Authors: Kristen Strassel,Allyson Starr
“It’s not Death Metal, right?” I wrinkled my nose. The only thing Bret and I had in common was wanting each other.
“Don’t try to label me, Gem.” He looked over his shoulder and winked.
I took the opportunity to admire the way his T-shirt strained against his broad shoulders, and that firm, high ass when he had his back to me, strapping himself into his guitar.
“I prefer to write on Sally.” He turned around, revealing his scuffed acoustic guitar covered in worn stickers.
“Is that the guitar Dad gave you for Christmas?” I racked my brain, trying to remember how long ago he gave it to him. Bret had to have been in junior high, because I barely remembered a time when he didn’t have that guitar.
“Yup. Sally was my first love, and she’s never failed me.” He sat on the chair with his legs spread wide and ran his fingers over the strings.
The rhythm vibrated deep inside me. My gaze was glued to his fingers. The song was beautiful. It would sound different in all its intended electric glory, with the band supporting it, but now it was like it already had lyrics. The story was that clear. I closed my eyes, soaking it in, but all I could think about was Bret sliding his fingers over my body like he did to the neck of the guitar. Silky smooth and stopping when he found
the
spot that made her cry in pleasure.
I knew how Sally felt.
Bret’s eyes were closed, his mouth open. He’d gone to another place, a channel for wherever the music was coming from. He reacted to the notes. His body tensed as the song built to a crescendo.
Watching him play guitar was like watching him fuck. No wonder Enemy Impact sold out so many concerts. I’d never let myself understand Bret’s allure before this summer, but this took it to a whole new level.
I dropped to my knees in front of him.
“Gemma, what are you doing?” Bret sounded like I’d woken him from a dream.
“Keep playing.” Anything else I said would’ve ruined the moment.
Bret obliged, shifting Sally to one knee so I could unzip his fly. I’d missed his cock. I knew he’d be hard.
He missed a note when I flicked my tongue at the tip of his piercing, and he shifted before starting again. I wrapped around his shaft, and he wasn’t going anywhere. He groaned when I took him in my mouth, but he kept playing, as I asked. I moved my tongue in time to the music, and this was my new favorite song.
Leah
“
I’m Not Going
.”
“Like hell you’re not going,” Kari said before dropping her head on the table. Oh, the dramatics. My best friend was one of the fiercest prosecutors in the country, but there was one thing that could reduce her to acting like a teenager. “You’re not making me go to this reunion alone, Leah.”
I lifted my chin, it was hard not to laugh at her with her usually perfect chestnut hair splayed on the table. Tonight was our Wine and Netflix Night, so instead of the stick-straight clip-in extensions she usually wore, her hair was falling out of a messy ponytail. I wasn’t giving into her outburst. Not that easily. “I don’t have a date.”
Just the thought of high school had a way of making us all regress. Going to this thing would be worse than that recurring nightmare everyone has about showing up at school with no clothes on.
We were all going to this reunion naked. There was no hiding what we’d become.
“You can be my date.” She picked her head up, wiping her hair out of her face and refilling her wine glass with a sigh. “Listen, I don’t want to go either. But as president of the class of 1995, I’ve spent way too much time planning this to pull a no-show.”
“You can totally no-show. The only reason you got elected is because the rest of the class was too lazy for student government.” I could count how many people voted in the election without taking off my socks. “And Rich already accused us of being in a torrid lesbian affair when I moved down here. I’m sure he’s told everybody. If we show up together...”
“Good!” Kari laughed. “If I thought it would’ve gotten you away from that asshole sooner, I would’ve put the moves on you years ago.” Kari was a definite upgrade from my ex-husband. The only good things he gave me in fourteen years of marriage were our daughter and a reason to leave. Our shotgun wedding ensured I would’ve had Raven anyway.
Speaking of Raven, she rolled her eyes when she walked through the kitchen. She had a knack of walking in on the wrong bits of conversation. The divorce uprooted my baby in the middle of her sophomore year, and she was never going to forgive me or Rich. “When are you going back to Scituate?” Raven asked.
“Next month,” Kari answered before I had a chance to say
when hell freezes over
. “For our twenty-year high school reunion.”
“Really?” Raven raised her eyebrows as she did the math. The subtle movement was enough to make me feel ancient. “Can I come? I’ll see if I can stay with Kenzie.” Neutral ground. Smart girl.
“Absolutely.” Kari stood up, putting her arm around Raven and ushering her out of the room. “Text her now and let her know you’re coming.”
Raven headed back to her bedroom to tell her best friend she’d see her soon, and I glared at mine. “You bitch!” I laughed. “You used my daughter to get your way.”
Kari sat back down, looking satisfied. “Damn straight I did. You can always tell her no.”
“Right. Which will somehow turn into Rich saying I won’t let him see her.” I finished my wine and resisted the urge for more. Too much red would bring a mariachi band marching through my brain in the morning. I had a long day of filming ahead of me tomorrow and I didn’t want to do it with a hangover. “I know it sounds pathetic, but if I show up to this thing without a date, I feel like he wins.”
The day I found Rich with his head between Shelley’s legs felt like the end of the world. I’d been helping my sister all day, exhausted, and all I wanted was to crawl into bed and make all the bad things go away. That didn’t happen because they were in it. Fucking. On my favorite sheets, no less. Trust me, I burned those things in the backyard first chance I had. Rich and Shelley are lucky they’re both still alive because it took everything I had not to wring their necks. But that turned out to be my Independence Day. Rich didn’t think he could love me anymore? Best of luck to you, buddy. You’re going to need it. It was time for me to start loving me.
Live for me
. I looked down at the tattoo on the inside of my wrist, the last words my little sister Lisa had said to me. I’d been taking care of her when Rich started bringing that slut into my bed. I always thought we were too young for things like breast cancer, but I’d been wrong. She fought with everything she had but didn’t live to see my divorce finalized. Those words had become my rally cry.
“You have a phenomenal career and you look amazing. You have no reason not to walk into that reunion with your head held high.” Kari still frowned. “But I understand why you feel that way.”
Kari was the only person who kept hours as crazy as mine. She was a federal prosecutor, and I was an interior designer. When Raven was little, I worked as a sales associate at Design Spot. Two years ago, once the divorce was final and I was free from my past, I moved from Massachusetts to Georgetown and finally joined a design firm. That had been my plan after I finished college, but instead I had a baby. Raven grew up, but I stayed at Design Spot. In DC, I found a funky boutique agency that encouraged me to push beyond my comfort zone because that’s where the magic happened. Soon I was able to take my own clients and do the kind of work I only dreamed of doing when I was stuck at Design Spot. No more shades of beige for me. Now my work was in magazines. My clients included rock stars, actors, and artists, and I had a weekly spot on a national morning show. I’d achieved more than I dreamed was possible.
But Kari constantly had a man around. And I did not. “How do you meet all these guys?”
“I hire them,” she said with a completely straight face. I expected a punch line, but it didn’t come.
“What did you just say?” Because I couldn’t have heard her right. No more wine for me tonight.
“I hire them,” she repeated, and this time I spit red wine all over the table. “They all come from an agency.”
I squinted in confusion. “You’re dating models?” There was another alternative, but I refused to let myself believe it. Kari had government security clearance. There was no way she was hiring…
“They’re escorts.” Still no punch line. “I call the agency and hire them when I want a date.”
“All of them?” I’d met some of these guys. I’d had no idea. “I can’t believe you’d keep this from me! And now you tell me like it’s no big deal?”
“Because I felt the same way you did at first. Dirty. Like I was doing something wrong.” She leaned forward, her face lighting up. “When I moved to DC, I gave it a try. I don’t have time for all that relationship bullshit. Most guys piss their pants when I tell them what I do for a living. They turn it into a competition, which is a shame because the only person they’re competing against is themselves. I don’t care what they do as long as they can take care of themselves and they’re happy. And they have something to talk about. Out of desperation, I tried this. I only wish I did it sooner. There’s no pressure. These guys know why they’re there. To provide a service. If I want them to come to a work function with me, they do. If I want to take them to the Pancake House, they’ll order a short stack and a side of bacon. And if I want them to fuck me until the world stops spinning, they’re more than happy to oblige.
“They aren’t prostitutes. They’ve been screened and chosen for this, and they aren’t cheap. They’re smart, interesting, open-minded, they’ve got bodies built for sin, and Jesus Christ can they fuck.” Kari exhaled and smiled. It was the softest I’d seen her look in a long time. “There are certain things a woman should not be ashamed to pay for: comfortable shoes, a therapist, and a lover.”
“Maria Karina Gomez, I thought I’d heard it all and here you go and shock me.” My mouth was still hanging open as she grinned.
“You haven’t heard it all yet, girl. Not by a long shot. I’ve been watching you struggle with those Right Match guys and I’ve been itching to tell you about this. It made it so much easier that you asked me.” She leaned back in her chair.
“You bring them to your work stuff? Did I hear that right?” I still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t the wine talking and she’d be horrified with me tomorrow when I brought it up again.
“Your tax dollars hard at work.” Kari laughed. “I have to spice up those parties somehow, or else I’d die of boredom. You remember Jason, right?” She’d brought him to the barbecue party I threw for Raven’s birthday. “He’s also a golf pro. He gave the vice president some tips on his game. I need to watch out. I smell a bromance brewing. I think they played a round together recently.”
I didn’t know what to say. “Have you ever…” the thought felt childish, “had feelings for any of them?” Here Kari was on the leading edge of the feminist movement and I wanted to bog her down with convention.
Her eyes hazed over, and I knew the answer before she said a word. “I have my favorites.” She quickly snapped out of it. “Stop thinking of this in terms of a relationship, Lee. It’s a business transaction. Trust me, it’s a relief. Especially after you’ve been slogging through everyone else’s leftovers on those damn dating sites. I was there, too. It didn’t work.”
“That’s for sure. Right Match is like the used car lot from hell.” My metaphor wasn’t lost on Kari. Rich managed his dad’s car dealership. I was trying to keep an open mind with my online dating prospects, but these guys weren’t making it easy for me. “But this escort thing. It’s just fucking scandalous.”
“Isn’t it?” Kari topped off her wine glass and refilled mine, too. Mariachi band, here we come. I knew I should’ve bought white. “It’s also efficient and practical.”
She was right. But it was still fucking scandalous. “How does it work?”
“I’ll show you.” I followed Kari into my office. Once I booted up the computer, she typed in the address for a plain looking website that could’ve belonged to any corporation in America. She entered a username and password and the page changed to pictures of men. “Here you go. Click on a picture and check out their profiles.”
My cheeks burned. “This is how I shop for shoes!” I exclaimed. It wasn’t that much different than Right Match, it was just a sure bet. Kari got out of the chair and motioned for me to sit down. I didn’t right away; instead I leaned over the chair, looking at what seemed like an endless supply of mostly shirtless, but all gorgeous photos of the men I could choose from.
A business transaction. No strings attached. I looked back over to her. “I’m scared.”
“I know you are. That’s why I’m going to treat you to the first appointment so you can get to know the guy. You need a referral to get in, anyway. Now you just have to pick him.”
OTHER BOOKS BY KRISTEN STRASSEL
BLOOD COURTESANS
COLORADO SHIFTERS
SAWTOOTH SHIFTERS
Forever Home
Rescue Me
Protect Me
Conquer Me
Celebrate Me
Shelter Me
Complete Me
THE NIGHT SONGS COLLECTION
(Vampire Rock Star Romance)
CIRQUE MACABRE
(Vampire Dark Fantasy—A Night Songs Spinoff Series)
The Fire Dancer
THE SPOTLIGHT SERIES
(Rock/Country Star Contemporary Romance)
THE ESCORT SERIES
(Contemporary Romance)
No Strings Attached
Wrapped Around My Finger
Ties That Bind