“Are you trying to impress me?” his full lips say, dragging my gaze down.
I bet they would feel amazing wrapped around my cock, and the twitch I receive in response tells me my body agrees.
“You’re talking to me and haven’t run off. Haven’t I already?” I lick my lips, loving the way his gaze snaps to my mouth.
The drink I ordered arrives just then, bringing with it a tense pause. The man I’m trying to charm takes a sip, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The collar of my shirt suddenly feels too tight, the discomfort spreading to the rest of my clothes as an appreciative hum leaves those kissable lips.
“I don’t like you cocky types,” Green Eyes says, leaning in as he puts the glass down. “But I’ve had a shit day, and I need to blow off some steam.”
I knew it. Maybe it’s why I was drawn to him tonight. It’s commiseration.
“Yeah?” It’s my turn to lean in, but I go a step further than he did, bringing my mouth close to his ear as I trace a feathery line up his damp neck with my finger. He smells like sweat and forest-scented cologne. “What a coincidence. I’ve had a shit day, too.”
“And that is my problem how?” He chuckles, tilting his head to the side to give me more access.
Shit, his snark is really doing it for me.
I blow air against his skin, mesmerized by the goosebumps it causes. “Because we can help each other.”
“Can we now?”
Is he playing hard to get? Fuck, this is driving me crazy in the best way. People usually throw themselves at me, whether because they know who I am or because they find me attractive… but this guy?
A rush of want knots my stomach and I can’t take it anymore. With a tiny growl, I clutch my hand around his lean neck and tip his head back, so we are looking at each other. Fire flickers in his gaze, dark and inviting, and I lose my mind there and then. Between one mad heartbeat and another, I smash my mouth against his, hungry to taste him.
He makes a surprised noise, tensing up and clasping the edge of the bar. But he doesn’t push me away. His hands sneak around to my back as he opens for me, tongue wet and desperate. He tastes like the gin and tonic he had, and I can’t get enough of him. I need more, I want to be naked, to hear him scream my name as I make a mess of both of us.
“Maybe…” He smiles, slowly pulling away as he places a finger between us. “You should get us a room. The staff is giving us the evil eye.”
I like that idea. Very much so. “I was going to invite you to dance first, but if you insist—”
“I do,” he cuts in, bringing his mouth to my ear and nipping on the tip. “I need someone to screw my brains out, and you seem like a good fuck.”
I gape at the swaying crowd, my brain stuck on buffering.Holy fucking shit. What’s happening here?
The man chuckles. “What’s up, sexy? Cat got your tongue?” He presses his hand flat against my chest and pushes me gently. “Well, I’m sure I can find someone else if you aren’t interested…”
Heturns to leave, but I grab his arm and pull him to me while waving a bartender over. “You got rooms?”
“Yep. Regular or VIP?” the red-haired woman cleaning a bunch of glasses asks.
“VIP.” I toss my credit card to her. “Put it on my tab along with whatever was on his.” As she hands me a keycard for the room, I add, “And hang one of those ‘do not disturb’ signs on our door, will you?”
The moment we enter the dark VIP room, I’m all over the man. The lights come on as we stumble our way to the bed, clothes flying and shoes dropping. I’m ravenous, needing to touch and taste every inch of him I can get to. It’s probably the stress, or the fact that I didn’t have much time for fun lately. It doesn’t matter, I don’t care—all I want is to bury myself deep in this guy and forget my problems.
“You are something else,” he says when I let him go so I can dim the lights and get the supplies we’ll need.
Once the ambience is moody enough for my preferences, I glance at the bedside table’s drawer. There are lube and condoms, but I don’t like the brand, so I fish out the ones I carry in my wallet and toss them onto the bed.
My prize for tonight laughs. “Not fancy enough for you?” he jokes with a tilt of his chin toward the nightstand.
“No.” I run a hand through my hair, forcing the longer top part back, and take a moment to drink him in. He’s still got his shirt on, and his pants hang unbuttoned. He’s tall and fit, like he works out without being a gym rat, which I like because I’m the same even if I have an inch or two on him.
Noticing me staring, he smirks and runs his hand down his chest and abs. “Like what you see?”
“Yes, but I was also wondering why you are still dressed.”
His eyes darken as he gives me a deliberate once-over. I’ve lost my shirt along the way, exposing my strong and muscular torso. The hunger I see across from me confirms that he appreciates the care I put into my body and that increases the pleasant anticipation I feel just under my skin.
