“You were fast to find your fun for the night. You must be getting better,” Alex commented with a tipsy chuckle.
“I suppose I am, but tonight it wasn’t all on me.”
My words got Alex’s attention, but before I could continue, Leslie yelled, “Finally!” My brows gathered above my nose as she dropped her wine glass onto the counter and ran to greet someone.
That kind of overly excited behavior was very unlike Leslie—even drunken Leslie—and I let my curious eyes follow her. My frown deepened when I realized that I had just been between the legs of the same woman who was now between Leslie’s arms.
What the hell?
The bartender placed my glass of whiskey sour in front of me just as the two women started walking toward Alex and me. I couldn’t peel my eyes from her. She looked just as gorgeous and elegant as she had before our encounter; the only thing that had changed was the way she looked at me. Instead of the wild vixen who had seduced me not an hour ago, the woman walking toward me now regarded me with an aloofness and innocence that made my whole body twitch.
Her eyes stayed focused on me until she and Leslie finally stopped in front of us. Then they turned to Alex. “Hey, Daddy,” she greeted, and my heart sank to my feet.
“Hi, honey. Mom and I were about to send someone after you.”
I reached for my whiskey and downed half of its contents in on gulp as I watched my friend interact with his child—whom I had just casually deflowered. Shit!
Through my blurry eyes, I watched her say something to her father that made him chuckle, but I was too preoccupied, cursing inside my head, to pay any attention to her words. My silent freak-out only ended when Alex called my name. I plastered on the most natural-looking smile I could muster and nodded. “Yeah?”
“You remember Amelia, right?” Alex asked me with a proud smile.
This was such a complicated question to answer. “S-sure.” I shuddered and then cleared my throat before adding, “Hi, Amelia.”
Alex frowned at my unusual display of nerves, but before he could say anything, Amelia stuck her hand in my direction and smiled. “Hello, Mr. Shepard.”
Instinctively, I reached out and shook her soft, dainty hand. “I haven’t seen you since your high school graduation, I think. It’s a pleasure seeing you again.”
She kept her eyes on mine and broadened her smile as her hand gently squeezed mine. “Oh no, Mr. Shepard. The pleasure is all mine.”
Chapter Three
Kellen
I woke up to the blaring sound of my alarm going off. My eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the vibrant morning sun shining through my bedroom window. In a sleepy haze, I fumbled around in search of the culprit that disrupted my slumber, but instead I found the soft contours of a slender, pale body. I took a deep breath and sat up in my bed as the model I had picked up the night before grunted and shifted farther under my crisp white sheets. My hand slammed the noisy device just as the girl opened her eyes.
Her round, blue eyes peeked at me from under the blanket, and I could see a smile forming on them. She ran a hand through the dark roots of the mess of bleached blond hair sitting atop her head and scooted toward me.
I moved closer to the edge of the bed, farther away from her. “I have to get to work,” I said in a voice still drenched in fatigue as I rubbed the residue of sleep from my eyes.
The persistent young woman shifted once more until she was practically on top of me. She wrapped a thin arm around my waist and brought her warm, chapped lips to the small of my back.
“What are you doing?” I asked, slightly uncomfortable with the unnecessary affection she was bestowing upon me.
“Giving you a good morning,” she purred as she reached around to grab my crotch.
I sighed and moved her hand away from my body as I stood up. Morning sex on weekdays wasn’t something I was in the mood for—or used to, for that matter. The women I brought back to my apartment usually left before I woke up. They understood, as well as I did, that what I needed from them required them to stay for two or maybe three hours. Anything more than that was just an unnecessary invasion of personal space.
This one, however, didn’t seem to get the hint. “Not in the mood,” I deadpanned.
“Okay . . . . Would you like to take my number so we can have some more fun later?” she asked with hope laced in her voice.
“No,” I replied. In the back of my mind, I could almost hear my mother telling me off for being such an asshole, but I just rolled my eyes and kept walking toward the bathroom. There was, after all, no point even thinking about what she would have said.
Behind me, the woman scoffed and sat up. I could hear her feet patter against the floor as she gathered her clothes. Mom’s voice nagged at me again, so I turned to look at the woman.