“Well, hello there,” she said, licking her lips to punctuate the seductive greeting. A particularly dirty thought cropped up while he watched her tongue moisten those plump lips.
He just stood there, holding his bag and balloons.
“Oh my, Val,” she said into the phone, “you have no idea how completely and utterly you have outdone yourself.”
Her eyes did things to him he could barely describe while they slid over every inch. His spine tingled under that gaze, and damn if her nipples didn’t stand up and salute after her visual tour. Something lower on his body began saluting as well.
She laughed at whatever response she got on the other end. “Have I told you that you are my absolute best friend in the whole world?”
There was no mistaking the sloppy rush to the words, a slur that told him she had started celebrating her birthday quite some time before he had arrived. That could either make his job easier or more complicated, depending on a number of factors. Drunks were unreliable at best, and quite often, they kept on going even after they got knocked down.
His quarry clicked off the call after kisses and thanks, and she opened the door wider. “So, do you have more for my birthday than just a ripe, round bunch of balloons?”
If she only knew what all he had. Starting with a ridiculously ill-timed boner and ending with the handcuffs in his pocket. Two things which, at the moment, didn’t necessarily strike him as mutually exclusive. This was bad. All kinds of bad.
“Oh yeah,” he said, going for a fuck-me tone while he met her gaze straight on, although the stab of heat in his stomach made him wish he hadn’t. “There’s a whole lot more to this gift than meets the eye.”
A delicate eyebrow lifted. “Good, because I definitely approve of what’s meeting my eye.”
She reached out and ran her hands over his chest, and he stiffened without thinking. That probably wasn’t what strippers did when handled by a hot female customer. Fortunately, Lydia didn’t seem to care about that, but when she gave his shirt an aggressive tug and nothing happened, she pulled back with a frown.
“What’s this?” she asked. “You’re not wearing standard-issue stripper wear. Where’s the Velcro, stud?”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I believe in offering authenticity with my costumes.”
“And I believe in easy-on, easy-off.” She winked. “But I appreciate the dedication to my entertainment.” However, she glanced suspiciously at his duffel. “What’s in the bag?”
And what was with the twenty questions? Why wouldn’t she let him inside? Maybe she wasn’t totally buying his act, despite calling her friend to confirm that she had, in fact, hired a stripper.
Then again, he didn’t have to keep the game going. She’d opened the door, and that was good enough. He could just drop the charade right now and force his way in, but something told him to play this one cool. Win the fly over with honey rather than vinegar.
He offered a slow grin while he unzipped the bag and held it open. “A change of clothes and a portable stereo. You know, for the music I need to do my routine.”
With a smile, she reached over and took the balloon strands from him. “Here. Why don’t you let me pull your strings?”
She turned her back on him then, and his heart lurched as she sauntered away carrying her pretty pink balloons like a naughty girl. Below a slender back and perfectly curved waist lay the hottest, roundest bare ass he had ever beheld, courtesy of the surprise thong on her bikini bottom. He wasn’t the only one flossing his crack, and what it did for her sent a throb of need through his already pulsing dick. Fuck yes, she was a very naughty girl. One in desperate need of a spanking.
He followed her inside, taking a quick inventory of the place before shutting the door. The digs were small and cozy, furnished in wild colors and professional decorator touches, although everything seemed almost as dated as the building itself. Considering the ocean-front location, the place probably cost a small fortune. Her bank account had been frozen, so he idly wondered how she was funding this little vacation. But then, his interest in checking out the place wasn’t to assess decor and property values. He was scanning carefully for signs that she wasn’t alone.
The front door opened right into a small dining area. He stood beside a simple wooden table and glimpsed the cracker-box-sized kitchen to the right. No one was there or in the living room just ahead. A bottle of expensive-looking booze sat on a dark, kidney-shaped coffee table, and only one glass sat beside it. That was an encouraging sign, but he would ask anyway.
She wandered toward the living room, stopping to tie her balloons to the back of a dining room chair. He barely managed to take his gaze off her ass long enough to notice the fantastic view out the living room window. Bright-purple drapes had been thrown wide to showcase the ocean, which spread out before them like a massive ink blot. At this hour, it looked like a dark and fathomless stain against the azure-blue sky of deepening twilight. It was majestic, eternal and unspeakably beautiful. But he couldn’t give half a shit about it. He was busy scoping out the fire escape window, which was conveniently open.