Love Me Not (3 page)

I glanced back. Her ass was tight, nicely curved but firm. Maybe she jogged or did yoga. She had to do something to look like that. Bodies like that didn’t occur naturally, at least none that I’d seen, and I’d seen a lot. But she wasn’t like some of the women around here, not over-tanned and body so hard it was like kissing a boulder. She’d be soft to the touch, yielding to my lips.

Fuck, Heath, what’s wrong with you?

I forced my attention back to the woman in front of me and smiled at whatever she was saying.

Then her words came back into focus. “So, how would you know what smells nice on a woman?”

I winked. What was I supposed to say?
I’ve screwed several dozen women who wore that scent, and it turned me on
? I didn’t think that would help my cause.

“Well,” she said, “it seems to do something to you.” She glanced down at my crotch.

I realized I was hard, like a fucking petrified tree trunk. My smile crawled over my lips like a panther on the hunt.

“So, do you come with the purchase?” she said.

“Depends.”…on how much cash she gave me.

While I led her up to the cash register, I fought not to look at the auburn-haired girl now talking with Penny at the other end of the counter.

I rang up the woman’s purchases, and she handed me a card.

Then she laid two one hundred dollar bills on the counter.

I slipped them into my pocket. “So, how did you hear about us?”

“Jane Murphy.”

“Lovely woman.”

“I’d been thinking about it, and then I heard you were working the shop today. I figured I could get a nice look at the merchandise.”

I smiled. “We only carry quality.”

“That’s quite apparent.”

“Thank you.” From the locked bottom drawer, I took Penny’s tracking book. I flipped to the “M., Jane” page. The name on the woman’s credit card matched number three on Jane’s list of referrals. One and two had already made appointments.

Penny insisted on the list. It helped protect us. I only slept with women who’d been referred by one of my more trusted clients.

I flipped to the front of the book, which was where my schedule was, and turned it around so she could see it better. “Would you like to be on our mailing list?”

She wrote her name in on Tuesday afternoon.

I put the book away and closed the drawer. While I bent down to lock it, I glanced over at the auburn-haired girl. What in the hell was she talking to Penny about for so long? It obviously wasn’t about an appointment. Penny would’ve come to get the book.
Damn
.

I stood straight and smiled at the woman in front of me. “We hope to see you again soon.”

“I’m sure you will.” She took the bag filled with her purchases and walked away.

Now to think of a way to talk to the girl without letting Penny see how attracted I was.

Shit, Heath, what are you doing?
How many times had I told Penny I wasn’t interested in dating? Penny used to ask me all the time. It drove me nuts. She used to worry I’d eventually want something different, that I might eventually want to get married again. A year ago, the idea was preposterous. Several years ago, it literally made me ill. Now it was less of a choice and more that this was just the way things were. I slept with women—I didn’t date them. I had no right to get any more involved than that. I was good at fucking, and I was incapable of getting anyone pregnant. This life was ideal for me.

At least that’s what I told myself.

I walked away from the counter, away from the beautiful girl. I had no right to talk to her when I had nothing to offer. And why would she want to talk to me? I had no house, not even an apartment—not even a damn car. And what would I tell her I did for a living? My cover was that I worked in the back of the shop—yeah, that would be impressive.

I tried to push these stupid thoughts away.
I don’t give a shit what people think, no one.
I didn’t get into relationships. The only thing I should be hoping for with this girl was for her to pay me to screw her.

There was a woman at the front of the store browsing massage oils. I went over to make more sales, either for the shop or for me, whichever.

To that woman, I sold $50 in bath oils and a few skin care products. And to the next woman, I sold $300 worth of time with me.

Then I went back out to sell some more.

“That’s a good seller,” I told the next woman. I wasn’t really sure, but it sounded like a good thing to say.

Her smile was a little bashful. She was probably the kind of woman who didn’t usually accept help from salespeople, but I could tell she was enjoying my attention.

“Oh, um,” she mumbled as she put the lotion back on the shelf. “I don’t know.”

Didn’t know what? I didn’t understand why women got so nervous. But I did understand how to help.

I leaned closer, brushing my chest across her arm, and picked up the lotion. “I’ll bet this would smell nice on you.” I lifted the cap and breathed in the scent. “Definitely.” I took her hands and placed the bottle in them. I spoke as if it was a secret, while touching her hands. “You know, men like soft skin on a woman.”

She was staring at me. I wasn’t sure if she was breathing.

With a smile, I turned to walk away.

As I passed one of the displays, I almost ran into someone—the girl with auburn hair.

Chapter 5

The Blonde And The Brunette

“Very smooth,” the auburn-haired girl said with a grin.

“Sorry.” What in the hell was wrong with me? I was trying so hard to ignore her that I almost ran into her.

“Not for almost mowing me down,” she said. “I saw you talking to that lady.”

I tried to yank my charming smile into place. It wouldn’t quite form.
What the fuck, Heath, you’re nervous?

“You must be salesman of the year,” she said. Her hair looked amazing in the sunlight—the color had depth like rubies.

“I do all right,” I said.

“I’ll bet.” Her smile was a touch lopsided, like it was unbalanced, heavy on wit, light on snide. “I shouldn’t keep you. There’re lots of women yet to be flirted with.” She took a step away.

I touched her hand, and she looked back.

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Heath.”

“Kimber.” She didn’t pull her hand away.

“That’s pretty.”

“Of course it is.” She spoke quieter. “Don’t waste your skills on me.”

I made direct eye contact. “It’s not a waste.”

She paused for maybe a couple seconds, just long enough to let me see my charm was starting to work.

“So, where’d your name come from?” I said. It wasn’t one of those questions I asked just to seem interested. I was interested.

“Nice to meet you, Heath.” Her eyes flickered to our hands before she walked away.

I almost held on to her hand, stopped her from leaving. But I could never do that. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had walked away from me like this.

I watched her leave, the fluidity of her stride, as if the flow of her hair extended through the rest of her, touched each of her movements with grace, even her wit.

The conversation, no matter how short, was fun, by far the most fun I had talking in a long time, at least a couple years. She disappeared from the view from the front window, and I tried to remember what I was doing.

Right, selling bath products, most of which I didn’t understand. What in the hell was a bath bead?

I glanced over at Penny to see if she’d noticed. If she had, I hoped she’d just chalk it up to my flirtatious sales style. She seemed occupied with ringing up a customer, the woman I’d talked to a few minutes ago. She bought the lotion.

I made several more sales, both for the shop and myself. I started to get the feeling word had gotten around that I was working the front today. Just like Jane’s friend, several more referrals came in. They all made appointments. Some made multiple appointments.

Penny came over when I finished accepting payment from one of those appointments. “It’s five. You should get ready for your six o’clock.”

Careful to keep it hidden from view behind the counter, I took all the cash I’d made out of my pocket. It was starting to bulge.

She took the cash. “Holy shit.”

“Next week is booked out.”

She unlocked the bottom drawer and stuffed the cash in the moneybag, and I went to the back to shower. I tried to be perfect for my clients, meticulously clean, fresh shave, a touch of cologne. These women were wealthy and expected quality.

As I stood under the shower, the girl with auburn hair kept flashing across my mind. Mentally, I stripped her naked and stared at her. From seeing a woman clothed, I could picture almost perfectly what she looked like naked. Kimber was stunning.

And her face, that sarcastic, witty smile, the way those few freckles partially camouflaged the troublemaker I saw in her eyes. Her lips were full, maybe a little pouty. I wanted to taste them. Her nose and cheekbones were delicate like Katherine Hepburn’s. Her eyes were bright with gold and green and tenacity.

I loved how she fought me today, how she wasn’t nervous, and I loved even more that my touch affected her—though surely not nearly as much as hers affected me. My heart beat faster, and my stomach jumped around. I’d thought I wasn’t capable of that anymore, too desensitized.

I woke from my fantasies and realized the water was cold. My erection kept getting in the way as I dried off. I contemplated jerking off until I noticed the time, five ’til six.

Tucking my dick into my jeans was
real
fun. I hoped these girls didn’t need a lot of foreplay.

I zipped my jeans just as the knock at the door came. Without bothering with a shirt, I went to answer the door. I hoped they were cute, hoped one of them had auburn hair.

“Hi,” they both said as I opened the door.

Great, they were perky. I’d have to pound the perk out of them.

I stepped back and motioned for them to come in. Neither had the hair color I wanted, but they were young, younger than me. That was unusual.

I closed the door. They were looking around the room. The bed was perfectly made as always with the covers pulled back on one side, but I hadn’t yet started a fire. The only light came from a lamp on one of the nightstands. It had a low wattage bulb with a heavy shade, just enough light to let me see their faces as they lay with me. I liked to watch them.

That was all the light the small room needed anyway. The bed took up most of the room, the very large bed. It would easily fit two girls.

“He’s cute,” one of them said to the other. They were now looking at me. “What do you think?”

The other one smiled a little.

“Please have a seat.” I purposefully didn’t specify where. If they chose the little wooden chair along the wall, they needed a little time to work into more, some conversation and a lot of flirting. If they sat on the bed, they were ready for me to make a more aggressive move.

“No, not yet,” the first one said. She was very blonde—I wondered if it continued everywhere. The other one had short dark hair.

I tilted my head at her response, more a curious gesture than rebuking.

“We’re still deciding,” the blonde said as she looked at me up and down. She would’ve been cute if she wasn’t so damn smiley and perky.

“And what are you deciding?” I said. Missionary or doggy style didn’t usually take this much thought.

“Whether I like guys,” the brunette said.

The corner of my mouth curved. “You’re lesbians.”

“Well, I’m bi,” the blonde said.

The brunette began to circle me as if she was examining a thoroughbred. “And I’m deciding.”

“You’ve never been with a man,” I said.

“I’ve had a penis, just not one attached.”

“Dildos don’t count.”

She walked around the other side of me. “Why’s that?”

I made eye contact. “I’ll show you.”

She raised her eyebrow and pursed her lips.

“Would a blow-up doll do it for you?” I said. “The dildo is nothing but the counterpart to the blow-up doll.”

“I don’t know. They’re pretty fun.”

I smiled slyly with half my mouth.

“What would you say if we decided not to sleep with you?”

“You paid me,” I said, “a large sum of money.” I cocked my head toward the blonde. “And I’m guessing your friend is hungry for some cock.”

The blonde giggled.

“You seem to be confident,” the brunette said.

I moved closer, barely not touching. “My job is to fuck women and make them squeal with pleasure. I take pride in my work.”

The blonde dragged her fingers down my shoulder and bicep.

“You think you can make me squeal?” the brunette said.

I leaned closer and murmured, “Yes.”

She didn’t’ step back. I saw in her eyes she wanted me to make a move. She was definitely bisexual. Now to prove it to her.

Slowly, I leaned even closer. Her breath was warm.

My lips touched hers once softly. Then again. Her lips moved with mine, and then I slipped my tongue into her mouth. She sighed.

I stopped the kiss.

She leaned into me.

I didn’t kiss her, didn’t touch her.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” I murmured.

She said nothing, hands now on my chest.

I waited.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Undress.”

She hesitated, and I maintained eye contact. She lifted her shirt off and then unhooked her bra. I watched as her clothes fell to the ground.

She stood before me nude. Her friend smiled a little as she looked.

I glanced at the blonde. “You too.”

She began undressing.

“Go lie down,” I said to both of them.

They held hands as they went over to the bed. They slipped into the sheets, and I moved closer. Watching lesbians was almost as fun as foreplay.

They looked at me. I just watched.

The brunette seemed to get the idea first. She touched her lips to the blonde’s.

Their breasts rubbed against each other. Their manicured fingers smoothed over each other’s skin. They breathed heavily. The brunette trailed lower and suckled the blonde’s breast. She watched me out of the corner of her eye.