“Well, then, what’s my challenge?” he queries, all giddy, clapping his hands together.
I make eyes across the room and nod in the direction of his victim.
“Get her number.”
His eyes look over his shoulder and I immediately have regrets because the look he returns to me is one of triumph.
“Oh, Rosie, I hope you’re ready for round two because I’m going to knock this play out of the park.” He steals his beer offthe table, levels me with one of those panty-melting winks, and turns to head in the direction of his challenge. I picked an older woman because I had assumed one of two things. One, he would cringe and say older women weren’t his style and admit the loss. Or, two, he’d attempt but be unsuccessful in turning the charm fully on because, again, the older woman. And I’m not talking ten or fifteen years older, I’m talking at least twenty-five, maybe thirty years older.
I watch from across the room. Caleb approaches casually at first, a good distance away, he says something with a pinched smile before he turns his head over his shoulder to look at me. Then he leans in, tucks hair behind the woman’s ear, and whispers to her. Whatever he says, it has her giggling, reaching into her purse, writing what I assume is her fucking phone number, and handing him the piece of paper before kissing his cheek and leaving him be.
The smug bastard practically skips back to the table and slides over a piece of paper, and I can’t believe I am going to say this, but…I’m impressed.
“Do you regularly fuck older women?” I ask, almost breathless with surprise.
“Only on Thursdays.” He grins before downing the rest of his beer.
“Well…we both win, so does that mean we play again?” I should try to hide my excitement more but I can’t help myself. I was interested in Caleb for a quick and easy lay, but the more time we play around, the more I find myself having fun. Even if wedidn’tsleep together, I think I’d leave pretty content with the night’s events.
All those thoughts die when he takes a couple confident steps in my direction, towering over me, leaving me no choice but to strain my neck to meet his deep, deep blue eyes.Are they freaking purple?!
“I have another idea.” His voice is low, that same deep sweetness that promises something exhilarating and dirty all at once. I gulp and hope to God he doesn’t sense my eagerness. I need to, at all times, remain in front here.
“How about we skip the challenge altogether and go play somewhere private?”Fuck yes,I almost say, but I have better control than that.
“Nah, I’m bored of this now.” I sigh, turning to head for the dance floor with the girls.
I hazard a look over my shoulder, expecting to find shock, defeat, or something like that. Instead, it’s that same lustful glare. I think I just lured him into a different kind of game. A cat and mouse chase, because with how he grips the table in front of him, he has far from admitted defeat.
What have I started?
Caleb
She’s good.
Sogood. Like expert level at seduction and playing hard to get. AndgetI will, because little does Rosie Rosebud know, I never shy from a challenge, and I never lose. Closing is my gig and I’ll get her to play.
I watch from across the room as she dances with the girls, and I can’t tear my eyes from her. The room moves in slow motion, and her dark, mysterious eyes keep finding me, like a warden watching for her hostage. Here’s the thing, I’ll submit when the time calls for it. A lack of control doesn’t mean you lose, not if the outcome is the same. It’s the same principle at the office as you play with women; when they think they’re in control, you can have them eating out of the palm of your hand.
I could sense Rosie’s need for control the moment I caved and went to her. The dance is simple: if I give in, she holds the power to dictate how the night ends. All I care about is that when it does end, it is with her in a bed—or some sort of surface—preferably naked, and me fucking her brainless. If she needs the appearance of control for that result, I’ll hand her the reins any day.
Noah, Lucas, and Addison’s brother, Jessie, are locked in conversation at the table, but I’m not listening. Couldn’t even if I tried, my entire being is currently consumed with a curly-headed sorceress, using the power of her smooth, golden-brown skin, generous curves, fuck-me eyes, and a wide radiating smile to hold me captive. I know I don’t have a hope in hell trying my luck at a different conquest, because she’s occupied my entire mind from the moment she walked through the door. She’ll be tonight’s dessert, I just need to get her back to my apartment as soon as possible because, with the way she is moving those hips to the music, I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer.
Sculling the rest of my beer and never breaking eye contact, I slip between Addison and Rosie, stealing her attention and overtaking her personal space. It earns me a look full of rich-girl attitude and I want to kiss the shit out of those plump lips.
“Ready to leave yet, pumpkin?” The nickname rolls off the tongue but dies a painful death at the mocking laugh she hits me with. It only spears me on.
“You’re something else,” she teases.
“I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m having fun with my girls.”
“I’m funner.” The smirk I give her is easy and, despite the push and pull, I know it’s working on her.
“That isn’t a word.”
“How about we take this back to my place, and you can show me all the words you know.”
