Falling For His Escort [Book #3]

Chapter 1

Panting, I feel like I'm going to pass out. This heat is no joke. Which is why I'm pissed that I'm out here and not back in my apartment where the air conditioning is currently blasting.

Wiping the sweat from my brow, I apologize to the people I've accidentally bumped into on my way down to the beach.

Bolt, my black and tan German Sheperd is bolting -hence the reason for his name- towards the neon green tennis ball he just saw being thrown into the air.

He's not usually this reactive, but tennis balls have always been his weakness ever since he was a little puppy. Anytime he saw the damn thing he would take off.

I put him in multiple training schools, especially when he was a puppy and not one person managed to shift his focus away from the ball. And it's not just any ball. It's tennis balls he likes. He could care less about any other ball.

"Damn you, Bolt!" I yell, knowing he heard me because he looked back. "Get back here!" He turns his head, still making a run for the ball he saw seconds ago.

I promise I'm a good dog owner. I always keep him on a leash during walks, and I have been working to correct his behavior. Of course, no one knows that. All they see is an owner chasing after their large, unpredictable dog.

Bolt and I were on our way back to my apartment from our afternoon walk when he saw the ball. I didn't have a solid grip on the leash and he took off.

Which is why I'm running. And although I'm in good shape, I didn't prepare myself to run across the beach for my dog in the middle of the hot ass day.

I watch from a distance as Bolt leaps into the air to catch the tennis ball in his mouth. My eyes follow the large fur ball as he runs back over to whoever threw the ball.

I pause, my mouth forming an o shape as I watch Bolt tackle a guy to the ground.

That looked like it hurt.

When I finally reach Bolt, who's licking all over the guy's face, I grab his harness and move to pull him off.

"Sit," I command.

Bolt plops down into a sitting position, his long pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He cocks his head to one side, his slanted ears making it difficult to be upset with the one year old pup.

I turn my attention back to the guy he knocked over. "I am so sorry. He really likes tennis balls. And I know that's not an excuse, but-"

"It's okay," the guy cuts in. Green eyes flicker up to me, his lips curling up into a drop dead gorgeous smile.

I wasn't really looking at him, but I am now. He has waves of thick dark hair that looks like a deep shade of red in the sunlight.

My eyes trail over the tattoos on his arms before focusing on one in particular that peeks out of his salmon pink swim trunks. I'm unable to figure out what it is, but it looks like it may be a part of a much larger tattoo.

Tearing my gaze away from his beautifully sculpted abdomen, I look over just as a miniature black Schnauzer walks over to her owner, her little tail wagging.

The guy stands to his feet and brushes off the sand clinging to his swim trunks. Picking up the saliva covered ball, he gives it back to Bolt.

"Oh, he doesn't-"

"He can have it," he says with a smile. "I don't mind. I have plenty more at home."

"Thank you," I reply, mirroring the smile on his face.

My face heats up when I realize he's now checking me out. I'm not one to get flustered easily, but there was just something about those green eyes. I feel like he could see right through my matching black athletic wear.

His eyes fall to my midriff before quickly meeting my eyes again. The smile on his face stretched when he realized I caught him checking me out.

Ah, so he's one of those.

He's hot. I'll give him that. But he's clearly a man whore. Or he's a pervert. Either way, I refuse to engage a guy like that. The man has commitment issues written all over his handsome, chiseled face.

"So, are you going to tell me your name?"

"No."

The smile on his face vanishes, a frown taking its place. "Why not?"

"Because if I tell you my name, then you're going to want my number."

"And what's wrong with that?" He asks, tilting his head the same way Bolt had done just a moment ago.

"I know guys like you."

I deal with guys like him on a daily basis. They're rich horn balls who only care about one thing. And that's sex.

Unfortunately for them, as an escort I don't provide sexual services. I'll cling to your arm like a married couple in the newlywed stage. And whether it's to wow your parents, or piss off an ex, I'll become whoever you want me to be.

For a hefty fee, of course.

Curiosity sparkles in his eyes. "Enlighten me, darling."

"I'm guessing you grew up in a big house surrounded by loving family members, went to an Ivy League school, and have probably never had an issue when it comes to women. In fact, they flock to you because you're a rich pretty  boy."

I recieve no reaction from him. He just stares, patiently waiting for me to finish analyzing him.

"Sure, you have a heart of gold," I continue. "But you often think with your..." I quickly look down, then back up. "You're what? A solid four inches flaccid and about six inches when hard?" He simply raises a brow and I grin. "Anway, you often think with your dick. So I mean this in the most respectful way when I say this, but no I will not tell you my name. And no, I will not give you my number."

"Damn, I'm impressed," he admits, nodding his head in approval. "Though, you're wrong about one thing."

"Really?" I question in surprise, thinking my analysis of him had been spot on. "What did I get wrong?"

"I'm actually six inches flaccid and eight when hard. But you know, A for effort." He smirks. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you, no name." He turns to leave, motioning his dog to follow with a soft whistle and a pat of his thigh.

Hmm... Now that he mentions it, my measurements of his cock size was a little off.

Turning to Bolt, I scratch behind his ears and pat his head. He's looking up at me with those innocent brown eyes of his, as if to say, "you like him, don't you?"

I find myself glancing in the guy's direction before quickly looking away. "Eh, he's alright," I answered, as if Bolt had really asked me a question. "Now come on, let's go finish our walk."