Perfect Ten Read Free Page B

was losing my patience at that point. What was I, a horse? Was she going to check my teeth next? I stared down at her with what I thought was a menacing glare, but she continued to examine me anyway.
    “Gorgeous green eyes. They’re almost too bright. Nice strong jaw. Love the longer locks on you too, cutie. Maybe it’s that dark hair that makes your eyes shine so brightly.”
    I pulled out of her grasp with a jerk of my head, but remembered to remain polite. “Thank you, I’m glad…”
    “Shhh.” She put her finger on my lips. “I’m not done yet.” She ran her hands up my chest, over my shoulders, and down my arms, squeezing as she went. She shivered, which frankly creeped me out a little. “Ah yes. Very nice. I see I’ll be getting my money’s worth.”
    Oh, hell no. I’d be having none of that. “Ma’am”—I added that to draw attention to our age difference—not that she cared—“I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking, but I’m not here to have sex. I was told I was escorting you to a funeral.”
    “Well, yes, but then we’ll come back here, no?”
    “We can do just about anything you like for the six hours, but as the contract states, physical relations are not part of my service.” She stuck out her lip, which made me flash back to Sophia, except that I did not feel like sucking on this woman’s lip. At all. There was something about her that wasn’t quite right. Oh, she was attractive enough, her age didn’t matter to me, but something was off.
    “Whatever you say, cupcake. Let’s go.” On the way to the door, she leisurely rubbed her ass up against me, and to my frustration, the big guy took notice. She must have felt me twitch, because she stopped and rubbed against me again, which made the big guy twitch again. I am obviously not the master of my dick. She looked at me over her shoulder with a knowing smile. Sliding her hand behind her, she gently caressed me through my pants. “Oh, we’ll be getting naked later.”
    Well, damn. Maybe I was a man-whore, because I couldn’t wait to get back.

    * * *
    B eing at the funeral cured me and my big guy—at least for a little while. This woman was disgusting and, as I mentioned before, ruthless. We were at the funeral of her ex-husband. You believe that shit? At first, I thought she was there to support her children, who were already standing beside the casket, but I was wrong. The reason she paid for such a young escort was that she wanted to show me off to her ex-husband’s wife. To make it worse, she walked up to the widow with a huge smile on her face, not even acknowledging her children.
    Running her hand down my back to settle on my ass, she introduced me. “Whitney, this is Joe. Joe, this is the whore who stole my husband.” She pointed to the two kids standing next to her. They were both older teenagers by my guess. “And those are my kids.”
    My heart lurched at her callous words. I was completely speechless. How could anyone be so disrespectful—and in front of their own children? Hell, I myself was a smart-ass, but not in a million years would I ever disrespect someone at a funeral. So I did what anyone should do at a funeral. I reached out and grasped Whitney’s hand.
    “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Turning to the kids, I said the same thing.
    To her credit, Whitney didn’t respond to Samantha’s insult. Not directly at least. “Thank you.” She pulled me in for a quick hug and whispered, “Watch your back with that one.”
    The kids both mumbled responses, and we moved down the line, taking seats in the back row of the church.
    I had nothing to say to Samantha the Bitch, so I sat silently in the pew. Before too long, I felt her hand on my thigh. I decided to leave it there instead of causing a scene. During one of the readings, she slipped her hand under my suit jacket and inched her way down to my dick. That little fucker started stirring again!
    “Samantha,” I hissed at her. “Stop touching