Page 9 of About that Fling
“Over there on the lampshade. Is this the aunt who gave you the note about embracing your inner sex goddess?”
Jenna felt the heat creep into her cheeks as she wriggled into her bra. “I can’t believe I showed you that. Yes, of course.”
“Mission accomplished. Consider her embraced and ravished.”
She smiled and ordered herself not to blush again. “I’ll ask for a gold star as soon as I get home.”
“So can I see you again?”
“I’m not sure.” She found her earrings on the nightstand, along with a glass of lukewarm water she gulped down in two quick swallows. “You’re not married, right?”
“Definitely not.” Something in his tone made her look up, and she caught a glint of steel in his green eyes.
“Spoken like a man who either has a body in his trunk or an ex-wife in his past.”
He smiled, and the steel softened a little. “No on the body, though I can’t say it never crossed my mind. The divorce was messy.”
“Kids?”
“No. No prison record, either, though I did get a speeding ticket when I was twenty-one.” He picked up her dress off the chair by the bed and handed it to her. “So can I see you again?”
She accepted the dress and yanked it over her head, stumbling into her shoes. “I had a really nice time with you,” she admitted. “A really nice time. Not just the sex.”
“Likewise.”
“All the articles say it’s impossible to have any sort of relationship with someone after you’ve slept together on a first date.”
“Technically, we haven’t had any dates.”
“Good point.”
“We gigolos are known for our persuasive skills and solid reasoning.”
She gave up her urge to play it cool and let the smile spread unhindered across her face. “What is it you really do for a living?”
“I’m a counselor.”
“As in attorney, or as in shrink?”
“Yes.”
She wasn’t sure she understood the joke, or even if it was a joke, but there was one way to find out.
“Okay. We should have a real date.”
“How about dinner?”
“I like dinner.”
“Then it’s settled. Now turn around.”
She did as he said, and before she could ask why, he was zipping up the back of her dress. His fingers felt warm on her skin, and she shivered remembering all the things he’d done with those fingers.
She turned back around, not feeling any less naked now that she was fully clothed. “Thank you. For everything, I mean.”
“Don’t mention it.”
She glanced down at the nightstand and noticed a notepad beside the condom wrapper. Wrappers. She reached for the pad and a pen beside it. “Here’s my number. I’ve got a jam-packed weekend and I’m pretty tight at work this week, but maybe next Friday?”
