Tease Me, page 1
Tease Me
STILETTOS AND SECRETS SERIES
BOOK THREE
KENDALL TALBOT
This book is dedicated to all the women out there who need a little escape.
Chapter One
“How could I be falling for a man who doesn’t even know my real name?” Tears spilled down my cheeks as I squeezed my phone to my ear.
“Babe. You listen to me.” Lolita sighed. “Memphis is you. She’s every bit you.”
“No, she’s not. I’m not.” I punched the pillow on the bed beside me. “Oh, God, see how stupid it is?” I wiped a tear that teetered on my top lip.
“Jane, Memphis comes from you. Putting on a wig and makeup doesn’t change who you are. Somehow, somewhere inside you is Memphis. When you let her, she’s gradually sneaking out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen a change in you. You’re much more confident. You’re finally seeing a sexy side to you that’s been buried for too bloody long. You’re having fun, and that’s a good thing.”
We sat in silence as I stewed over what she’d said.
“Tell me what you like about Hunter.”
A smile teased my lips as I pictured my hunky chocolatier. “He’s kind. And funny. We laugh together. He just seems like a really nice man.”
“He sounds like a good guy.”
“He is a good guy, and I feel dreadful for deceiving him.”
“All right, here’s what you’re going to do.” I imagined Lolly crossing her legs in a traditional yoga pose. “You’re going to put your wig back on and dress in something normal—something Jane would wear. Tone down your makeup a bit, too, but not too much. Then you’re going to have coffee with him and get to know him more.”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Babe. You’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a single woman having fun. Besides, Hunter is doing the same thing. He’s just had sex with a complete stranger, too.”
I blinked. “Yes, that’s true.”
“Exactly. So, if you think you’re doing something wrong, then he is too.”
“I hadn’t even thought about it that way.” I rubbed my right eye. “Except, I’m in disguise.”
“A disguise that he thinks is smoking hot. I bet he’d want you to do it all over again too.”
I giggled. “It was fun.”
“Of course, it’s fucking fun. Now go and have breakfast with him, and find out who this hot guy really is.”
My stomach did little flips. I really do want to know Hunter better, and not just in the bedroom. “Okay.”
“Good, and ring me later and tell me all about it.”
I slipped off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. “I will. Thank you. Love you.”
“Love you too, babe.”
I ended the call and placed the phone on the bedside table. The time on the clock indicated I had ten minutes to meet Hunter’s deadline.
I strode to the bathroom, a new woman on a new mission.
With the hair dryer on full blast, I dried both my hair and my wet wig as best as I could. I’m so lucky I’d bought this quality wig, or our steamy shower sex would have been a disaster.
I tucked my hair up again and styled the wig to its former cute style. I applied foundation, ensuring all my freckles, and made sure that damn love bite was hidden. I still couldn’t believe that sexy sportsman had given me a hickey without me knowing.
With that issue sorted, I played with my eyeliner and mascara until they gave me the cat-eye look that I liked, and I finished my makeup with a touch of eye shadow.
Considering the amount of crying I’d done after I’d walked out of Hunter’s room earlier, my eyes only had a small amount of the redness and puffiness that I usually had after tears. I squeezed in a couple of eye drops that I’d bought with my colored contact lenses, and they felt much better.
Satisfied that my disguise was sufficient to hide Jane and yet simple enough that Memphis didn’t look like a lady of the night, I crossed my room to my wardrobe.
I chose a pair of white jeans that I rolled up at the cuff to show off a pair of stylish caramel four-inch heels. I matched the stilettos with a similar-colored knitted top that tended to slip off my shoulder all the time. I switched to a strapless bra to solve that little dilemma because although it was annoying, the off-the-shoulder thing was kind of sexy, but showing one bra strap was not.
At my jewelry collection, I scrounged through the bits and pieces and decided on a chunky set of long-string fake pearls and pearl-drop earrings.
I stood before the mirror. Although I didn’t look like Jane, I didn’t look like Memphis either. But I did like what I saw. The woman in the mirror was confident and sexy and about to go on a breakfast date. My stomach fluttered at the thought of Hunter waiting for me.
I grabbed my phone and purse and headed out the door.
As I crossed the marble lobby expanse, Needledick looked up from the reception desk.
I was a second away from saying hello when I realized I was Memphis, so I put my head down and increased my pace. It wasn’t until I was out in the sunshine that I let out the breath I’d been holding.
Trying to calm my racing heart, I slipped my sunglasses on and walked along the path that ran parallel to the beach. The Blue Haven Café was the one Lolita and I went to every Tuesday after our morning workout, and we knew all the staff there.
This will be yet another test of my disguise.
Hunter was seated at one of the outside tables, looking every bit as sexy as he had naked. He wore a simple white Polo with a couple of buttons undone at his neck. His blond hair was tousled in a messy, wavy style that had a few bangs falling near his eyes, and he wore sunglasses that looked as if they’d been made especially for him.
His jaw actually dropped as I approached, and my heart galloped at his cute reaction. He stood and pulled out a chair. When I reached him, he leaned in to kiss me, and I smelled lovely aromas of cologne, soap, and masculine man.
I sat, and as he sat opposite me, he smiled. “That’s twice this morning you’ve surprised me, Memphis.” He kept his sunglasses on, so I did, too.
I cocked my head. If he wanted surprises, I sure could give him one. “Twice?”
“Yes. I didn’t expect you to come to breakfast with me. Just like I didn’t expect to see you upstairs.”
“I like to keep my men guessing.” Oh, God. I inwardly cringed at my stupid comment.
But to my delight, Hunter laughed and then raised his eyebrows. “Is that right? I’ll keep it in mind.”
He picked up a menu. “Shall we order?”
I didn’t need the menu; I knew exactly what I was having. But in keeping with my persona, I pretended to scan the breakfast selection. All the while, hidden behind my glasses, I stared at the sexy man opposite. The sun caught on his wavy hair, highlighting touches of brandy amidst the blond. His teeth were perfect, and every once in a while, he ran his tongue over his lips. I wondered if he knew I was watching and if he was licking his lips for my benefit. Not that I was complaining.
Matt, the painfully dour waiter, arrived at our table with a bottle of water and two glasses. “Are you ready to order?” His enthusiasm was non-existent.
“After you,” Hunter said.
“Hi, Matt. I’ll have savory mince on toast and a large cappuccino, please.”
Matt crinkled his nose at me, but I ignored him. He was prone to acting weird.
But when Hunter also looked at me a little strangely, I wondered if it was my choice of meal that caused that reaction. Oh shit! I called the waiter by his name.
I inwardly cringed, and as Hunter placed his order, my mind raced over how I’d explain that screw-up.
The waiter left, and Hunter leaned back on his chair. “You’ve been here before?”
I nodded. “A few times. So, tell me, how did you go with introducing your chocolates to Queensland?” I diverted the conversation away from me.
“Not too bad, actually.” He sat forward and steepled his fingers together. “I’ve secured half a dozen restaurants, and a few cafés are interested.”
“Oh, that’s excellent. Is that why you’re back?”
“It is.” He tilted his head. “And I’d hoped to bump into you again.”
I smiled, and my stomach fluttered as he looked at me.
“I’m glad I did.” He fiddles with the curled-up corner of the menu. “You know, you never answered my question about how you knew I’d be there.”
I frowned and scrambled for an appropriate answer. “Yes, I did. I told you I had my spies.”
He huffed. “You’re an interesting woman, Just Memphis.”
“Thanks. I’ve been called worse.”
I need to control this conversation before I dig myself in deeper.
Our coffees arrived, and I used the distraction to work out what question to ask him next. I ran a spoon around my mug, catching the chocolate sprinkles that lined the edge. “I never did get a chance to ask you if you’ve ever been married?” So much for idle chit-chat.
“Nah. I got close once, but like your ex, she turned out to be a lying cheater.”
My eyes widened. “I’d forgotten I’d told you that.”
“Oh yes, you just about broke up telling me.”
I frowned, and upon noticing his cheeky smile, I rolled my eyes. “I did not. I’m well and truly over that bastard. What about you? Why haven’t you moved on?’
“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Hurt feelings. Insecurity.”
“Pfft, I doubt it. The man I saw upstairs isn’t insecure.”
He slid his glasses onto his head and raised his eyebrows. “What can I say? You bring out the best in me, Memphis. So . . .” He sipped his coffee. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight. And you?”
“Guess.” He wriggled his eyebrows.
I gasped. “That’s not fair; I told you my age. I’m not guessing.”
“Oh, come on. I’m curious how old you think I am.”
“Okay, forget I asked. It doesn’t bother me anyway.”
“Really? You don’t want to know?”
I shook my head. It was true. . . based on the men I’d been with so far this year; age was no longer important.
Matt arrived with two plates. “The three-egg omelet?” he asked in his depressing drawl.
“That’s mine.” Hunter’s meal was placed before him, and the savory mince before me.
“Is there anything else you’re waiting on?” Matt should already know the answer to that question. Sometimes, his ineptitude really got on my nerves.
“No, we’re all good.”
Matt left, and I removed my sunglasses, placed them aside, and forked some mince into my mouth. As usual, it was full of flavor. I rarely had breakfast here, often choosing a sweet treat instead, but whenever I did, it was this dish. My grandmother had been the queen of savory mince—before Alzheimer’s stole that recipe from her, that was.
That gave me an idea. “Tell me about your family.”
“I already told you about Mom and Dad, remember? They’re both chefs.”
“That’s right, that’s how you grew to love chocolate.”
“Tell me about your family.”
I put a forkful of mince in my mouth as I debated what to say. In the end, I decided the truth wouldn’t hurt. “I grew up in Mildura with Mom and Dad and a brother, who’s now a professional football player.”
“Oh really? What’s his name?”
Oh, God. I coughed on my mince. I’d totally walked into that trap. As I held a napkin over my mouth and coughed up a lung, Hunter reached around to gently pat my back.
“Geez, are you okay?”
I nodded and wiped a tear away from my eye. “Sorry about that. I think it went down the wrong way.” I gulped the water. Damn, this dating business was tricky.
Hunter resumed eating, and as I sipped my coffee, I hoped he’d forget what he’d asked. The best way to help him do that would be to ask him something. “So, do you have children?” Good one, Jane. Straight to the jugular.
“No, you?”
I shook my head. “No.” I scooped another mouthful of mince into my mouth. “Do you like to travel?”
His eyes lit up. “I love to travel. How about you?”
“I haven’t done any yet, but I will one day. Where’ve you been?”
“Being a chocolatier, I’ve had to visit some of the most magnifique places in ze world.” He slipped into a terrible fake French accent, and I burst out laughing. Hunter feigned horror at my teasing, and we giggled together.
The rest of our breakfast was a lovely mix of laughter and curiosity. It was so relaxing listening to his wonderful stories about all the amazing places he’d visited in his search for the finest ingredients in the world.
His passion for travel was equaled by his passion for The Sweet Spot, his chocolate business. We laughed and chatted for so long that when I looked at the time on my phone, I was shocked to see that I’d lost four wonderful hours with my perfect stranger.
When it was time to stand, Hunter placed his hand on the small of my back and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “Well, Just Memphis, it’s been a delight.”
A giddy flutter danced across my insides. “I agree.”
“Would you like me to walk you to your room?”
Oh, God. I’d love that so much.
Thankfully, my brain kicked in just in time to stop my wish from being blurted out. “No, that’s okay. I’m catching up with a friend for lunch, so I’ll just keep going.” I felt rotten lying to him again.
He touched my elbow. “May I ask for your number?”
Oh God. If I give him my number, how will I know to answer as Memphis?
Chapter Two
My heart skipped about a thousand beats. “My number?” I repeated to Hunter, like a complete fool.
“Yes. Your phone number.” He cocked his head.
“Oh, oh um . . .”
His shoulders sagged. “You don’t have to.”
“It’s not that. It’s um . . . just that I work shift work and I . . . ummm . . .”
“You never told me that.”
“What?”
“That you work shift work. What do you do?”
Oh, shit. This is getting messy. “I’m a croupier at the casino.” I had absolutely no idea where that lie came from.
“Oh wow, that’s interesting.” He tapped his temple with his finger. “Mental note: never challenge Memphis to a game of blackjack then.”
I put on a fake chuckle. “Yep, that’s right.” That’s me, a card shark from way back. Not.
“Okay, if you don’t want to give me your number, can I at least give you mine?”
I grinned and nodded.
“Have you got a pen?”
I reached into my bag and removed a Hot Horizon Hotel pen.
Hunter twisted the pen in his fingers. “Ha. I pinched one of these too.” He scribbled his number on a napkin and handed it to me. Then he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”
Hunter turned and strode away, and I watched his sexy butt until he climbed the stairs of the hotel and disappeared.
It was a long moment before I dragged myself from the Blue Haven Café. I decided to go for a walk to clear my head. The sun was nearly directly above me, but thankfully, the winter weather kept it quite mild.
I walked along aimlessly, enjoying my scenery and replaying every wonderful moment of my morning with Hunter. For the first time in my life, a man, and a sexy man at that, had asked me for my phone number. That one simple move had me grinning like a crazy woman.
My wandering led me outside the pharmacy, and I went inside to buy more condoms. Unlike last time, today I had a fair idea of what I was doing. I grabbed the same brand I’d bought before and strode to the counter.
The creepy guy at the checkout didn’t eyeball me like he had last time, and the purchase took less than two minutes.
I made my way back to the hotel, put my head down, and charged across the lobby in an attempt to avoid Needledick. Though, I didn’t need to worry because he was on the phone at reception with his gaze toward the computer.
The first thing I did when I entered my room was take the napkin with Hunter’s number out of my bag. I kissed it. I had no idea why I did that, but for some reason, this simple token made me feel like a silly seventeen-year-old girl who’d just been asked to the prom by the hottest guy in town. I secured his number to my fridge with a surfboard magnet and stood back to admire it.
After brushing my teeth, I stripped off and put on a floral cotton pajama set. As I sat on the bed, I reached for my diary, turned to the 1st of July, and wrote, Mr. Hunter McCall Room 4.
There was something about Hunter that made him special, and he, in turn, made me feel warm and fuzzy as if I was falling under a magical spell. I detailed our amazing sex in the shower and our breakfast afterward. That’s when I wrote Sex for Breakfast beneath his name.
I put the diary aside and crawled under the blanket. Hunter’s lovely scent was still on me, and as I closed my eyes, I pictured the two of us lying side by side, him with his arm around my neck and me with my leg curled over his thigh, capturing all the warmth of his exquisite body.
As I allowed sleep to take me, I drifted into another perfect world.
Running out of staples was one of my pet hates. What was even worse was when someone else used the last one and was too lazy to replenish them. I huffed at the inconvenience, stood up from the reception counter, and wandered into the staff room.
The stationery cupboard was immaculate; thanks to my endless hours of boredom, I always made sure every item was in its rightful place.
I plucked the box of staples from the shelf at eye level and proceeded to open it as I strolled back to reception.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
