Page 11 of Boss Abroad

Wait, what? I’m not the best flirter, but the way he’s throwing me off my game and giving me whiplash is disconcerting and not at all usual.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I close it again.

I can’t think of a comeback. What’s the matter with me? I always have a comeback.

My throat is parched, my tongue has turned to sandpaper, and my glass hasn't got a drop left to help soothe this feeling. Think, woman, think. Say something.

I don’t and he swallows a laugh along with some whiskey, then carries on talking. “And how come it has been eventful if you arrived this morning and slept most of the day?” God’s gift to women and a good listener too? Sorry, Cal, can’t help but get a bit suspicious here. The man’s gotta be a serial killer or something.

“Well, I lost my phone on my first day in London. But I got a hot date out of it too.” Yassss, girl! I got my mojo back.

Flirting lightens the mood and evens the field.

“So you think I’m hot?” Liam doesn’t have the grace to sound surprised or raise a single eyebrow. I’ve just called him hot, and he called me out on it in the same inquiring tone as the questions before. Always assertive, leading the conversation.

Fuck it. Tequila, take the wheel.

“You are.” I try to mirror his indifference when I give it to him straight. “And you’re too hot not to damn well know it, too. So don’t play coy with me. Every woman here… correction, every human being here knows you’re hot.”

My bluntness awards me with another sexy laugh and I might consider a career as a comedian just to keep Liam laughing for me.

There’s a slight raising of his eyebrows too and a post-laugh mini smile lingers on his lips. Guess I’ve finally taken him by surprise. I’ll savor that win, considering I've been feeling off my game this whole time. I just hope he can't tell.

Time flies as I drink another three margaritas and nibble some of the best food of my life. Liam is extremely easy to talk to and we’ve made each other laugh and blush the whole evening. Fine, the blushing was all me. The combination of alcohol, Liam and my unheard of disposition to be spontaneous have me feeling all hot and bothered.

His baritone voice surrounds me and wraps us in a bubble. An undertone of authority pulls me in, commanding my undivided attention. I hang on to his every word. Liam could quiz me by the end of the night and I’d ace that test. I’m enraptured by the depth of his tone. It’s so thick, so rich, I lick my bottom lip, hoping I can taste it. His voice calls to me and I inch my chair closer, craving the sound, wanting to hear him better. Then I suppress a possibly drunk smile, thinking I can suddenly relate to the big bad wolf at the same time I feel like being eaten.

‘Rein it in’, my own voice chastises me. The harshness of it sobers me up a little. Tequila and his good looks are to blame for making me lose grasp of reality. That's all this is. Happily ever afters only happen in fairy tales and I've seen first-hand how brutal real life is. So I sip my water instead and renew the vows I made to myself long ago and have lived by since: have fun and get back to work. That's who I'll end up with.

Liam checks the time and asks if I would like to go to a bar with a proper tequila list.

Had this been a bad date, I’d still tolerate a boring man in the name of ‌tequila. But this is Liam. The damn fine Liam, the why-so-gorgeous Liam, the you-should-be-on-Magic-Mike’s-cast Liam.

So my answer is an obvious yes that I need to stop myself from shouting or moaning to him.

CHAPTER SIX

liam

Someone, please give this woman an Oscar. This is the first time I’ve ever had to keep reminding myself that the person across from me is an escort. And I’ve been making a real effort to impress her. Repeatedly.

The way April speaks about her life, the amount of detail she provides, and what she can almost convince me are true feelings, are throwing me off. She’s quite invested in the persona she created for tonight, and I applaud her dedication. What an actress.

Truth be told, it’s been quite a while since I’ve had this much fun on a date, fake or not. I’m thoroughly entertained by her stories.

April looks younger than I usually go for—I have no patience or interest in rookies—but this woman can hold her ground and I’m not about to fact-check her age. The agency knows my preferences and while I’m happy to pay for sex, I’d never engage with a business that works with underage girls.

Brooke’s done a good job picking and preparing April. She’s intelligent and bloody gorgeous, with long brown hair that she’s constantly playing with or twirling around her finger. I wonder how many times I can wrap it around my wrist.

She has big, captivating green eyes and huge tits that not even this surprisingly conservative dress for an escort could ever hide. There’s a promise of a great body lying underneath all that fabric.

April seized my attention the moment she entered this place, and I hoped she was my company for the night. I couldn’t stop staring, feeling more excited than I should’ve when she waltzed her way to my table.

Everything out of her pouty lips fascinates me and I feel goddamn stupid forgetting every once in a while she’s a professional.

I’m going to have a fucking feast on those lips later. I can’t wait to lick, bite, and suck on them. On all of her. Just the thought of it makes me adjust myself in my pants.

Clearly, I’ve been possessed by the spirit of a horny teenager, because all I can think about is how I’m about to fuck her ten ways to Sunday. I might break this tiny woman when I do, but I’ll make sure she’ll go with a smile on those lips.