“I’m Helen.”
I was so distracted by him, I’d almost blurted my real name.
“Zane,” he said, breaking into an easy smile and subtly wiping his palm on his jeans before taking my hand. His shake was more tentative than I would’ve expected and felt warm and a little clammy even after wiping it.
He was nervous.
I wasn’t a particularly short woman, but this guy was like six and a half feet tall.
Oh, shit I want him bad.
I needed to lower my expectations. He was a gorgeous guy in his twenties. I wasn’t holding my breath that he could locate my clitoris, far less show any interest in using that knowledge.
“Can I get you a drink?” he asked, releasing my hand abruptly and gesturing to a mini bar like he wasn’t sure what we were supposed to do next.
I didn’t like drinking much with clients, but it felt awkward to say no and seem like I was in a hurry.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” I said, glancing up at him from under my lashes, not needing to fake the flirtation even a little bit.
While he opened two beers, I glanced at the table and saw a couple of birthday cards.
“Are we celebrating your birthday tonight?” I asked.
Our fingertips brushed together when he handed me a beer and the contact made me nervous. Like I was back in junior high and my crush had just touched me.
Except back then, I’d been awkward and shy around boys. Now? I was wondering how long I had to wait to climb on his lap.
He tapped his bottle against mine. “We are. Is it okay that you’re my birthday present to myself? Wait, that came out wrong. I don’t mean that you’re like an object or…”
I put a finger to his lips to stop the nervous babble, wishing he’d pull my finger into his mouth.
“And how old is the birthday boy?” I said teasingly. I wouldn’t have asked that of an older client, but there was no reason he should be bothered by it and I could always turn it into a sexy game later. Twenty-eight kisses along his body or whatever…
He grinned. “Old enough to drink this beer.”
I laughed. “I mean, I figured that much. But that doesn’t really narrow it down for me.”
“Well…” he said, mischief in his eyes. “That wouldn’t have been a true statement yesterday.”
I took a swig from the bottle.
Oh yeah, I’m definitely getting jackhammered into a headboard.
I was supposed to fuck a twenty-one-year-old?
Ophelia had seen his background check and didn’t warn me. She was out there cackling somewhere as she imagined my reaction.
Why did the thought of being a cradle-robbing dirty old lady turn me on so much? I was only thirty-four, but the gap between twenty-one and thirty-four felt a million miles wide.
I only realized I hadn’t responded when he nudged my shoulder. “That a problem?”
God, there was nothing childish about that voice of his. Or those forearms.
“Of course not…” I said emphatically, wanting to reassure him.
“Is it a problem if it’s my first time?” Now his blue eyes were searching mine.
“Your first time with a pro?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant.
