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I purse my lips together and concede. "Fine. One date, Daniel." I give him my cell phone number. "And by the way, I don't put out on the first date, so don't try and get frisky."
I'm totally joking, but he seems taken aback by my comment.
Oh well.
* * *
"You have three options," Daniel says.
It’s Friday night and I’m not really looking forward to a dinner date after my last-minute Valentina job. I can still smell the distinctive scent of cocaine that dusts my breasts. Sweet and a little floral—no chemical smell. The client licked off the remnants so there shouldn't be any left, but I can still smell it. He was an easy wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, let-me-snort-some-rails-off-your-body-while-I-come quickie. He kept offering me lines to do off his dick, but I declined politely. He seemed to enjoy every second of my time he bought and came four times in that hour. I didn’t even come once. I just couldn't get off.
Christine had texted me earlier in the afternoon. One hour, six thousand dollars. How could I say no?
"We could go to a nice candlelit restaurant and order a bottle of wine," Daniel continues as I take in his appearance.
The last two times we’ve met, he was in light green scrubs. Tonight, he’s dressed in black dress pants and an eggplant-colored, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His dark hair is messy and loose, perfect to run my fingers through.
"If you don't like that option, we can go to a sports bar and eat greasy burgers and drink beer." His eyes gleam with excitement, and dammit I start feeling it too. "Or, we can hang here and do shots, then stumble to get pizza."
"Wow, Daniel, you really know how to woo a lady," I say, my tone full of sarcasm, and I fan myself like I'm hot. "The choices are difficult. How will I ever choose?"
He chuckles and I feel it in my bones. A shiver travels down my spine as my smile grows.
"I feel like I'm supposed to go for the first option, but…"
Daniel's shoulders shift and he purses his lips. "It's respectable." He doesn’t seem too keen on the idea, even if it was his suggestion.
"I'm not really a respectable girl."
He lets out a boisterous laugh and I find myself laughing with him. If he only knew just two hours before I’d had a John’s dick deep in my pussy while he fucked me like a porn star.
"I say we do shots and get pizza. Call it a hunch, but I have a feeling we both had a long week and need to let loose."
"I like your style," he says, and turns to the bartender to order two shots of tequila.
The shots are set in front us a moment later, and Daniel boldly takes my hand and licks the space between my thumb and forefinger, then dusts it with salt.
"To new beginnings?" I suggest when he hands me a shot glass and a lime.
"To new beginnings, and those shoes you're wearing that are fucking killing me."
I grin, loving the sound of his thick, brassy city accent, and we tap glasses. We lick the salt, down the shot, and suck the lime.
Three shots in and I feel too good. Not drunk, but I'm not far from it. Daniel’s holding me to his side, embracing me while we stand at the bar and talk. I'm slightly taller than him in my heels, and while he's not built with muscle, he's not soft either.
"You smell good," I say, feeling the liquor coat my veins. "I want to take a bite out of you."
Daniel laughs and it's good-hearted. "You're so cute. Want another shot?"
"No, but you should have one."
I’d taken half a pill earlier before my job, and I'm still flying high and feeling great.
He eyes me and I'm grinning. I can't help it. When I get like this, all I do is smile and laugh.
"I have a feeling you're a bad influence. Like that one friend who is always encouraging her friends to do bad things when they shouldn't."
I give him a sly smile and pretend to zip my lips. "I don't kiss and tell."
