Page 34 of Hotshot

Oh, I knew the answer to that one. Two words—sexier proposition.

“My jeans are sopping wet and it’s your fault,” he said, breaking the charged silence in the parking lot.

“Sorry. You could have staged a fit and gotten us out of there sooner.” I pointed out, rescuing my keys from my pocket.

“I didn’t want to get in the way. And if you don’t mind me saying so, you were inspiring back there. Cool under pressure, available but not overeager. You looked like a real star.”

“Shut up,” I scoffed.

“I’m serious.” Hank’s lopsided smile was laced with something I couldn’t read. Something sultry and maybe even dirty. “It was kinda hot.”

Desire rose in my throat and my heart beat like a drum. That was an offhand, teasing comment, not a real flirtation. He was trying to put me at ease and butter me up, but he was obviously blissfully unaware of the effect he had on me.

“Right. I should go.” I gestured at my truck.

“But we have unfinished business, Denny.”

My mouth was open again.

Don’t judge. He did this to me.

I licked my lips nervously and let out a weak huff. “A proposition?”

Hank tipped his hat to meet my gaze. He was maybe an inch shorter than me, but right then and there, he was larger than life. “Okay, but let’s call it a trade. I want something, you want something. And if I remember correctly, you said this would be easier if it was just about sex. Now that would be unethical, but we can make a sexier deal.”

Oh, my God. Yes. That’s what I wanted. A sexy deal.

“How so?” Yeah, my voice fucking cracked.Smooth, Den.

“Well, is there something you want but wouldn’t do for yourself?”Yes, yes, yes. “Like…heli-skiing in Whistler, fly fishing in Wyoming or?—”

Huh?

“Dude. Stop.” I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck? Those are not sexy propositions. At all.”

He huffed in exasperation. “Help me out, Denny. What do you want?”

“I’ll tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want to go fucking fly fishing. Fishing is not sexy.”

Hank threw his hands in the air. “What is sexy to you?”

“Sex is sexy. Sex.”

Silence. City silence.

I was vaguely aware of the hum of traffic and laughter in the distance, but I was locked into this moment like I was on the ice–as if this was a real life face-off and we were stuck in time, waiting for the puck to drop.

Hank’s nostrils flared as he dragged his tongue over his teeth. “Sex.”

Gulp.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

He flashed a pirate’s smile. “Okay. You want to know what it’s like to be with a guy, right? Maybe I can help you.”

“How?” My voice rose an octave.

Hank inched closer, like a panther sizing up his next meal. The hungry glint in his eye was predatory and dangerous. “I can find someone for you to get your gay on with.”