guilt on her part. Besides, what was the point of big breasts if they couldn’t be put to good use at a time like this? Why not act like a tease and take advantage of the opportunity being presented to her?
Lorelei contemplated all her choices for a moment, turned them over in her mind to see all the angles. Pondered briefly which approach would make her feel less deceitful and guilty in the morning. Then she came to a conclusion: It was time to get her slut on.
Pasting a hopefully sultry smile on her face, she placed her hands on her waist and cocked her hip. “You’re right. The night is still so full of possibilities. It’d be a shame to waste it. What do you say we make it one to remember?”
Flat-footed in her sneakers, she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. Mark Cutter was an imposing man. But he wasn’t so imposing at the moment with that mildly shocked expression he wore. Obviously he hadn’t expected her to take him up on the offer. Well, too bad for him. The man should have kept his sexy mouth shut. Because now that she’d been presented with this avenue of attack, she was darn well going to take it.
Lorelei stared leisurely down his body and back up again. Even in the dark sweater and jeans she could tell he was all muscle and fit, gorgeous body. It wasn’t hard to appear appreciative—she most definitely was. A woman would have to be dead not to feel a temperature spike at what he had.
Bringing her eyes back up to meet his, she waited for him to respond to her boldness. It didn’t take long.
“By the way you bailed out of the bar I wouldn’t have guessed you for that type of woman.”
She wasn’t that type of woman, but she sure as hell was going to act like it tonight. “I’m complex.”
“Is that so?”
His gaze had dropped to her hands. Good. It meant she had his attention. Sliding them slowly over the soft cotton of her shirt, she moved them down her hips, then up to her ribs and back. “What do you think of my T-shirt? Do you like it?”
She felt a bit ridiculous saying that, but she was trying to be provocative. She had her slut on, darn it. They said things like that—all kinds of trashy pickup lines. And she had some good ones stored up.
Lorelei watched his gaze follow her hands before they broke contact. The corner of his mouth lifted and he smirked as he stared at the slogan smeared across her chest.
“Makes me wonder if you’re the kinda girl who really digs everything.”
Nice. Now she was a naughty slut. “Yeah? You think?”
He raked a hand through his hair and nodded. “It’s kinda hot.”
Lorelei smiled at him through her lashes and tossed out another line. “Take me back to your place, darlin’, and I’ll show you hot.”
His stare was amused and speculative at the same time. “Oh yeah?”
She had a killer comeback for that and pushed her chest out a little more, let her voice go all soft and husky. “I’ll ride you so hard you’ll walk bowlegged for a week.”
Mark Cutter’s smile was lightning-quick, twice as wicked, and she felt those darn butterflies in her stomach again.
“Wow. I thought only guys had cheesy pickup lines like that. Does that one ever work for you?”
They were cheesy lines, for sure. Velveeta-style, smooth and creamy. “You’ll have to let me know in the morning.”
His eyebrow lifted and he took a step closer to her. The butterflies turned into grasshoppers on crack and Lorelei had to fight the urge to scramble backward.
A big, warm hand cupped her chin and he said, “Is that so?”
A tremble vibrated down her spine at his touch, but she stood her ground. “By the way, I take my coffee with sugar.” Not that she had any intention of being there in the morning, but that one was true.
Heck no, she planned on being on her way home to Loveland with the money she was going to earn tonight. And she was earning it. It wasn’t so easy playing the tramp.
Mark tilted his head to the side and laughed as he studied her. “Okay, Ms. Rodeo. What’s your name?”
Lorelei took a deep breath. “I’m Fonda.”
“Fonda what?”
She looked him square in the eye and lied. “Fonda Peters.”
His hand dropped and so did his jaw. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re Fonda