Free SinCityTryst by Kim Tiffany

checked herself out of the
hotel with a minimum of fuss. She caught a taxi to nearby McCarran Airport and
put herself on the standby list for the last flight back to San Francisco,
which was in about an hour.
    She felt drained and a bit light-headed as she slumped into
one of the uncomfortable chairs near the flight gate to wait. She’d managed to
leave a message for Angie on her cell right before it died, but she’d forgotten
to pack her charger so her phone now lay silent and dark in her purse.
    Glancing at her reflection in the terminal window, she
winced. Her perniciously round face and cheeks set against a halo of curly
brown hair stared back mockingly, her eyes red and bright from smoky interiors,
lack of sleep and unshed tears.
    Men like Ethan la Montagne simply did not pine after women
like her, she reminded herself. She thought she had glimpsed real desire and
appreciation in his eyes earlier, but now that the ardor had cooled and the
sweat had dried, she wasn’t sure anymore. She couldn’t compute how he could
possibly want her again after seeing her physical polar opposite draped across
him like a human Slinky—tight and toned and cellulite-free.
    If she were a man, whom would she choose? It was no contest.
    Introspection made her head throb even more. Things wouldn’t
seem so bad in the light of day, she hoped. But for now…
    It was a good thing the airplane provided a built-in
designated driver, because she planned to get rip-roaring drunk.

Chapter Nine
     
    Sean watched his best man slip another bill into the
redhead’s G-string and the entire crew hollered good-naturedly, too ramped up
to notice how Ethan glanced down at his watch for the millionth time that
evening. He was doing a great imitation of a man who was into it, Sean
thought—instead of one who was counting the hours until he could drag a certain
elementary schoolteacher off to another dark corner.
    “You sure you’re ready to give this up for the rest of your
life, Sean?” quipped Alan, the youngest member of the firehouse, whose eyes
were glued to the stripper’s gyrating hips and thighs as he nursed his third
rum and Coke of the evening. “Hey, baby, how about taking me out for a spin
next?” he called out.
    “You couldn’t handle a real woman, junior,” Sean retorted,
slapping him on the back and smiling indulgently. His phone pinged, and Sean
smiled as he read the exuberant text from his fiancée while the rest of his
crew got their jollies by salivating over the lovely Kimber.
    The redhead continued to climb his best friend like a hungry
chimp, and Ethan looked as though he was enjoying the attention about as much
as a rectal exam. Sean made a mental note to let Angie know that her best
friend had finally gone and made complete mincemeat out of Ethan’s brain—the
guy was obviously over the moon for her. He bit back a grin as he recalled how
flustered Ethan had sounded earlier on the phone when he’d asked him about
Sara.
    Sean pulled a twenty out of his wallet and shoved it in
Alan’s hand, who stared at it uncomprehendingly. He then strolled over to
Kimber and whispered in her ear. She looked over her shoulder with a raised
brow and saw a befuddled Alan still holding the twenty-dollar bill. With a
sinuous glide, she eased off Ethan and turned her attention to the awestruck
twenty-two-year-old. The guys whooped with laughter and made ribald jokes about
Alan’s overexcited state, warning him not to blow like a geyser as the redhead
began her undulating dance anew.
    Sean sauntered over to Ethan and helped pull him up out of
the chair. “So,” he said conversationally, “what’s the deal? Hot Vegas
showgirls not your thing?”
    “Thanks, man.” He looked more than a little relieved that
the lap dance was over. “Nah, she was great,” Ethan said with barely feigned
enthusiasm. “Really hot.”
    “Uh-huh. That’s why you looked like you fell asleep while
she was giving you a titty facial?”
    “I wasn’t asleep.