Propositioning Love

“Fuck off, Roger. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Go to a club or something, Bryce. Go find some young broad to amuse you. I know the celibate lifestyle is not your strong suit. Get out of your head. You need—”

He cuts off when I push the disconnect button.

He’s right, of course. I need to get laid. Need to stick my dick in someone warm and soft that will help me forget. Need to forget about the world around me for just a night.

It’s been a year. A year of self-punishment. And I have no clue what my crime was.

My brain is just too scattered to go to one of the night clubs though.

I keep driving around the city, sometimes hitting the nice ends of town. The current neighborhood though isn’t exactly the best.

Am I looking for danger? Am I looking for excitement? Something to break the cycle of this humdrum life?

Slowing down as I take another right in the middle of this hot and humid city, I see an arm waving up at me almost frantically as a curvy dark-haired woman steps one foot onto the street. She’s obviously waving me down, and for the very life of me I cannot figure out why my foot is pushing on the brake.

Shouldn’t it be pushing the gas? Especially with that guy following her slowly into the street?

What is he, her pimp?

Coming to a full stop on the dark street, I look over to the girl. She’s not older like I originally thought when I was coming up on her. The shadows hid too much of her face, but now I can see her young features.

The passenger door of the BMW I’ve been driving opens and she says, “I hate these stupid apps. I can never figure out if you and I are going the same way or not.”

Well, this is a new one. I’ve never picked up a prostitute before.

Shit. Roger’s words float through my head as I look over her shapely body. Jesus, if curves and breasts could kill, I’d be a dead man.

She is exactly what I should be putting my dick in.

“Does your… uh… friend need…” I start to ask.

Quickly cutting me off, she says, “He’s not my friend.”

Four

Zoe

I’m pretty sure the guy that just picked me up isn’t my driver from the app. For one, his car is too nice. I’ve never been picked up in a BMW before. The cars the app drivers usually drive are budget models, and there’s nothing budget about this vehicle.

There’s nothing budget about this man, either.

Dark suit, tie, and expensive watch. There’s something extremely familiar about him. I swear I’ve seen him somewhere before…but where? Maybe he’s famous?

Once I get my door closed, he pushes the gearshift forward and we’re moving.

Glancing at the rearview mirror, I watch the guy who was harassing me grow smaller and smaller.

Slumping down in my seat, I breathe a sigh of relief.

That was close, too damn close.

“You should probably put your seatbelt on,” Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome says, glancing briefly over at me before returning his eyes to the road.

I shoot him a grateful smile and then point out the window. “Actually, you can just let me out up here. I really appreciate you saving me back there, but I don’t want to further inconvenience you.”

He shoots me a sharp look. “I’m not letting you out on a dark corner.”

I stare at him for a long moment. His eyes are dark and hard as he stares me down. So dark and hard they make me squirm.

“It’s not safe out there,” he adds as if he’s afraid of giving me the wrong impression.

That makes sense, I suppose.

“Oh, okay…” I mumble and reach down to grab the seatbelt.

His eyes whip back to the road.

I fumble nervously with the latch of the seatbelt, wondering what the hell I’m going to do now.

As soon as the belt clicks into place, he yanks the gearshift to the side then back and we burst forward.

The lights of the city streak by and he stares out the windshield with purpose.

It takes me a moment to find my voice again as the gravity of the situation starts to sink in. What have I done? In the heat of the moment, jumping in this car seemed like a good idea, given the alternative.

But now I’m not so sure…

“So, where are we going?”

Turning slightly to face him, I study him. Even cloaked in shadows, I can tell he’s disgustingly handsome. Sharp cheekbones, defined jaw, and full, kissable lips.

“Back to my place,” he answers with a frown, like it should be obvious.

He shoots me another look, but this one isn’t so sharp. No, it’s more confused.

Back to his place? Oh hell no. I’m grateful for his help, but I’m not that grateful. I open my mouth to tell him just that when he reaches over, his hand coming down on my thigh.