Breathless_ Steel Brothers Saga - HELEN HARDT Page 0,14
but you are definitely not an Alice”—I eyeballed the nametag she still wore—“Heidi.”
“Okay, fine. We’ll play it your way. Come in, Bob.”
I entered the modest studio apartment. The queen-size bed in the corner was neatly made, and my gaze zeroed in on it.
That was where I’d fuck this woman.
My groin was tight.
“You want a drink, Bob?”
“Sure. Bourbon if you have it.”
“I do. Not crazy about it myself, but I keep everything on hand.” She walked into her kitchenette and pulled a bottle out of a cupboard.
“What are you having?” I asked.
“I don’t drink.”
“Really? And you work at a bar?”
“Precisely why I don’t drink. I smoke a little weed, though. You want some?”
I shook my head. “Never enjoyed it.”
She handed me the bourbon in a half-pint mason jar. Cute. “You mind if I have a little? Just helps me unwind. Get in the mood.”
“Uh…sure. Whatever.”
She pulled out a black jar from her refrigerator and then grabbed a pipe out of a drawer. “Make yourself at home.”
Again I eyed the bed. We both knew why I was here. If I took a seat there, we could move forward quickly.
But I couldn’t do it. I sat down on the love seat across the room and set my drink on the end table.
“Wait,” she said. “Let me get you a coaster.”
I nodded. Nice. A small place, but she took pride in it. Bed made. Coasters.
She set down the coaster and then sat beside me. She pulled a small amount of weed out of the jar and placed it in the pipe. Then she lit up.
I held off inhaling for as long as I could. I detested the smell of weed. To me, it hovered somewhere between roasting green chilies and blue cheese. I loved the smell of roasted green chilies. I hated the smell of blue cheese. Totally ruined the smoky scent of the chilies.
But I’d come here to get laid, and if a few tokes put her more in the mood, all the better. I’d deal.
The smoke from her pipe rose above our heads.
“So what’s your story, Bob?” she asked.
“Just looking for a good time. You?”
“Same.” She inhaled, holding the smoke inside her lungs for several seconds.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Does it matter as long as I’m over eighteen?”
She was way over eighteen. “Just wondering.”
“Thirty-three. You?”
“Thirty-eight.”
She nodded, taking another toke from the pipe.
“Ever married?” I asked.
“Twice. Both losers. The last one nearly put me in the hospital. Had to get a restraining order.”
Shit. What had I walked into?
“You?” she asked.
“Once.”
“Got kids?”
“One. You?”
“Nope. Can’t. Bad endometriosis.”
A little TMI there, but at least I didn’t have to worry about knocking her up. Not that I was worried anyway. There would definitely be a condom involved in this little fuckfest.
She set her pipe down, emptying the ashes onto a ceramic plate and grinding them out. Good. The smell would start to dissipate now.
“Here’s the deal,” she said. “I’ll blow you for twenty-five. You can fuck me for fifty, and you can fuck my ass for seventy-five.”
I shot my brow upward. She was a hooker? A fucking hooker?
I stood, my groin still tight. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”
She let out a raucous laugh. “Kidding, Bob. Just kidding. Do I look like a prostitute to you?”
She really didn’t want me to answer that honestly.
“You think any hooker worth her salt would let you into her apartment without seeing the money first? Oh, man. You should see the look on your face!”
“Uh…”
“And by the way, no one fucks my ass, so if that was your plan, you can go quietly.”
Hadn’t been my plan, but I remained standing. “I think I changed my mind, Heidi.”
“Bob, I was fucking with you. Can’t you take a joke?”
I was four-plus bourbons in with a hard-on for another woman. All I wanted was a fuck. This conversation hadn’t been part of the bargain.
But she stood, forwardly cupping the bulge in my jeans. “Sure you want to go?”
I wasn’t sure at all. The only thing I was damned sure of was that she was a poor substitute for Marjorie Steel.
But she was a substitute, and she was willing to let me fuck her.
I walked toward the bed. “Coming?”
Chapter Nine
Marjorie
“Talon!” I banged on the door of his bedroom. I could hear the whoosh of the shower. I turned the knob on the door and then banged again on the bathroom door. “Talon! I need you!”
The shower shut off, and Talon appeared at the door, a towel around his waist. “What is it?”