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As I lift my own can to take a long swig, my hands itch with the need to teach her a lesson about her foul mouth. I don’t plan to stick around after my meeting with Zach tomorrow. But between now and then, if she continues to pique my interest, I might just grant her the spanking she richly deserves.

“I don’t keep any booze here.”

One sleekly outlined brow lifts. “Afraid you’ll fall off the wagon?” she taunts.

“Yes,” I answer truthfully.

Again, surprise and intrigue slide across her face. “Oh… okay.” Slowly, she reaches out and picks up the soda. One perfectly manicured finger toys with the rim, and something awakens inside me as I watch that finger.

“How long have you been sober?” she asks after a few minutes of silence.

“Ten years, two months, three weeks and five days.”

Her forehead creases for all of three seconds. “You stopped drinking on Christmas Day?” she says, confirming my initial impression of her quick wit. Why she chooses to hide her intelligence behind foul language and an abrasive manner isn’t a subject that particularly interests me. But I find the whole package intriguing nonetheless.

“Yes.”

Her lips twitch, and I can tell she’s dying to ask me more.

The phone I left on the island earlier buzzes, and I step closer as her gaze drops. We both see the message clearly displayed on the screen.

Welcome back, Mr. S. Your usual selection is available when you are.

“Let me guess, that’s your dealer?” she jibes, without excusing herself for reading my message.

I shrug. “Of sorts.”

Her sea-green eyes widen, and I’m thrilled to have surprised her again. She doesn’t seem the sort to be easily shocked. “You don’t drink, but you do drugs?” she asks, condemnation brimming her tone. “Isn’t that swapping one addiction for another?”

“It is if you consider sex an addiction.”

Her mouth drops open, and she flicks a glance at the now dark screen. “So that was your… your…”

“It’s a service I use, yes.” I drain the last of the soda, my eyes tracing the color washing up her neck. “You’re blushing. Does that embarrass you?”

She cracks the top of the soda and pulls back the lid. “That you get your sex through an escort service? Hell, no. Maybe I’m a little embarrassedforyou.” She gulps the soda slightly too fast, and several drops trickle down the side of her mouth. She wipes it with the back of her hand and her color rises higher.

I smile. “Save your sympathy, Keely. I use the service for expediency. And because I detest the mindless games that society has imposed on an act that should have no frivolities.”

Her head tilts to one side, and she slams me with a speaking look. “That your fancy way of saying you don’t want to buy a girl dinner before you fuck her?”

“She can have all the dinner she wants. I just don’t see the need for tedious mores or the need to display false affection before the act.”

“So why not just club her over the head and drag her to your cave?”

“Why do it myself when my service more than meets those particular urges?”

She studies my face to see if I mean it literally. When she looks away, I can’t decide whether she’s satisfied with what she reads in my expression or not.

“So you gonna call them back?” she asks after another minute of thick silence.

“Do you want me to?” I ask.

Her breath catches. “Why the hell should I care?”

My gaze drops to the escalated rise and fall of her chest, then the belt of the robe that emphasizes her trim waist. Her excitement is as obvious as the condensation dripping down the soda can.

A touch of ennui seeps into my blood. “And you wonder why I find all this tedious?”