Page 90 of Touch Me

I just found my new man.

It was a pity I couldn’t go to him as me—Jane Nichols. That would be an interesting turn of events. But did I really want to risk it? My naughty twin had a much better track record than I did. Besides, I enjoyed what Memphis got up to—why change now?

He picked up his briefcase. “See you tomorrow then.”

“Bye.” I wanted to say I’ll see you in a few hours.

As I watched him walk away, I wondered if he would be the man with whom I’d lose my casual-sex virginity. He seemed kind and gentle, and with more than three years without sex, kind and gentle were exactly what I needed.

Once I was certain he’d gone, I returned to reception and searched for Brent’s details in the index cards. Brent Neilson lived in Brisbane, one hour’s drive north of here. He was thirty-five years old, and he’d checked in alone. That made Mr. Perfect Hands perfect for what I wanted.

But if I went up to him now, even in my disguise, he may become suspicious. In addition to that, he knew when I finished, so if I went up right after my shift, it could also give away my real identity. If I was to keep my naughty alter-ego a secret and make him believe he was just lucky that Memphis had found him, then I had to go to him at a completely different time.

It wasn’t like I didn’t have time. After my shift ended, I usually just went up to my room and slept for eight or so hours.

Maybe I could see him in the afternoon. It would certainly be different doing Memphis at a different time.

I was toying with the possibilities until Needledick arrived to take over my shift. He was only ten minutes late today. . . a fucking miracle. We did our usual morning handover and said goodbye, then I took the elevator up to my room.

I opened the blinds, and when I saw how beautiful it was outside, I decided to go for a run instead of crawling into bed.

Ten minutes later, I jogged along the concrete path that ran parallel to the beach. I headed toward Cavill Avenue, in the center of Surfers Paradise. People were everywhere. Young families were out in force, which wasn’t surprising, given the extra-long weekend and the fabulous weather.

To avoid the crowd, I took the elevated wooden ramp to the beach and hit the sand.

I made my way down to the firmer sand and started jogging again. The tide was coming in, so I had to dodge the surging waves to avoid getting my shoes wet. The repetitive roar of the tumbling ocean was refreshing, and I felt an unprecedented urge to do cartwheels or something crazy like that. I resisted, though, as images of me face-planting in the sand whizzed through my mind.

The scenery was stunning, and the weather was perfect. People paid thousands of dollars to have this view. Once again, I was reminded of how lucky I was.

And since I’d created my alter-ego, my life was now exciting.

My mind drifted to Brent and his wonderful hands, and how I planned to visit him in a few hours. Well, not exactly me, but my horny twin.

By four this afternoon, he should have finished his rest, and I won’t have to wake him up.

As I left the beach and continued my run along the path, I spied a pharmacy on the corner.

Condoms! I made a beeline for the store.

I’d never bought condoms before. The three men I’d had sex with had always supplied them. I entered the store and scanned the shelves for what I wanted. Two aisles and way too many minutes later, I found them.

As I ogled the abundant choice, I felt the man behind the counter staring at me. I couldn’t decide if he was checking me out, worried that I’d steal something, or secretly laughing at me.

I picked up box after box and studied what they had to offer.

I had no idea there were so many options. Condoms came in different sizes, shapes, flavors, textures, colors, and materials.

Just choosing the size alone was impossible.

What if I embarrass the guy I finally want to have sex with?

I was scrutinizing a packet of Durex Pleasure Me condoms when a smoking-hot young man with glowing, suntanned skin and a shaggy mop of curly blond hair sidled up next to me. He smelled of sea salt and suntan lotion and smiled a big surfer’s smile before he clicked his tongue at me, reached for a packet of Real Feel condoms, and then swaggered toward the counter.

After he left the store, I decided his choice was good enough for me, and grabbed the identical type of condoms and marched to the counter to pay.

With my prized possession in a paper bag, I returned to the Hot Horizon Hotel.

By the time I’d showered and eaten a ham and avocado sandwich, I was well and truly ready for sleep.