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But she’s really blossomed over the last few years. She’s not only matured, but she’s grown into her body, with lush breasts, a small waist and wide hips. I haven’t seen her since before she went away to college, but it seems she’s truly a woman now. I’m looking at her now and there is no resemblance to that awkward teenage girl anymore. No, she is a beautiful young lady waiting at a bar for me.
And working as an escort, I remind myself. An escort who my friend paid to be my date tonight. What the fuck am I supposed to do here?
Without rationally analyzing the situation, I abruptly throw caution to the wind and decide to approach her. Lucy senses my presence and spins on the barstool with a charming smile plastered to her face. That’s before her mouth drops open and the color drains from her cheeks.
“Uncle Shane?” she manages in a stammer. “Oh shit!”
I can see the wheels turning and crashing rapidly in her mind as she tries to process what I already know. We’re here for a date … with each other. But the worst part is that I’m actually looking forward to it. Sure, my emotions are tinged with a heavy dose of guilt, but she’s just so gorgeous. Plus, as dirty as this sounds, I liked hearing “Uncle Shane” slip out of her sensual mouth. The words turned me on like no other. I must be one fucked up son of a bitch. Thank god Lucy is a psychology major because maybe she can help fix me. Still, I can’t help but imagine that sexy voice calling me Daddy instead. Damn. I need to stop this.
“What are you doing here?” she asks in a befuddled voice, snapping me out of my fantasy. She’s clearly hoping that by some miracle I am not the “Reed” she’s meeting and that my standing here is just a cruel coincidental joke the universe is playing on her. But I have to clear this up.
“Since when did you start going by Rose?” I ask her point blank, my eyebrows raised.
Her face flushes with embarrassment, but I’m just happy to see some color return. I was beginning to worry she was going to faint on me.
“Um … um,” she says, now going a deep red.
“Can I sit?” I ask her, gesturing to the chair next to hers at the bar.
“Yes, of course. Please sit,” she mutters, refusing to look into my eyes.
I take a seat beside her and we sit there in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to proceed. But to tell you the truth, I already know what I want. I want Lucy Pratt. I want her tonight, and I want to let go of all my inhibitions with this young, sexy, curvy girl. Why not? Fate has dropped her in my hands, and I’m a man who makes the most of my opportunities.
4
Lucy
I just discovered that my client for the night is Shane Reed, my dad’s best friend. Oh shit. What do I do?
Now, we’re sitting awkwardly together at the bar, unsure what to say although my heart is going double-time. After all, I was blown away when I saw him and not just from his surprise appearance. I’ve always thought that Uncle Shane was a good-looking man, with his night-black hair and devastating blue eyes. I just never had express permission to look at him in that way because he’s my dad’s age!
But now, I can see his athletic physique bulging through his suit tonight. His strong jaw and mobile mouth have me practically melting in my seat. I try to think of something neutral to talk about, namely, something to get my mind off the possibility of getting in bed with him - a thought that is so unspeakably wrong yet absolutely yummy.
I search for words that might make this feel like a more natural situation. But I fail, so I stammer something nonsensical out.
“Wow,” I say.
He grins, looking at me sideways.
“Wow, indeed,” he murmurs. Then, I decide to go for it.
“What are you doing hiring an escort Uncle Shane? You don’t need to buy girls!” I finally manage.
He throws his head back in a deep laugh. At least the ice is broken.
“Apparently, I’m a hard man to shop for,” is all he offers as explanation. I look at him sideways.
“It was a gag gift for my birthday,” he finally says.
“Oh, that makes a lot more sense,” I respond before taking another sip of my drink. I feel myself start to blush again. Of course he doesn’t need to hire a date; I bet he has ladies throwing themselves at him right and left. A sexy, rich, successful man like Shane Reed surely has no trouble pulling women.
“But I have a few questions for you,” he counters, arching his eyebrow into an amused look. Oh no, it’s coming. “What are you doing working as an escort, sweetheart? Does your dad know about this?”
