The guy blinked, recalculating. “C’mon, babe,” he tried, his free hand slipping toward my ass. “I’ve got cash.”
Jesus.
“And I’ve got a security company on standby. In the event that you keep breathing on me.”
He released me, muttered some insult to my ancestry, and slunk back into the sea of moving bodies. Well, that’d been fun. Maybe I should have asked if he liked his grinding with a sideof sloppy. Or maybe I shouldn’t have come here with the day’s overload still pulling at me—city noise, cab horns, sidewalks like a conveyor belt for the human masses. I reached for my drink.
“Charming guy,” a wry voice commented from my left, just loud enough that I caught it. I glanced over and found White Henley studying me, amusement dancing across his face. “Guess that wasn’t your typical client base?”
He was…Wow. Now that I got a decent look at him? Easily the most interesting guy in the room, with broad shoulders and a lean waist, watchful eyes that might be green in decent lighting, one corner of his mouth hinting at a private joke. And, right—he’d caught the whole thing.
Something ridiculous tugged at my belly, humid warmth and mezcal and a long fucking day.Here goes nothing.
I slid one stool over, settling right next to him, and lifted my glass in a lazy salute. “Yeah, well. Haven’t checked the open market in a while.” Not a lie given I’d been with Travis for the last ten months, give or take. “Good to know there’s still some enthusiasm.”
“Enthusiasm.” He sampled the word like another sip of whiskey, then huffed out a laugh. “Okay, I’ll bite. Do you actually have an agent or was that just to get the guy off your back?”
“Trade secret.”
He chuckled, leaning an elbow on the bar as he turned fully toward me. “And the going rate—three hundred plus, you said? Or is that another trade secret?”
“Depends.” I let my gaze flick down his chest and back up to the amused tilt of his lips. A game. I could play for a few minutes longer, have some actualfuntonight, before I finished my drink and went back to my lonely hotel room. “Specials Monday through Wednesday, premium for weekends. Surcharge for pet names.”
“Fair.” The twitch of his mouth felt like a reward. “What about first-contact discounts?”
Ha. I bumped his knee with mine. “Why—you interested?”
“Academic curiosity.”
“That’s what they all say.” I swished the liquid in my glass and slid him a grin, a mildly disbelieving laugh bubbling in my stomach. “I’ll give you twenty minutes of free conversation—a sample, so to speak. Because I like you.”
“People pay for the talking part?” A quick, clever look told me he was still trying to figure me out, not fully buying just yet what I was selling. Figuratively. Literally?
“What do you think?” I shot back.
“Hmm.” He stretched it into a hum that buzzed at the base of my spine, a deliberate delay as he assessed me. “Yeah. I can see why they would.”
Take that, Travis.
I offered a handshake as if we were sealing a deal. “Twenty minutes, then. Name’s Finn, by the way—in the interest of avoiding pet names.”
“Jesse,” he said, with the kind of smile that doubted I’d given him something real. His palm was dry and warm against mine. I was first to pull away.
“So,Jesse.” I lingered on the name. “Any questions to kick us off?”
He studied me over the rim of his bourbon glass, the liquid catching sparks. “Okay, give me your expert opinion. Best lay in the room?”
Unintentionally funny given he had roughly five years on me, and likely double my numbers. If not triple.
I raised a meaningful brow. “Fishing for compliments?”
“Other than me.” Wry and amused, mostly dismissed as par-for-the-course flattery when it wasn’t.
“Well, all right. Let’s see.” I pretended to survey the room with the air of a dissatisfied art critic. “Black tee with the cartoon sleeve is a candidate, but don’t expect a reach-around. Or the blond guy at the far end of the bar—he’s got rhythm. Looks like he rehearses in front of a mirror, though. All in all…” I sipped. “Four out of ten, would not shortlist as clients.”
Jesse laughed, head tipping back slightly so the light behind the bar washed his throat in blue and green. “Harsh.”
“But do you disagree?”
