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I’m thinking Tiffany works with her body for a living, but in a very different way.
“What do you do for a living?” Mark asks, making conversation.
“I do camera work,” she says with a wink. He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions.
Smart man.
My blood pounds like an electromagnetic pulse pointed straight up the coast to Lindsay’s father’s compound. The same wind that brushes my hair forward is the wind that blows on her face right now. Is she outside, staring at the stars? Looking at the ocean? Sleeping? Thinking of me and touching herself?
I’m already throbbing and have a piece of granite in my pants. Letting my mind wander doesn’t take any effort and it feels loose and fine. All the tightness left me long ago, the world swimming before my eyes. I could stare at the moon forever.
I could stare at Lindsay for even longer.
Why’d she lie for me? Creating that fake intruder story was pure genius. No one suspected she was making it up. Plausible deniability was built in. She was quick on her feet and convincing. Blaine could barely argue. In private, I’ll be crucified, but in public, he had to play the part of the poor politician attacked by some stranger.
By now, some PR person is giving this a positive spin. Hell, by morning Blaine will be hailed as a hero who took a punch or two to save baby kittens from being killed by Godzilla.
Still does nothing to explain why.
Why Lindsay covered for me.
Sure, the satisfaction of watching Blaine bleed was part of it, but not all of it. Lindsay’s acting in erratic ways, though she pulled it together for that stage performance next to the senator and Monica. How can she be that composed, and then fall apart in my lap, followed by such strategic thinking in the moment to cover for my lack of impulse control?
She’s a paradox.
She’s my paradox.
“Hey, you two. I don’t know about you, but I think this could turn out to be the night of my life,” Tiffany says, coming in with a sultry voice and a hand on my ass. I move out of reach. I assume she puts her other one on Mark’s butt, because he jumps and moves away from her.
“Sorry. My fiancée would kill me.”
“She doesn’t have to know.”
Mark cuts me a look that could shatter diamonds.
“I have a girlfriend too, Tiffany,” I lie.
She frowns. “You never mentioned her before.” She’s caressing my ass again and moving close, pressing against me as I twist away. She smells so good, and her skin is soft and hairless. I could sleep with her. Just once. It would feel nice to disappear into someone else for a few minutes.
But I don’t want that.
The only person I want to do that with is Lindsay.
“I don’t share much about my personal life,” I grind out. Mark’s face is so serious. He looks like he’d rather shave his own balls with a rusty razor than stand here with Tiffany and me, talking about threesomes.
Frankly, so would I.
Tiffany sighs, a long, slow sound designed to give Mark and me a chance to change our minds. Her eyes jump between us, and then she drops her head slightly in defeat.
“The good ones are always taken. I hope your women appreciate you.”
I cringe inside, but keep my face neutral.
“Right.”
Mark gives me a neutral look and starts to walk back inside my apartment. “Carrie’s waiting for me.” He gives Tiffany a polite smile. “Nice to meet you, Tiffany.”
“You got a brother, Mark? Maybe he and I...”
