Stacy

I walked into the hotel with my head high and my favorite dress on. This Maverick guy thought I’d take it easy on him. Not happening. Strappy, short, flirty, and fun was the look I needed to knock him down a peg or two. Plus, the striped sundress I picked made my not-quite-normal breasts look spectacular. Again, not making it easy on him. Let him try to resist checking me out. The guy at the front desk certainly couldn’t.

“You’ll be in room 730.” His name badge said Derrick. The way his eyes kept wandering a little farther south than was polite said nice rack.

See? Perfect dress for the job.

“Thanks.” When his eyes popped back up to mine, I gave the guy my best smile, the one I’d practiced for hours on end. The one I knew got the most response from men, “I appreciate your help, Derrick.”

So maybe saying his name in a phone-sex voice was going a little far. The guy blushed. Not quite what I was going for, but I’d take that response as a positive. Time to get ready to deal with Maverick.

Which, by the way, wasn’t really a name. Maverick was an old car, just like Hudson and Cutlass. I Googled that shit. Something I’d worry about after I dealt with the particular car I’d been saddled with. Talk about a lemon.

Key in hand, I headed up to the room. The view overlooking the Detroit River and Windsor, Canada was phenomenal, but I closed the curtains on it. If I was going to teach Maverick a lesson, I needed to set the scene. He could not be distracted by the scenery.

It took a good fifteen minutes to prep, but at the end, I thought the result was worth the time spent. The bed was made correctly, the cover crisp and inviting, the room a little darker than normal, candles lit, and me… Well, I was ready to look my best. To make sure Maverick understood what he was giving up if he walked away.

Seriously, who names their kid after a car? I’d never heard of a child named Fiat or Toyota or Escort.

I really needed to get over the whole car thing. All three guys I’d met through Macy were named after cars. Hudson, Cutlass, Maverick…it was a trend. One that pricked at me like a puzzle.

A puzzle I didn’t have time for.

At two minutes until our assigned meeting time, I sat on the edge of the mattress and posed. This was another thing I’d practiced—how to look my absolute best wearing the sundress and sitting down. You couldn’t blame me for the sitting part. I had superhigh heels on, and standing in them made my feet hurt. Bedroom heels were not meant for being vertical for long.

So I sat and I posed and I gave the door a sultry, sexy look. And I waited. And waited. And waited some more.

After half an hour, I knew I’d screwed up. I was pacing—barefoot, of course—at that point because posing was hard. I’d end up with a crick in my neck if I tried to keep up that position for too long. Trust me, I’d done it.

At sixty minutes, my confidence was gone. All of it. Crap.

What had I been thinking? Why had I even brought up Chad and implied this match guy would be a second choice? I wasn’t with Chad—we hadn’t been together in years. He was just…convenient. A fuck buddy, if you will. And while that probably wasn’t the best or healthiest thing for me to be doing, it worked. He was there when no one else was, when the days got too quiet and the nights too lonely. When my life reminded me of the silence of the hospital from when I was sick. That year had been brutal—months on end of living in a hospital bed could play tricks with your mind for sure. Chad knew that. He knew me, my secrets and my needs. And he knew about my scars and was way past judging me for them.

Still, if I had someone else, someone solid and sure to help me through those dark times, I’d have left him behind. We didn’t work well together, and he knew it. But comfort was comfort, and with my parents gone and Macy always so busy in school, I took comfort where I could get it. I refused to feel bad about that.

Until Maverick…

At the ninety-minute mark, I accepted the fact that my plan was a failure. Maverick wasn’t coming. I’d need to figure out another way to be in his face that didn’t involve swanky hotel rooms and dinners bought and paid for by the agency. With Macy dating Maverick’s friend and living in the same building, bumping into Maverick shouldn’t be too hard. Not ideal, but doable once I ate a pint of ice cream to get over the sting of rejection and got my head back in the game.

Still, this immersive thing would have been better. Perfect, really. A chance to show and tease and force a response. I was probably going to have to camp in the hallway outside of the apartment like I’d threatened, though. Long nights on a hard floor with nothing to entertain myself as I waited. Ugh. Maverick was a jerk for making me do such a thing. Did he think I was kidding? Did he not understand how resolute I could be once I set my mind to something? The man was in for some serious surprises, apparently.

Resigned to defeat, I tucked my bedroom shoes back in my bag. Sad, really. Those leopard-print stilettos made my legs look amazing, but no one had ever seen them in action. Just my shoe salesman, but he didn’t count. Shoe guys were like therapists—it was part of their job to keep your secrets. Those shoes were my favorite secret. Someday, I’d wear them for someone who would appreciate the beauty and understand the pain enough not to make me walk in them.

I was just about to blow out the first candle when the door swung open. No knock, no polite warning. Just a beep and a swoosh before the man of the hour walked in.

The windblown hair looked good on him. Too good. I needed shields up for this conversation.

“Thanks for showing,” I said as I crossed my arms over my chest. That move pushed my girls up enough to make a really awesome cleavage line. Not that I did it on purpose.

Fine…it was totally on purpose. Dress, rack, good…remember?

Maverick busting in like this, when I was totally not prepared for him, wasn’t what I’d wanted to happen. I’d planned and plotted and practiced to get everything right, but there was no unshining that shoe now. The man was in the room, looking at me.

Looking hard at me.

His eyes, the light jade color and the intensity of his stare, made me almost uncomfortable. There was something so different about him. Unusual. And not just because the jackass didn’t smile.

“You demanded. I showed.”

See? Jackass. “Good. Now how about we head out for a bit? I’m starving, and the minibar’s empty.”

Maverick looked positively dumbfounded. “You’re serious? You actually want to spend time together?”

“One, the dating agency is paying. And since they’re a big bunch of fakers who lie to get customers, I’m totally okay with taking advantage. Two, you need a lesson in dating. You’re cranky and rude, which isn’t going to win you any Mr. Michigan contests. Consider it my public duty to prepare you for the next gal. And three, I don’t joke about food. Ever.” I grabbed my purse, slipped on my sensible-but-cute flats, and headed for the door. “Coming?”

Maverick grumbled but followed me out the door and down the hallway. I saw that as a major accomplishment. In fact, I was almost ready to think the man had potential, but when the elevator arrived, that opinion tanked. He didn’t wait to let me on first. In fact, he practically jumped in front of me to get in. Lord, this was going to be tougher than I thought.

“For the record,” I said as I pressed the button for the lobby. “Women prefer men with manners, which means you hold the doors for her and let her enter first.”

“Why?”

I glanced over my shoulder, just catching him as he adjusted from staring at my ass to glowering at my face. I seriously loved this dress.

“Because it’s polite,” I said, keeping my voice steady even though I wanted to let it drop into the sexy range. Don’t judge…we all do it. But just because I kept my voice on the G-rated spectrum didn’t mean I couldn’t make my words a little PG. “And because it gives you a chance to check out her ass without getting caught. Take advantage of those moments.”

“And that’s what females want? To be leered at?”

I shrugged and faced the door, unable to deal with his glare any longer. “Women like to be wanted.”

Maverick grunted. “And if I don’t want the particular woman?”

Oof. Okay, that hurt. A lot. More than it should have, really. I closed my eyes and took a breath, pushing back the ache his words caused me. One weekend, and I could get rid of him. I could stop this charade and go back to my normal, boring life. This would be fine. I had a plan.

“You can still be nice to her,” I said, proud that I’d kept my voice from shaking. “It’s good practice for the next woman in your life.”

He grunted again, which was about as much of an approval as I’d get. And I was okay with that. Maverick didn’t want me? Fine. I’d still make him behave like a gentleman this weekend and teach him a few things so the woman he ended up with could reap the benefits. Might as well help out the next girl in line, because it wouldn’t be me putting up with him for long.

Screw that.

Maverick

She was lecturing me on human culture. Courting rituals, to be exact. The rules and expectations of males in her society that needed to be followed to attract an eligible female.

What had I gotten myself into?

“Manners. They’re so important because…”

I wished, for the first time in my life, that my hearing was not as sharp as it was.

As Stacy continued talking to me about everything from holding doors to how to help a female into a coat, I fought to keep my eyes anywhere but on her body. The female was loud and bossy, way too direct and mouthy for me, but she was attractive in a way that called to my male side. I didn’t care for her, though. Not in the least. Not even in that dress that drew my eyes to her breasts of their own volition. Or the way my cock grew hard at the glimpses of her legs under the strips of fabric that made up the bottom. No, I didn’t care for her. Not even though I couldn’t keep from sneaking glances at all that extra skin on display.

“And another thing…”

Yeah, she had another thing. And two more after that. Meanwhile, I kept my eyes dancing over her body since she was so distracted by her own speech. She was spunkier than I’d assumed, filled with drive and purpose and strength that overshadowed most others of her kind. And she smelled good. Like sex and sweetness and something natural that appealed to the male in me. Every whiff of her fragrance caused my cock to grow harder. To the point that I worried I’d need to stroke myself to completion before the night was through.

I could not deny my physical attraction to her. And then there was the fact that I’d crooned for her almost the second I saw her. Not that I was going to admit that to anybody. In fact, I had to bite back the sound every few minutes as we made our way outside. What was I supposed to do with that when she was not available for me?

“I mean, the thing is—”

I was done with her things. “How about you stop talking for five minutes so I can take you to dinner?”

Stacy stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to give me an odd sort of look. One that made my groin tighten with something close to desire.

“You want to take me to dinner?”

Want to take her…yes. I wanted. Deeply, though not to dinner. “No, but I’m hungry and you’re here. You can come with me.”

A pain unlike any I’d seen from a human flashed across her face. Something about that expression, about causing my supposed mate to hurt, killed me inside. I ached to wipe that look away and soothe whatever damage I’d caused. I hadn’t meant to injure her, not really. Okay, maybe what I’d said was a little over the line, but I didn’t think she’d respond with pain.

But then the hurt morphed into something close to fury, and my cock practically leaked because of it.

“Fine. But I’m choosing the restaurant.”

See? Bossy. And sexy. Though, at that point, I respected her for it. I’d hurt her, and she’d come back strong and direct. That trait was admirable.

Ignoring my desires, I gave her a quick nod. “Whatever pleases you, boss.”

“Are you always so fucking grumpy?”

“Only when people piss me off.”

“You should work on that. There are breathing techniques and things to teach you to control your anger.”

Of course there were.

As she moved on to give me more detail on how I could change to fit her ideals, I continued down the street. No matter how beautiful she was, and how hard her little body made my cock, or how much I wanted to know what her cunt tasted like, she was too bossy for me. We would never find peace together. Only conflict and fighting. And bedgames. Angry, hard matings that led to broken furniture and bruises. I could almost feel the ache she’d leave behind. Chad would see my bite marks on her skin and know she was not truly his.

Which was enough of a warning to force me to act.

“We should stop this,” I said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s forget we were matched and go on about our lives. We obviously don’t get along.”

But that fury was back, and a look that shocked me took over her pretty face. The female was a warrior for sure. My warrior.

“Oh no, mister. We’re staying the weekend. I deserve a few days of fun in a luxury hotel, and you need a few lessons on manners for…whomever you end up with.”

That should have sounded like torture, but I found myself almost relieved. I didn’t want to spend a weekend dealing with her rules and trying to keep my cock on stand-down, but I also didn’t want to see her walk away just yet. The smart decision would have been to go back to my apartment, rub my cock until I was spent, and forget the beautiful woman whom my esehhnce had crooned for in record time. Fate was wrong—she was not for him.

But smart decisions were not what I was after, apparently.

“You sure your Chad won’t mind you having dinner with another male?”

Stacy’s lips turned down, and her eyes held a serious expression. “I’m not with Chad.”

I took a step back, my mind spinning. “But when you came to—”

“I know what I said when I was at Cutlass’. It was…well, not a lie, really. But it kind of was. I’m not with Chad or anyone else. I haven’t had a boie-frahhnd in years.”

The translator in my brain threw images of couples at me for the word boie-frahhnd. Huh.

“So you have no male in your life?”

“No,” she said. “Not one like that. My past with Chad is…complicated. But he’s not someone in the way. He’s not anyone important to me.”

Not important. That didn’t sound as final as I’d like, but it was something. An opening of sorts. If this Chad wasn’t an impediment to our mating, a match was possible.

Except for her bossy, demanding attitude that did nothing but piss me off. I was a pilot, a leader, and I would be the boss of our mating. If we made it that far. Everything was still too precarious to know for sure.

But possibilities had opened up.

“Fine,” I said, growling slightly as the word exploded from between my lips. “We’ll go to dinner. Maybe using your mouth for something other than talking will be a good thing.”

She frowned, those plump, pink lips turning down, bringing my attention right to them. Caught my focus and left me not thinking about food. At all. Her mouth…on my cock. That picture didn’t help the situation.

Dinner was going to be hell.