Chapter 1

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It was finally a Friday and the October sun reared its cheerful head through a window I didn't recognize. Once again, I had woken up in a bed that was not my own. Funnily enough, when I probed my foggy brain for clues to my whereabouts, the first image to surface was a plate of chicken tacos. Damn delicious tacos, if I wasn't mistaken, and that's when I remembered I had said yes to Shane. Or was his name Shawn? Either way, I knew the guy was a chef, listened to classic rock, and used his skilled fingers for more than stuffing tacos. 

Most people would curse themselves for behaving so irresponsibly, desperately filling the blanks of the previous night's debauchery, but I wasn't most people, and I welcomed the afterglow of unrestricted sex. Who would have thought popsicles could be so useful in the bedroom? The guy was a supreme lay, whatever his name was.

The sheet slipped off my breasts as I sat up, exposing my nipples to the cold room, and I palmed my size D's as I took in my surroundings; shiny black dresser in art deco style, ladder back chair littered with clothing, and a male voice singing from the recesses of a powder blue bathroom. Was it Shane aka Shawn butchering Hotel California as he lathered up his family jewels? There was only one way to find out.

Rolling out of bed, I stretched toward the ceiling, forcing air from my joints in a chorus of satisfying pops. Too many people overlooked the importance of an early morning stretch, which ranked up there with brushing teeth and taking a pee. I went for my toes next, the parts of my anatomy I still intended to reach. I definitely inherited a voluptuous gene from someone in my family tree. I had no idea who it was, since my branch got severed long before my boobs grew in.

I was jonesing for a cup of coffee, but I made for the bathroom first to investigate the karaoke god, padding across the cold floorboards as he switched to Take it to the Limit. The leanly-built shadow behind the shower curtain told me my morning was shaping up to be just as debaucherous as my evening, and a delicious shiver traveled from my belly southward. 

Grabbing a handful of plastic, I slid the curtain away and the singing stopped, giving my ears a reprieve as I drank in the striking lines of a man who had inherited a hotness gene. He offered an honest smile, unembarrassed that I'd caught him in the middle of his Eagle's tribute as he pulled me under the warm spray.

"Good morning, beautiful," he crooned. "Care to join me for a duet?"

"I don't sing." And neither do you. "But I wouldn't mind helping you clean those hard to reach places."

He chuckled as he held me to his chest, stiffening against my navel. "I like you, kid. You make me laugh."

I ignored his dig about our age difference. Who cared if he was approaching forty and I was looking at twenty-five in the rearview mirror. He was hot and I was horny. Besides, he would be history after today. "Would you like me to make you come?"

Groaning, he grabbed my ass and dug his hard-on into my pelvis. "How do you suggest we handle that? The condoms are next to my bed."

"We won't need one for this." Wearing a wicked grin, I knelt in front of him, grateful I had stretched properly, and proceeded to get the morning started with a bang. Coffee was a pale substitute for the rejuvenating properties of sex.

~ ~ ~

With my camera bag slung over my shoulder and my convenience store coffee in hand, I said goodbye to Shane (confirmed via his contact info in my cellphone). He had been kind enough to walk me to the subway entrance, and I thanked him for showing a girl a good time with a kiss on his aftershave-infused cheek. 

He asked if we'd see each other again, and I reminded him it was inevitable since I would need his input on the photos I'd taken of his new restaurant on the Upper East Side. I knew he was fishing for a date, and that was something I couldn't give him. It wouldn't be fair. Shane was a nice guy, and I was not a nice girl.

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