0-69 in 5 Minutes

WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is
for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it
is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will
be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES
ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic
language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please
store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

All sexually active characters in this work
are 18 years of age or older.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents are solely the product of the author’s
imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be
made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: Jasmine Black

0 to 69 in 5 Minutes © March 2010 Jasmine
Black

e
X
cessica publishing

A Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved

0 to 69 in 5 Minutes

By Jasmine Black

Chapter 1

What am I doing in a hotel
convention room full of sex-crazed people?
Looking for a date. A shudder rippled through Valerie as she
scanned the room of hopefuls. She needed a tall guy with dark brown
hair and blue eyes. Ripped muscles from neck to toes. No children.
Oh yeah, and dimples.

Why had she lied about having a boyfriend?
She laughed bitterly. Because her parents wanted her to settle
down, start a family. How could she when every man she’d ever dated
had lied to her?

Guilt over the lie stabbed her, but she
forced it away. She couldn’t allow it to interfere with her plans.
Just this one time she needed to think about herself first and get
through this ordeal with her sanity in check. Then she’d worry
about making amends.

Things would be better if she stuck to the
plan. Men couldn’t be trusted and she had no desire to put her
heart on the line again. But she’d have even bigger problems than
that if her plan failed.

Why couldn’t she have described her fantasy
lover a bit more vaguely? No, she had to go all out. Impress her
family with his imaginary good looks, charm, and personality.

Oh, that was a lie, and she knew it. The
news of her hot new man would weave its way to Tyler, her
ex-fiancé, making him regret dumping her for that tramp. Not to
mention, she couldn’t face him at her ten-year high school reunion
alone. Not when he’d made a name for himself, however trashy it
might be.

The lady in line in front of her stepped
aside, and she moved up. A man in a black t-shirt with the word
“staff” in orange letters sat behind a desk. She glanced at his
name tag. Gene.

“
Welcome to Fast Track to
Love speed dating. Name, please.” Gene wiggled his bushy
eyebrows.

Her stomach churned,
whether from Gene’s exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, or the giggling
crowd pressing in behind her, she couldn’t tell. More likely
paranoia was the root of the tiny acid bubbles finding their way up
her throat
, but still, she hoped no one
recognized her. She didn’t need anyone to find out she’d lied about
having a boyfriend. The guilt was eating her alive, but she’d come
clean to her family down the road-in her own time.

“
Valerie Jordan.” Her gaze
darted from side to side, trying to catch a glimpse of any man with
brown hair, or anyone she knew.

Gene found her name on his list and checked
it off. Then he handed her a card with the number five printed on
it. “Okay, Valerie, you’re all set. In a few minutes the
coordinator will give an opening speech and get the event started.
Until then, relax, mingle. Cocktails are on the house. I hope you
have a wonderful evening and find that someone special.”

The cheesy line rolled off his lips with
enthusiasm. How many people found true love in five minutes? True
love? Who was she kidding; she just wanted a date to fool her ex.
She’d never tried speed dating before, but where else could she go
to find a man on short notice?

The population of men grew rather large and
more people waited in line to register. Her odds seemed to increase
as the start time grew closer. The first five or so men she saw
warranted no second looks. Older, bald, short. She had a few more
minutes, perhaps the man of her dreams awaited beyond the entrance
doors. However, she hoped he’d walk through them soon so the
butterflies in her stomach would settle down.

A waitress carrying a tray of champagne
walked by, and Val took a flute. Then she wrinkled up her nose and
waved her hand through the air as the lady in front of her, doing
some last minute primping, sprayed perfume, nearly squirting the
foul chemicals in her eyes. Two older women, probably in their late
fifties to early sixties, stood behind her gossiping about a few of
the gentleman they had noticed. Apparently one lady wanted a nice
older man for companionship while the other wanted to ‘shake her
booty’ with a young stud who could ‘get it up.’

Shocked, Val gasped and coughed as the
champagne tried to slide down her closed throat. The ladies giggled
and continued their conversation. Still shocked, Val circulated the
large rectangular room, hoping her face was not as red as it
felt.

Minutes later and a few glasses more of
champagne, the coordinator cleared her throat into a microphone to
gain the participants’ attention. “Welcome everyone to this week’s
event and for those of you from across the river, welcome to
Evansville, Indiana. Thank you all for coming tonight. No pun
intended.”

A roar of laughter came from the men in the
room and a few giggles broke out from the ladies as well. Were
these people adults or horny teens?

“
You can see the long row
of tables and chairs running down the center of the room. Each one
has a number on top. Everyone will sit at the numbered table that
matches the number on their ticket. Then you will have five minutes
with each member of the opposite sex to get their name, ticket
number and whatever else information you’d like. After that I’ll
say ‘switch’ and the men will move down the line. At the end of the
evening, please turn in the list of numbers for the people you
would like to contact. If your numbers match someone else’s, then
our staff will arrange a meeting for the two of you.”

The coordinator paused while the crowd
applauded her speech. “If you’re here to meet individuals of the
same sex, I’m sorry, but we can’t accommodate you tonight. We have
a special mixer for you planned at the end of the month.”

A few men and women groaned and left the
hotel convention room. Sad really, two of the men had been
hopefuls. Val twisted and scanned the remaining men. She might be
able to get by with a few over-exaggerations, after all most people
did hype up their love interest. However, no one came close,
especially now. The night would be a waste. If she left, she might
find someone in a bar or a club.

The deadline loomed in her mind. She had two
weeks until the big day Tyler strolled back into town. He’d
probably drive up in some fancy sports car. Wave his fame and
fortune in everyone’s face. Brag about models he’d filmed in his
sleazy x-rated movies. But what could she say? Sex sold, and Tyler
had the cash to prove it.

Lights dimmed and soft music began to play
in the background. Vanilla scented candles flickered on the tables.
Waitresses moved down the line with trays of champagne, beer and
cocktails. Val sat down at her numbered table and was joined by a
man in a business suit. His blonde hair was combed to the side, and
he wore wire-rimmed glasses.

“
Hello. I’m Barry, and I’m
looking to get laid.” He smiled a snaggletooth grin.

She gasped at his bluntness and leaned
against the back of her chair. “Well, Barry. I’m not.”

Barry continued talking as if she’d never
turned him down. Would all the men think she’d engage in sex within
a few minutes of meeting them? Lord, she hoped not. There had to be
someone here who wasn’t desperate. Someone who was sane would be
nice.

Her mind wandered and her eyes followed, not
caring what Barry thought. Men and women of all ages, races and
social standing filled the tables. Yet she didn’t see the man she
was looking for. Of course there was always hair dye and colored
contacts. Maybe she could talk a man into changing a few things if
he had the right body and, of course, dimples. Unfortunately, those
couldn’t be faked.

“
Switch!”

She breathed a sigh of relief. After four
and a half minutes of listening to Barry’s chest-beating, Val was
glad when he moved down.

This time an older gentleman with salt and
pepper hair sat down. He looked great for an older guy. A long
strong jaw line, trim and in shape. She might have even gone out
with him on another night, but he didn’t fit the description she’d
dreamed up. Even if he would change his hair, he still looked about
ten years too old.

When the lady said switch, she stood up and
headed for the door.

“
Miss? Miss?” The
coordinator rushed over to her. Hair falling out of her tight bun
and her skirt flying around her thighs as she wobbled, trying to
navigate in her pumps. “You can’t go. You signed up, and I can’t
give you a refund.”

“
I don’t want a refund.”
All she wanted was to get one drink at the bar and plan her next
move. She turned when she heard another commotion at the
entrance.

“
Oh, come on. I’m five
minutes late, and you have an uneven number of participants.” A
tall guy with dark hair grumbled in a deep husky voice to
Gene.

Broad shoulders, muscles
bulged where the sleeves of his polo cut across his biceps. Tight
buns and lean hips defined his khaki pants.
Oh, God please let him have blue eyes and
dimples
. A stretch, she knew. How many men
with brown hair had blue eyes? She should have looked up the stats,
but the words had flown out of her mouth before her mind had had a
chance to catch up.

“
Miss?”

“
What?” She turned back to
the frantic woman. “Oh, right. Don’t worry. I’m staying. I just got
a bit nervous, that’s all.” She pulled out her seat and sat back
down as the coordinator rushed off to the new participant and, with
any luck, her new love interest.

* * * *

He was late, but he’d made it. Noah Kittler
made his way to the row of round tables covered in linen
tablecloths and filled with prospective dates. Why he’d let his
sister talk him into speed dating was beyond his comprehension. She
did have a point. He liked to do everything fast. Well, almost
everything. Some things had to be slow and tender. Other things he
pushed to the limit, like work and his car on the track. Why should
dating be different?

Only one seat remained empty at the other
side of the room. He made his way across the vast space and sat
down. The woman at the table had long straight black hair, hoop
earrings and a nice smile. Candle light flickered across her face.
She appeared to be in her forties, a bit too old for him since he
liked to date woman a few years younger than his own thirty-one
years.

“
Hi. I’m Wanda. What’s
your sign?”

Was she serious? His sign? His sign was her
cheesy line telling him to move to the next seat, but he had to
wait until the five minutes were up. Lucky for him, he’d come in
late and only three and a half minutes remained. “My name’s Noah
and I have no clue what my sign is.”

“
Have you ever had your
chart done?” Wanda spread out crystals on the table.

“
No…” This was too weird.
By the time she stopped littering the table top, charms covered
half.

Her eyes closed, and she breathed in deeply
before opening her eyes and taking his hand. Running her finger
over his palm, she sighed.

“
I can tell a lot about a
man by his hands. You work with yours. Strong and focused.” She
traced a few more lines.

He shifted in his seat, hating the attention
she paid to his hand. After all, they had met about thirty seconds
ago, and she massaged his palm a bit too intimately, tickling him
as her finger swept along.

“
In the very near future,
you will meet a beautiful woman and fall hopelessly in love with
her. But life-threatening danger enters your soul through selfish
desires. Lies will surface and hearts will be broken.” She folded
his fingers and placed his hand on the table. “That is all I can
say for now.”