Fantasy for Hire

by Erika Wilde

“As real as it gets in San Francisco, I suppose.” He followed that up with a private, playful wink.

  She lifted an eyebrow, intent on finding out more about this mysterious man. “I take it you’re not from around here, then?”

  He expertly moved her to the slow beat of the music, dancing with her as if they were the only two in the bar. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

  She regarded him with a combination of curiosity and speculation. “I wasn’t aware of any ranches in the area.”

  The corner of his generous mouth quirked, but he didn’t comment. “So, it’s your birthday, hmm?” he asked, smoothly changing the subject.

  She rolled her eyes. “Trussed up like I am with this silly pennant, it’s kind of difficult not to know it’s my birthday.”

  He smiled, his eyes shimmering with warmth and a sinful spark. “Well, your friends got you a very special present.”

  At that moment the song they were swaying to ended, and before she could take in what he’d said, or politely excuse herself from his wonderfully solid body, he maneuvered her four large steps back, until the curve of her knees hit a lounge chair someone had put out on the dance floor. Wide-eyed, she tumbled into the cushioned seat. Startled on more levels than one, she frantically sought out her two friends.

  She found them, but quickly realized neither one would be any source of help. Both Kayla and Laurel wore goofy grins. Laurel lifted her camera, and a bright flash momentarily blinded Teddy, but she had no problem hearing Kayla yell, “Take if off for her, cowboy!”

  A flush of mortification burned Teddy’s cheeks as she realized she’d been set up. New music blared out of the speakers, an upbeat, rock-a-billy tune that encouraged her cowboy to move his hips in such a provocative fashion, it took her breath away.

  Belatedly, she realized his intent and attempted to escape while there was still a chance. “I really don’t think—”

  He leaned forward and braced his arms on either side of her chair, crowding her between hunter-green upholstery and an unyielding wall of masculinity. “No, don’t think at all,” he agreed in a teasing drawl. “Just sit back, relax and enjoy your fantasy, darlin’.” Lifting his hand, he withdrew the beige Stetson from his head and settled it lightly on the crown of hers. “And here’s a little something to remember me by.”

  Oh, God. Backdropped by thick, luxurious, dark brown hair, his eyes seemed greener, sexier, if that were even possible. But her muddled mind only had a handful of seconds to register that fact before he straightened, ending her hypnotic state of fascination.

  Then he stepped back, and while his hips moved rhythmically to the beat of the music, he grasped the sides of his western shirt and ripped open the pearl snaps securing the front. Teddy gasped, and the women in the Frisco Bay went wild—of which Kayla and Laurel were the loudest and most unrestrained in their cheering. The men in the establishment looked on with idle amusement.

  Despite a fond wish to be anywhere but sitting in the middle of the dance floor with a gorgeous man stripping for her, she found herself totally mesmerized by Austin McBride. Fascinated by his eat-’em-up eyes. Stunned by his breathtaking smile. Enthralled by his incredible body.

  It had been a long time since a man had captured her interest so thoroughly.

  With a wicked grin, he turned around and slowly shrugged out of his shirt, letting the cotton fabric slide down his arms to reveal a smooth, powerful-looking back that sloped to a trim waist. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on her cowboy that she could tell—even that nice, cute butt of his was all firm muscle as he gave it an enticing wriggle that had the women screaming for more.

  Yanking the shirt from the waistband of his faded jeans, he tossed the garment over his shoulder, and it landed right in the middle of her lap. The material was warm against her thighs, and smelled earthy and male. She had little time to register that before he tugged on the sides of his chaps and the Velcro holding them on gave way. Those, too, came sailing her way, the soft leather draping across her legs like a lover’s caress.

  Though the low-slung jeans he wore had a well-worn look about them, they were snug enough to mold to his narrow hips and the long, muscular length of his thighs and legs. The soft-looking material was creased and faded in all the right places, and even a little threadbare in the most intriguing spots, she noticed, as he slowly, sensuously, rolled his hips to the tempo of the music.

  His long fingers settled on the heavy belt buckle cinching his waist, and Teddy’s stomach bottomed out. But she couldn’t look away. With a lazy flick of his wrist, the leather strap slipped from the buckle, the movement slow and somehow erotic. Leaving the belt on and hanging open, he moved close enough for her to reach out and touch the tight muscles rippling along his belly. The dare in his eyes was unmistakable—he expected her to take off his belt!

  Someone in the crowd let out a shrill, wolf whistle, followed up with, “Go for it!”

  Austin grinned, obviously used to such enthusiastic displays. “You heard the lady,” he drawled encouragingly. “Go for it.”

  And so Teddy did. Grasping the metal buckle, she gave it a tentative tug. Austin gyrated his hips at the same moment, and the belt slid from the loopholes on his jeans and into her hands. The strip of leather was warm and supple against her palm, inciting naughty thoughts that shocked even herself. She groaned at her runaway imagination, grateful that no one could hear her over the noise in the bar. The music pulsated, the beat seemingly as raw and primitive as the man before her.

  She expected him to strip off his jeans like most male exotic dancers did, but he made no attempt to remove that last barrier of clothing. Instead, he danced for her wearing nothing but his formfitting jeans and a sinfully wicked smile. But, oh, this provocative teasing was so much more arousing than watching him strip down to a skimpy G-string, which would have spoiled the illusion he’d created. This teasing glimpse gave her enough to stir her imagination and incite future cowboy fantasies.

  It was apparent Austin McBride knew exactly how to stimulate a woman’s senses, and he used that knowledge to his advantage. He rocked his honed body to the beat of the music, giving her time to take in his bare chest, dusted with a light sprinkling of dark brown hair. Unable to help herself, she followed that trail down to where it whorled around his navel, then disappeared into the waistband of his jeans. And when he turned, giving her a view of his backside, the muscles across his shoulders bunched, and his tight bottom and sinewy thighs flexed with the easy, rhythmic movement of his body.

  He was truly a work of art.

  She licked her dry lips, suddenly feeling as though someone in the establishment had kicked up the temperature ten degrees. Her face was warm—hell, her entire body was prickly with fever—and her breathing was deep and labored.

  When her gaze lifted back to his face, his eyes were filled with a combination of sultry heat, immense charm and forbidden enticement. It was all a well-orchestrated act. She knew that, so why did she experience such an inexplicable connection between them, one that went beyond immediate sexual attraction to something deeper and mystifying in that man-woman way?

  Not soon enough to suit her embarrassment, the music ended and her fantasy was over. She glanced over at Kayla and Laurel and narrowed her gaze. Kayla grinned outrageously and blew at the tip of her finger as if it were the smoking end of a gun—too hot was her unmistakable message—and Laurel waggled her fingers at Teddy impishly.

  No doubt about it, Teddy was going to kill her two best friends.

  Austin Mcbride inwardly cringed as the Frisco Bay broke into a roar of raucous cheers, whistles and applause, and tried not to let his growing discomfort show. It was an odd sensation to find himself uncomfortable in what should have been a very familiar, and routine, situation.

  However, three months ago, at the age of thirty, while standing center stage wearing nothing more than a tight pair of pants with a roomful of women going crazy with lust, Austin had come to the conclusion that he was getting too old, and certain
ly less assertive and brazen, to be taking his clothes off in public. As owner and founder of Fantasy for Hire, he’d made the decision to retire his outrageous costumes, and let his younger and more energetic employees handle the exotic, and sometimes outrageous, fantasies women requested.

  Tonight had been the exception. Taking off his clothes had been a necessity, not a choice. Ryan, one of his most requested strippers, had called Austin on his cell phone to tell him that someone had sideswiped his car, and although he was physically okay, he wouldn’t be able to make his seven o’clock appointment at the Frisco Bay. That gave Austin a little over an hour to scramble to find someone to fill in. The two guys he managed to get hold of didn’t have the requested cowboy costume on hand—but Austin did. Deciding it would be simpler to take care of the engagement himself since time was so limited, he’d donned his western attire, all the while swearing this would be the very last time he fulfilled a woman’s fantasy outside of a bedroom.

  Tonight’s incident only served to shore up his decision to put Fantasy for Hire on the market for a new owner. In the past six years his shoot-from-the-hip venture had increased beyond his wildest expectations, expanding from two part-time employees to nearly a dozen young men who were willing to fulfill a woman’s twenty-minute fantasy for ample compensation.

  Austin had been amazed by the popularity of his business. Fulfilling fantasies, it seemed, was a very profitable commodity. Fantasy for Hire was so inundated with requests that he was turning away more customers than he had fantasies available.

  Despite the fact that the business cut into too much of his personal life of late, it was hard to complain about Fantasy’s success. The company had served its purpose in supplementing his income to help pay for the school loans and bills he’d accumulated while embarking on another venture in commercial landscaping nearly four years ago.

  His second business and ultimate career choice, McBride Commercial Landscaping, was finally lucrative and self-sufficient. Now, Austin wanted a life. One that didn’t include costumes and games, or bringing fantasies to life for hundreds of faceless women who clung to the illusions he displayed. He’d discovered the hard way that women found it difficult to separate him from the part he played. Once he performed for a customer, he couldn’t be sure if she wanted him for himself, or the private fantasy he’d created for her.

  That’s why he’d established his own personal rule a few years ago, after being used for one woman’s particular fantasy. The customers he performed for were off limits, no matter how intriguing the woman. And he found Teddy Spencer plenty fascinating, from the sleek cut of her silky blond hair that brushed her shoulders with a slight under-curl, to her big brown eyes that combined wholesomeness with a heady dose of sensuality, to those shapely killer legs extending from the hem of her short, navy-colored business suit. Her cream-hued blouse was pure silk, and although it was buttoned primly enough, he could see the faintest outline of lace shaping her full breasts. She was a dynamite package of sophistication and casual elegance, a distinct kind of demeanor shaped by old money and ingrained from birth. Those obvious signs should have warned him off, but the awareness that had leaped to life between them while they’d danced was still too fresh in his mind.

  Once the noise in the bar lessened, she lifted his shirt toward him with a wavering smile on her lips and the color of roses staining her smooth cheeks. “I, um, guess you’d like your clothes back?”

  Her tentative question made him smile. The way she so easily blushed was refreshing—an endearing quality he didn’t see very often these days. “It is getting a little drafty in here.” He took his shirt from her, and slipped into it. He didn’t bother to snap the front closed—it was a little late to worry about a “no shirt, no service” policy.

  Grasping her hand, he helped her to her feet. The touch was simple, an everyday, gentlemanly gesture, but when his fingers slid against her soft palm he heard her breath catch and saw something in her eyes flare. Incredibly, his body flashed a reciprocating heat that spiraled low in his belly.

  For the first time in years, Austin thought about mixing business with pleasure, until he saw the ruby and diamond ring staking a claim on her left hand. A woman didn’t wear a sparkly ring on that finger unless she was taken.

  It was too bad, but just as well—considering the only thing he had in common with her fantasy cowboy was his love of outdoors. Take off all the western trappings, and he was just a simple, hardworking, blue-collar city man. Hardly a match for her.

  “You were a great sport,” he said, distracting himself from the attraction racing between them.

  She groaned, the sound rife with chagrin. “As if I had a choice.” She shot her two friends an I’m-going-to-get-you-for-this kind of look.

  He grinned. “Happy birthday, Teddy.” Lifting her hand to his mouth, he brushed his lips over the back of her knuckles. A fleeting touch as soft as a butterfly’s wing. The gallant kiss wasn’t a service he normally provided for his customers, but he couldn’t stop the urge to give her one last thing to remember this evening by. “It really was my pleasure.”

  He let her go, leaving her speechless, and gathered up the rest of his things. He’d taken two steps off the dance floor when she exclaimed, “Oh, your hat!”

  He turned back around, and because she’d closed the distance between them, he tipped back the Stetson on her head with a flick of his finger. “I meant it when I said it was yours to keep. Compliments of Fantasy for Hire, and your girlfriends.” He gave her one last wink. “It’s up to you to explain to your boyfriend where you got it.”

  She appeared startled by his last comment, but he didn’t give her time to respond. The gig was up. No more pretenses. Back to real life.

  He headed toward the entrance of the Frisco Bay, and he didn’t look back.

  He never did.

  Chapter Two

  She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  Teddy leaned back in her office chair and flicked her finger along the corner of the white business card that stated simply, Compliments Of Fantasy for Hire. With a soft sigh, she stroked her thumb over the bold, black raised letters of Austin McBride’s name embossed on the left-hand corner. Beneath that was the business phone number, which was permanently etched in her mind.

  She’d found the rectangular card as she’d set the Stetson on her bedroom dresser when she’d gotten home last night after her impromptu birthday bash. It had been tucked into the thin leather band around the crown, and since Laurel and Kayla had insisted she wear the hat the entire evening, she hadn’t discovered it until later.

  The card certainly wasn’t an invitation to call, not unless she wanted a repeat performance from Austin, which she didn’t. She recognized the business card for the piece of advertisement it was—referrals and word of mouth went a long way in making a business successful—so why had she slipped the card into her purse this morning instead of leaving it at home with her birthday Stetson?

  She couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  It was a pitiful excuse, but there it was. She reminded herself that she couldn’t afford a distraction like Austin McBride, fantasy extraordinaire, not when she was so close to achieving the goals she’d set for herself. Goals that included a solid, steady career and complete independence from the overbearing family that still hadn’t recovered from the shock that she’d broken off her engagement to the affluent Bartholomew Winston two years ago. Her plans didn’t include a man, especially one who fulfilled women’s fantasies on a regular basis.

  She had to stop thinking about him. That’s all there was to it, she decided. Opening the middle drawer of her oak desk, she set the card on top of the other business cards stacked neatly in a small partition in the left-hand corner.

  “Out of sight, out of mind,” she muttered, doubting those six words would be able to make her forget her gorgeous, green-eyed cowboy.

  “Is that problem with your sight and mind going to affect your performance on the World Wide Travel
account?”

  Startled by the intrusion, Teddy pinched the tip of her index finger in her desk drawer just as it closed. Wincing, she glanced up and gave the man approaching her desk a barely tolerable look. Louden Avery, her boss and creative director at Sharper Image, considered himself above the courtesy of knocking or announcing his presence.

  He strolled into her office as if he owned it, his pale blue eyes missing nothing, not the remnants of a half-eaten lunch that attested to the extra hour she’d worked without compensation, or the files and sketches on her desk that she was currently devoting time to, or even what she wore. The latter was the worst, because he took his time about it. By the time he finished his deliberate perusal, her jaw ached from gritting her teeth.

  Keeping in mind that he was her boss, she summoned a pleasant smile she was certain didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Contrary to what you might have heard, my sight and mind are sound.”

  “That’s good to know,” he replied with calculated mildness. “I wouldn’t want anything to impair your chances of getting that promotion.”

  “The only thing that could hurt my chances is if someone more qualified than myself come along.” After all, they both knew she had the experience, along with a degree that gave her a distinct advantage over Fred Williams, the colleague she was up against.

  Louden merely smiled. Rounding her desk, he propped his hip on the corner nearest her, unmindful of the papers resting on the edge. Bracing his left forearm on his thigh, he leaned toward her, though his gaze was busy taking in the project laid out in front of her. “How is the preliminary sketch coming on the World Wide Travel logo?”

  “Just fine.” Louden liked to feel superior, and she had no doubt that his position on her desk had been chosen for such a purpose. She forced herself to look up at him, determined to meet his gaze. “It’ll be on your desk first thing in the morning, two days before deadline.”

  “My, aren’t you efficient.” Using a slim finger, he turned the sketch she was working on toward him, taking in the rough draft of a globe with connecting W’s, the initials the travel agency had requested. “And so talented, too. It would be a shame to see all this creativity go to waste.”