It was a cool feature, but probably not one that was used a great deal because she hadn't found anyone who'd really caught her eye that way so far, and the few she had been pulled in by were notably not what she was looking for on a mental level.

Jackie hadn't allowed herself to become discouraged, though, and as the red heart flashed above her shiny, new inbox, she got even more fired up at the prospect of what lay behind door number one. Grinning, she reached over and clicked it open, leaning in to ogle the avatar of the smoke-eyed, dark-haired demi god staring back at her.

Can you say "Jackpot?"

Mouth parting agape, she clicked the avatar to visit his profile and drink in his pictures. Was it even possible to be that gorgeous? She'd honestly been expecting a nice-looking guy, but this one... He could have modeled for CK ads and dated supermodels. Instead, his profile told her he was interested in girls like her: dark-haired, voluptuous, and smart.

"Ladies who had more to offer."

She undoubtedly liked the outer package, but hell, she appreciated the mind already, too. ...If he was actually being upfront, of course. Clicking on his picture folder, she nipped her lower lip, dragging her teeth over it before loosing it.

An absolutely heart-stopping, spine-tingling, absolutely gorgeous god of a man.

Not even a demi-god.

Drawing a breath of courage, Jackie swallowed her nerves and clicked on the IM. The green button by his name told her he was online. Quickly typing into the message box, she deleted the first thing she wrote, opting for something simpler: "What's up?"

Liam

"He's good, book him for the shoot. No. I'm paying a grand for one shoot. Firm. Forget the Diva shit. He lacks the position for it. Don't forget how much this'll do for his portfolio. Raw Ink's name alone will get him a merch ad. Yep. Alright. Call me if he bites."

Clicking off his mobile, Liam sat back at his desk, looking down at the shot of the model that had made him want to hire the kid in the first place. He had a look that would fit the next generation Raw Ink - Europe. Liam was getting tired of being the face of the US shops, let alone the international ones. It'd been a hell of a ride at first, but fanfare quickly reveals the true character of the people you come into contact with at the fame level of things.

When you're a celebrity face with any level of cashable notoriety, the sharks come circling in their shiny, bespoke suits, vamp-red lipstick, stilettoes, and merch deals.

At least, he wasn't so big that he had paparazzi hounding him, yet. With his temper, he'd catch cases over that variation of bullshit; Liam was smart enough to back away now before he got in too deep.

He was more than satisfied with his level of renown in the ink community. He'd be able to work the conventions and reality shows for a while for side cash and promotional value.

Greed corrupts.

He really didn't need any more than he already had. Especially where the brainless bimbos were concerned. The last thing he wanted was to upgrade to a soulless trophy wife itching to write a tell-all the minute things went south. Liam's tastes were simpler than that. He'd met and bedded a lot of women in his 28 years, but he'd yet to meet a woman who challenged him intellectually, and fed the animal lust that had won him a serious reputation as a lady killer.

He wasn't. A lady killer, that is. He had a healthy, sexual appetite, but it was the sort that was hungry for all that a woman had to offer, body and soul. He wasn't interested in a woman who looked great in bed, but couldn't handle her own at a poker table, in a business meeting, or even in a friendly game of paintball.

And as simple and reasonable as it might sound to find a beauty with brains and a personality, he'd been striking out left and right for awhile now. The mentors of today's generation had taught them all to be material girls with an emphasis on looking good no matter the amount of plastic it took to stuff those double-Ds. Yeah, he'd pass on the plastic Barbie’s. If he didn't bed another one for as long as he lived it would be far too soon.

Leaning back with his hands cradling his head, he let his eyes slip closed, claiming a quick Zen moment before he made the rest of the day's business calls. With Tat Con coming up in six weeks, he needed to sign a new face he could trust. It wasn't a lot of time, and he had to be sure the new kid was a complete professional if he took the job.

No hot heads. No undisciplined players. Even if Liam himself had resembled the former for most of his young life. He'd learned the perils of letting your fists think for you, firsthand, and he didn't have time to babysit anyone else right now. Not with the reality show coming up. The ink hadn't touched the final contract, yet, but he was pretty sure the execs would meet his demands without a fuss.

A ding popping up on his browser shook him out of his snatch of peace, and he lowered his hands to click the touchpad with a sigh. He had to get out of here tonight. A distraction was in order. A good one.

The Two of Hearts site logo on his screen bounced twice before zooming out and flashing an avatar that made him lean forward and squint his eyes. A whistle escaping his lips, he clicked it and sat back. He might just get that distraction, after all.

This one was a beauty.

And not in the way of the synthetic hive mind that took over most women these days. She was fucking striking. Wide, dark eyes wreathed in lashes. Lush lips that looked like they were flushed permanently red. And her body. Holy shit. Hips for days, a cinched waist, and a mesmerizing rack he couldn't take his eyes off of.

Even better? Her profile. She actually read books for pleasure, not just for school. And she was also in school, though, her listing didn't say for what. Like him, she was discreet. Just a hair to the left of anonymous. Like his, her profile gave one name only: Jackie.

He liked the way that rolled off the tongue.

Yeah, he was answering this IM.

Clicking the box, Liam grinned at the simple greeting, "What's up?"

Straight and to the point. He didn't know why, but he could already tell they were going to click. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip and sucking it back, he passed on the obvious crass answer his little brain might have given if he were still 14 years old, and under its sway.

Grinning, he threw a line at her. For fun.

"Other than my heart rate, right now? How's someone with your beauty and brains on a dating site?"

Sitting back, he waited for her response, looking forward to seeing what kind of conversation this banger had. If she was at least not a giggler who agreed with everything he said, it was on for tonight - if she would have him, of course.

Shit, the more he looked at her picture, it was on tonight, even if she was a giggler.

"I joined for the articles, of course. You?"

"Same, if you mean articles of clothing when I meet my match. Fewer, the better, of course."

"Confident are we?"

"Would desperate be a better approach?"

"Depends on the girl."

"What kind of girl are you?"

"Not a desperate one."

They went on like that for awhile, and the more he messaged with this goddess, the more he wanted to see her that night for something with a deeper significance than a mere distraction. She had substance, wit, and a subdued sort of fire that he couldn't help but grin at. She'd probably whip his ass at chess if he challenged her.