feels around me. So perfect. So warm.

  Sienna’s big blue eyes peering up at me, the way her delicate hands trace over the muscles in my shoulders and arms—she makes me feel like I’m ten feet tall and made of steel.

  “Case . . .” She whimpers when I find a pace that brings her right to the edge.

  “Yes, baby. So perfect,” I groan.

  Sienna comes apart, crying out and gripping me tightly as waves of pleasure rock over her. A few more deep thrusts and I erupt inside her, kissing her pouty mouth as I come.

  We lie together, kissing softly as I withdraw. Neither of us is in any hurry to move. I lift up on one elbow and gaze down at her. The fear I saw earlier in her eyes is gone, replaced by something happy and calm.

  I’m happy that I’m pleasing to her. And not in an I’m glad I satisfied a client kind of way. She’s done so much for me in the short time she’s been here—from helping me with my book, to nursing me back from the flu—I want to take care of her too. Even if the only way I know how to show my gratitude is between the sheets.

  As much as I’d like to stay here and not move, the condom does need to be dealt with, and so I’m forced to head into the bathroom and wash up. When I return, I find her under the blankets, curled on her side. I climb in beside her, and when she nestles into me, a warm, heavy feeling of contentment settles over me.

  “Still worried that I’m bored with you?” I ask, brushing her golden locks away from her forehead.

  “Shut up. We can’t all have the confidence of a little boy who thinks he’s a superhero.”

  “I didn’t always think that, you know. It wore off pretty quickly after I realized I was the only kid in first grade without a dad.”

  She props her head up, resting her chin on my sternum, drawing circles on my shoulder with her fingertips. “I’m sorry, Case. I can’t imagine.”

  “Nah, it’s fine. My mom did amazing, considering the shitty hand she was dealt. Even if money was tight growing up, she always made sure I was fed and warm and safe. That’s why I’m busting my ass to do something for her.”

  “Well, I think buying her a house is a pretty nice way to say thank you.”

  “I don’t know if I can ever really repay her, though, you know? What she did for me is so beyond just a roof over my head or food on the table. She had to give me twice the love, twice the support, and not once did I ever feel like something was missing. I wrote off that bastard of a father a long time ago, not just for what he did to me, but for the position he left her in . . . no money, a shitty job, a fuckload of debt to pay off. That’s what’s always pushed me to be better, to make something of myself. It’s always been for my mom, to make sure she never has to work as hard as she did to support me growing up.”

  “Who’d have guessed that would lead you to the escort business?”

  I smile down at Sienna, resting my head on my forearm. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “My parents would murder me. Like actually murder me. No offense, though.”

  “None taken. They’d really feel that strongly, even though Ryder does the same thing?”

  She shrugs, rolling her eyes. “It’s a textbook double standard, I know. But Ryder just hasn’t been as . . . motivated as I have, I guess. He has no problem leaning on our parents’ money, so he never really pushed himself to be or do anything more.”

  “But you have. First with your degree, and now with dance.”

  “Exactly. I know I’ll never be a part of a professional company, but what can I say? I didn’t choose it; it chose me. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t freaking love it.”

  “Have you ever thought about opening your own studio?”

  “Honestly? It’s definitely a dream of mine. I just don’t know if I could ever make it a reality.”

  I nod, the gears in my mind already spinning. I think I might know a way to make that happen.

  “Hey,” she says, swatting my arm with the back of her hand, “don’t even think about buying me a studio. I appreciate you helping me get the teaching job—seriously, it means so much—but if I’m going to do this, I have to do it on my own. My whole life, other people have been there to make sure I succeed at every turn. I’m so grateful to my parents and my brother and now you, but this? This is a dream I need to pursue all on my own. For real this time.”

  “Your wish is my command,” I reply, raising my hands in surrender.

  “You know what I wish?” She arches a brow, her fingers grazing my chest, circling my muscle. Her other hand snakes down my side, quickly finding my already growing shaft.

  I groan at her touch, my fingers immediately meeting her center, warm, wet, and ready. “I think I have a few ideas.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sienna

  It’s been a tough few weeks powered by pure motivation and endless cups of coffee, but the book is finally done.

  If I’m being totally honest, I wasn’t always sure it was possible. Less than a month to write a whole freaking book that’s supposed to transform its readers into bona fide sexperts? How about hell freezes over first?

  But after hours of writing, revising, and desperately failing to ignore the sexual tension in the office, we somehow pulled it off. After spending almost all of our Saturday making final edits, Case sent it off to his editor. And with time to spare before the deadline.

  I can hardly believe it. Less than thirty days, and he wrote a whole damn book. I practically floated home from the office on cloud nine from the sense of accomplishment. Or maybe it was just leftover endorphins from the mind-blowing sex last night.

  Whatever it was, it’s long gone now, replaced with a nervous energy vibrating in the pit of my stomach. I took Case up on his offer to take me out for a celebratory dinner tonight, but now, faced with a closet full of uninspired outfit choices, I’m more nervous than I thought I would be.

  As I push back cardigan after unworthy cardigan, my gaze flicks across a familiar bit of black fabric, the sale tags still attached. I unhook the hanger, my brow furrowed in curiosity, and pull from my closet a fi
tted knee-length black number with a slit cut high enough to turn heads a block away.

  Holy sex in a dress. I forgot I owned this.

  It was a college purchase, something I bought to wear to my ex’s fraternity formal. I ended up opting for something a bit less revealing after a few too many hours scrolling through Instagram left me feeling too chubby to pull it off. That feeling was so real to me then, but now I see my body differently. It’s a body that’s able to dance and move and brings Case to his knees. Maybe I should finally give this little number the night on the town it deserves.

  I slip the dress off the hanger and over my head, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I study my reflection—the clingy fabric hugs my curves in all the right ways. It’s strapless, so I’ll have to go without a bra, but I think with the right amount of confidence, it just might work. But is it too risqué for dinner with the boss?

  A quick glance at my phone tells me I don’t have time to think it over. With a pair of killer red high heels and a swipe of lipstick to match, I’m out the door to meet my ride just in time.

  Operating under the assumption this is not a date, but just a work event, I told Case I would meet him at the restaurant. Sliding into the back seat, I check the name of the restaurant Case texted me and provide it to the driver.

  The driver takes me across town and into the parking lot of a small brick building with big wooden doors and candles flickering in every window. If Case’s goal is to impress me, mission accomplished.

  One step through the door, and I’m in awe. All the decor in the restaurant is a rich, velvety maroon, except the tablecloths, which are blindingly white. Each of the small round tables is occupied by a couple dressed to the nines, talking in hushed, syrupy voices. I scan the room, looking to see if Case is already here.

  Over the quiet clinking of glasses and tinkling of forks against plates, I hear my name. Case is seated near the window, a fitted sport coat hugging his broad shoulders, a coy smile beckoning me over. He stands up as I approach, pulling me close for a light peck on the cheek. He holds me firmly by the small of my back, his stubble scratching my cheek as he leans in to whisper in my ear.