CHAPTERTWO
BRANDON
Her breath came hot andheavyagainst the thin flesh of myear lobe as her fingers crept their way over the shoulders of my leatherjacket, and down along the lapels against my chest. I felt her breasts, heavingagainst my back, and with a giggle that seemed to tickle the tiny hairs leadingdown to my ear canal, she asked if I’d like to show her “my sword” back at herplace. Why we would travel somewhere else and not up to my hotel room, I didn’tunderstand, and with an impatient sigh, I told her that,no, I wasn’tinterested in checking out her apartment, andno, I wasn’t interested inplaying Show & Tell.
“Idon’treallythink you have a sword,” she laughed through thehowever-many-drinks she had consumed. “ImeantI want to see …” Hermuddled voice trailed off as she made her way around my bar stool, her handsdiving for the fly on my jeans.
Andthat was my cue.
Beforeher hands could fumble their way through the difficult task of unzipping mypants, I stood up from my seat, placing my hands firmly on her bare shouldersto keep her from tipping over.
“So,that’s a yes?” she asked me, her eyelids only half-open as she gazed up at me.“I’vealwayswanted to have sex withtheB. Davis.”
“Always,huh,” I muttered absentmindedly, fishing my wallet from my back pocket. Ipulled out a few bills and threw them on the bar.
“Oh,m’God,yeah,” she breathed, her breath lacedwith alcohol as her eyelids folded over in a slow blink. They opened partially,gazing up at me with enough hope to break my heart. “Youare theha-hottestmanever,” she said sloppily, jabbing a finger in the center of mychest.
Myeyes looked to her with sympathy, and for just a fragment of time, I gave myselfpermission to appreciate her beauty. A youthful face, untouched by the harshreality of age, while her body possessed the curvature brought on by justenough maturity to make her supple and seductive. Successfully ignoring myscreaming male instincts, I wouldn’t allow my eyes to make a spectacle oftraveling down her hourglass figure, but I knew it was there, remembering herfrom earlier at the bookstore. With the amount ofpeopleI met, it was a wonder I remembered anybody at all, but I always seemed toremember the ones who found me later on. The desperate ones. The ones thatneeded to find themselves between the sheets of their bed or mine; it didn’tmatter which, as long as that was the end result to their efforts. All of thosehours spent doing their hair and makeup and picking out the right outfit, itall had to amount to something, but it never did.
Itnever would.
“Wheredo you live?” I asked, speaking slowly, and through her excitement and slurredtone, I got her address and wrote it down on the pad of paper I kept in thepocket of my jacket. I helped ease her onto the stool I had just been sittingon and made sure she was sitting steadily before removing my hands from hershoulders.
AsI was busy asking the bartender for a couple cups of coffee, the blonde withperfectly tousled hair slipped a finger through one of the belt loops on myjeans and tugged in a failed attempt to pull me between her spread thighs. Herdress had gathered, putting the skintight garment just somewhere below groin leveland I kept my eyes forward as I watched the bartender pour the pot of coffeeinto a couple of mugs I hoped were clean.
“ButI don’tneedcoffee, baby.” She walked her fingers up the front of myt-shirt before tracing the neckline with her sharpened nails. “I just need topull that hair and ride your—”
Awelcome interruption cut in as the bartender slid the mugs over to my waitinghands. “Here you go, Mr. Davis. Can I get you anything else?” He eyed theblonde with narrowed eyes. “Security, perhaps?”
“Actually,if you could call a cab for this young lady here, I would really appreciate it.Make sure she gets in safely.” I handed him the piece of paper with her addressalong with a hundred-dollar bill.
“Ofcourse, sir,” he said with a curt nod and promptly picked up the phone.
Iturned back to the pouting young woman, who looked more and more like a childwith the ticking of the clock, and handed her one of the mugs.
“Butt-they said that you did this,” she whined, scowling up at me. “And I don’tlikecof-coffee.”
“Justdrink it,” I instructed, and as though I possessed the tongue of Houdini, shedid as I demanded. “Who’s ‘they’?” I inquired, but I knew all too well who“they” were.
“They,”as she began to sloppily iterate, were the ones my team referred to lovinglyas,TheCrazies. The fans that took to the internet while hiddenbehind their computer screens, to blast the message boards and various socialmedia outlets with the things they wished were true. Rumors that I was datingsomeone of note, or more commonly, that I had bedded a legion of fans after asigning, or some other event. These convoluted, and untrue, stories were thereason for the occasional hotel visit from a hopeful fan looking for their ownbragging rights.
“What’syour name?” I gently asked her, after she finished telling me about the womenshe had befriended on Twitter.
“T-Tracey,”she said in a quiet voice. The brazen vixen that previously sat there hadwilted, leaving behind someone’s little girl. Her legs had closed as a hand struggledto tug the garment into a more appropriate position.
“Tracey,”I parroted. She looked up at me from her empty mug. Her big hazel eyes held aninnocence that chipped away at my rock-solid heart. “I guesstheyneglected to tell you I like my women dressed-up like cowgirl Orcs, huh.”
Shebit on her lower lip, a barely-visible line appearing across her forehead. Herchin tucked to gaze disappointedly at the skintight dress she had chosen forthe night’s expedition. “You do?”
Irubbed a hand over my eyes, releasing a heavy sigh. “Good Lord … Don’t believeeverything you read online, okay? I think you’re smarter than that, and I alsothink you’re better thanthis.”
“Howdo you know?” The shame dripped from her voice like molasses, coating and suffocating.
“Because,”I said, barely touching my hand to her shoulder, “if you weren’t, you wouldn’thave needed all that booze to come down here.”
Shecracked a little smile. “So, if I wasn’t drunk, you would have slept with me?”
“Oh,hell no,” I stated incredulously and watched the fleeting optimism wash fromher face. I put my own empty mug down on the bar as the bartender came over totell us the cab had arrived. “But hey, I also wouldn’t have sat here drinkingcoffee with you, and I definitely wouldn’t have made sure you got home safe, soI guess there’s that.”
