Love is Blind

“All right.” I slipped out of my pea coat and draped it over the empty chair. Since time was money, I asked politely, “Did you want to stay here or go to your bedroom?”

He rubbed his chin. “Well, if we stay down here, we’ll have to put up with Fiona’s questionable presence. She can be a little gassy at times, and she won’t leave that spot. That I guarantee. Once she’s settled in front of the fire, she might never move.”

I laughed. “She does look very comfortable.”

He smiled. “What’s your name?”

“Beau Dexter.”

“Fancy.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me all right.” I smirked. “I thought about wearing my top hat, but I decided against it because it was so windy.”

He laughed. “Good thinking.”

“So, did you decide if you’d rather go to your bedroom?”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know if the agency explained that I like to talk first.”

“Uh, no, they didn’t mention that. It’s fine though. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“It’s just that I prefer to get to know the person I’m going to fuck. We may be strangers, but what we’re going to do is still very intimate.”

“I agree.” I wasn’t used to people being so blunt. But, after all, sex was why I was here. This wasn’t a book club meeting. “For the money you’re paying you could paint my nails for all I care.”

“Do you want a drink?” He stood, and I noticed he was slightly taller than me, with wide shoulders and long legs. The flickering fire cast shadows on his angular features. He was handsome in an aristocratic sort of way, with high cheekbones and a strong jaw. “Some of the guys prefer to be buzzed when they screw. Is that how you are when you fuck?”

Again, I was surprised by the way he kept referring so bluntly to sex. His words were pointed and almost crude. I couldn’t shake the feeling he was doing that on purpose. It was as if he was trying to keep all personal feelings out of it. By referring to sex as “fucking” and “screwing,” he made what we were about to do less intimate. I had to wonder why that was important to him.

“I prefer my senses to be unaffected if that’s alright.” I had nothing against having a few drinks with a client, but when I didn’t know them I preferred to be completely sober. “It’s best for you too if I don’t drink. I’ll be more in tune to you and your needs if I don’t imbibe.”

“Huh, a man with a good work ethic. How refreshing.” His tone was sardonic.

It seemed in addition to speaking crudely he wanted to use humor as a defense mechanism as well. The more I got to know Seth, the more I wanted to break through that wall he was working so hard to erect.

I moved a bit closer and said in a flirty voice, “To be honest, it feels better for me too if I’m not drunk.”

He inhaled sharply, but then said gruffly, “You actually enjoy sex with your clients?”

“Depends on the client.”

He chuffed. “Interesting. A whore who actually likes to fuck and turns down a drink.”