Read Online Pinups and Possibilities by Melinda Di Lorenzo - Free Book Online Page B

was fully prepared to wipe away the lipstick so I could see what was underneath. Before I could, her own arm came up and pressed against my chest. Her palm was flat on my skin. I stiffened because I couldn’t stop myself.
    Not on my skin, I corrected myself. On my shirt. There’s a whole layer of fabric between us.
    I still had to fight off a flinch. When I shuffled my feet, her fingers slipped between the top two buttons, and suddenly her skin was touching mine.
    My reaction wasn’t defensive, as I thought it would be. Instead, it felt good.
    I told myself it was because it had been so long since I let anyone near that part of my body and all the suffering that went along with it, but the truth was that it was her .
    I had to stifle a carnal moan that threatened to escape from somewhere deep within my throat.
    Jesus.
    Heat spread like wildfire from my chest to my groin. I closed my eyes and savoured the feeling. She twisted the top button out of its hole and traced her nails along my collarbone. I held myself very still. I was sure that if I allowed myself to respond, I’d have her pressed against the Mustang in thirty seconds or less. I’d pull that dress over her head. I’d push myself into those subtly enticing underwear and from there, I wouldn’t be able to control my actions anymore.
    “Sixty dollars,” she breathed into my ear.
    “Huh?”
    “The going rate.”
    “For what?”
    “For a lap dance.”
    My eyes flew open and I jerked away. She shrugged.
    “In fact, eighty is the going rate at Tangerines,” she told me. “So sixty is a steal of a deal.”
    I was tempted—for a very long second—to reach for my wallet so I could pull out three crisp twenties and then tuck them into her ample cleavage.
    Just to see what she’d do, I told myself. Not because I need her in my lap.
    Instead I sighed and stated coldly, “I don’t have to pay for it.”
    She grinned, but the smile didn’t quite touch her eyes. “No. Quite the opposite.”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Oh, come on. Cohen more or less paid you to sleep with me.”
    Her statement couldn’t have pissed me off more. “He sure as hell didn’t.”
    “Tell yourself what you need to.”
    My jaw tightened as I forced myself to head off the argument. “I distinctly recall taking away your cell phone.”
    She shrugged again. “I happen to have a second one. Or I did have one until a minute ago.”
    “Why?”
    “One for business, one for pleasure.”
    “Which one was which?” She didn’t answer my question, so I tried again. “Where was the second one hidden? Just for future reference.”
    “Future reference? Are you planning on kidnapping another innocent woman sometime soon?”
    “My employer never sends me after innocent women,” I replied.
    “But he sends you after innocent men?” Polly countered.
    “He never sends me after innocent people,” I amended.
    “How can you be sure?” she wanted know.
    “Because in the end…they all pay up.”
    She snorted. “And I suppose I will, too?”
    “Yes,” I said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back in the car.”
    “And if I do mind?”
    “Then I’ve got some tricks up my sleeve. And all of them start with a roll of duct tape.”
    She tilted her head to the side curiously and from the set of her mouth, I thought she might be trying to cover a laugh. I guided her back to the Mustang and depressed the lock emphatically before closing her door.
    I turned to her once more before we moved off.
    “Why didn’t you call for help?” I asked.
    She shrugged. “Maybe you’re not the only one who feels the need to do things below board.”
    “Not the words of an innocent woman,” I pointed out, then after a pause, added, “You were calling him weren’t you? The size-doesn’t-matter guy at home. Should I expect him to come after us?”
    She smiled sadly and shook her head. “I just called a friend.”
    I suppressed a surge of irrational jealousy. “You’re