From across the bar, she was captivating, but when I stood there in front of her, I couldn’t stop my cock from twitching. She sat there, looking up at me with those deep blue eyes. Fuck, those eyes. I wanted to swim in those ocean blues all day. Especially with the way they darkened when her tongue lapped the drop of scotch on my thumb.
It made me feral.
I hated to see her go, but I’m thankful because my cock sprang to life at that moment. If she hadn’t walked away, I wouldn’t have been able to hold myself back. I would have taken her right then and there.
But now, here I am, coming to this bar basically every day for the past couple of weeks, hoping to see her back on that bar stool.
She hasn’t been back since that day, but I have hope. At least these trips give me a breather from the chaos of my job and the men I work with. Don’t get me wrong, I love Hunter and Marcus, but sometimes, I need a break from the tension that has come into our relationship lately.
“Of course you’re fucking here...again.” Like he heard my thoughts, Marcus comes around me, pulling the stool closer.
His raven waves bounce as he settles down on it. His golden complexion makes his deep umber eyes look even darker. He is wearing black jeans, Converse, and of course, his white tee with his leather jacket. While his jacket covers most of his tattoos, his hands and neck are exposed, which offers a little taste. He is the perfect mix of handsome and scary. Not what you picture when you think of a “top of his class MIT graduate.”
Not wanting him to see me taking in his sex appeal, I look away. “Is there a problem?” I ask him flatly, swirling my drink.
“Yeah... you are here, again,” he restates, snatching the drink from my hand and downing the rest of my scotch.
“I don’t see the problem.” I grin at him, which causes him to roll his eyes.
“Look, man, I get it. You got your dick hard for some girl, but we need you back at the hotel.” He pushes off his stool, grabbing my arm to pull me along with him.
All the leads on our project have been a dead end. We didn’t have much to build on. I don’t see the rush to go back.
“Why is this so urgent? What’s a few more minutes while I see if the woman of my dreams comes walking back in?”
We make our way out of the bar and down the alley connecting to the street our hotel is on.
Stopping in his tracks, he faces me, shoving me against the brick wall, and causes me to stumble. He stares at me with anger in his eyes. “You met her once. Once. Get your shit together, man.”
I smile widely at the realization. “Jealous?” I chuckle, patting his firm, toned shoulder.
“Of who?”
“Her, me . . . both?” I counter.
He scoffs and turns, making his way back down the alley. “Let’s go. Hunter doesn’t like it when we make him wait,” he shoots over his shoulder.
“I don’t remember at any point in this partnership that we madehimthe boss,” I retort, coming up next to him and elbowing his arm.
He won’t even give me a side glance, and it makes me wonder what has made him so moody today.
I’ve known Marcus Flores since childhood. So, I know his attitudes, his mannerisms, his body language. Fuck, I know him better than anyone, besides Hunter,so I know when something is under his skin. Twenty-five years of friendship and being ex-lovers will do that to you.
“Just shut it and keep walking,” Marcus says through gritted teeth.
Something is definitely going on with him. Well, there is always something going on with Marcus, but this is... extra.
“What’s got your briefs in a bunch, Flores?”
He swings around, closing in on me, backing me up against the wall again. Fuck, is he trying to get me all hot and bothered?
I can’t help but smile at him. “You look upset.”
“No shit,” he spits out, his chest pressed against mine. My breath catches from the sudden change in the air. “You know this project is a big one, and instead of being with us, you are chasing a fucking girl. One you barely know, might I add.” He inhales deeply. “The first thing you did was think with your goddamn dick!” I watch his full lips move, his words on fire just like my groin. “Get your fucking head in the game—”
“I mean, technically, my head is in the game, then,” I interject, wagging my brows at him.
“The right head, Kam, for fuck’s sake.” He pushes off my chest, turning away, but I grab his hand.
