And on that thought... “Could I please have two wet pussy shots and two more of these martinis?” I ask the bartender, pulling my chestnut-colored hair in a bun to keep it out of my face.
“Damn, girl,” Jamie mutters, knowing how drunk we are about to be at the end of this night.
I open my handbag and search for my debit card when a muscled arm drops some cash on the bar in front of me. I glance up from his fingers to his forearm, the veins in his arm catching my eye. I don’t know why, but I’ve always found those attractive in men, and my gaze keeps going upward until my eyes are locked with blue ones.
“I got it.” Shoulder-length blond hair, worn down and around his chin, stubble on his jaw and a confidence I find dangerous.
The blond biker from the restaurant last night. The sexy one who gave me his number, the number that I threw out right after.
“I can pay for my own drinks,” I mutter, pursing my red-tinted lips.
The weird thing is, I actually had a dream about this man last night. An explicit one. I woke up horny as hell, and now he’s standing in front of me in all of his tall, leather-clad glory.
“I remember you!” Jamie says and, unlike me, smiles warmly. She nudges me. “Say hello. And thank you for the drinks.”
“No problem,” he replies, amused.
Our drinks arrive, and I realize he paid for ours but didn’t get himself anything, so I awkwardly offer him my shot. “Wet pussy?”
“I’d love one.” He smirks, taking the shot from me and downing it. “That’s...sweet.”
“Yes, it is.”
Jamie glances between him and me, and then does her own shot. “I’m going to go and have a dance. I’ll be where I can see you.”
She leaves with a wave of her fingers and makes friends on the dance floor with a bunch of women who easily accept her. If I walked over, I don’t think I’d get the same reception. Jamie is just a likable person with a good energy about her. But me? I have my walls up, and people can usually sense that and leave me alone. Most take it as me being a bitch, but I think I do it to protect myself from rejection. Where is Dr. Phil? I’m standing in front of a gorgeous guy and here I am still having my pity party.
“You never texted me,” he points out.
“I did not.” I snap out of my funk. Head in the game, Con. “That unusual for you?”
I study his beautiful blue eyes. When I look at him I see a kindred soul. I recognize the loneliness in his eyes—it’s the same loneliness I see in my own reflection.
He runs his hand over his blond hair as his lip twitches. “I just felt an attraction between us. Maybe it was one-sided.” He turns to face the dance floor with his elbows leaning against the bar.
It definitely wasn’t. Even now, being so close to him, my nipples are hard as ice. I find myself gravitating closer to him until our arms graze and it feels like an injection into my blood stream. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Either way, the sexual chemistry is there all right.
“Not every attraction needs to be acted upon,” I say, looking at him from the side.
He turns to me, which is startling at first. His blue gaze scans mine. “True. But there’s something about you. Do you want to dance?”
A dance couldn’t hurt, right?
I shrug, and he walks backward to the dance floor, offering me his hand. I take it and a zap of electricity goes up my arm. It’s as if I feel a jolt for the first time in a long while.
And I have an epiphany.
In this moment, I’m free.
I feel something.
And it’s been so long since I have felt anything, I’m only realizing that right now. I’ve just been breathing, but not living.
I let him guide me, stopping next to Jamie and her new squad and starting to move to the beat. I’m a little stiff at the start, but when I relax, I get into the music and enjoy myself. I even find myself smiling with him, the two of us close, but not so close that we are touching. He keeps a safe distance, and I respect that.
I make the first move by closing the space between us and pressing my body up against his. His eyes widen ever so slightly, and he’s probably wondering why I’ve decided to be so bold, especially since I turned him down yesterday.
I’m wondering the same thing. But I’m sure I’m just another notch on his belt, so why not allow myself to have a little pleasure? Live a little.
This feeling that I’m having, I don’t want it to stop.
Besides, good sex seems like a distant memory. Maybe that’s why I’m so tense these days. My vibrator might make me come, but it doesn’t give me a connection with another person. And that is what my life is seriously lacking.
We continue to dance for a few more songs, and I find myself letting loose and letting go. He leaves the dance floor and comes back with two bottles of water, and I thank him and drink greedily. He watches me as I lick the water off my lips. Our eyes connect and hold, and I can’t deny the heat there. My gaze drops to his lips, and I find myself wondering how they taste.
“You’re so sexy,” he whispers into my ear, hand on the side of my neck, his lips brushing my skin, sending shivers down my spine. He kisses my neck, but stops to look at me, silently asking for my permission.
He wants me. And fuck it... I want him, too.
I give him a small nod and he goes over to Jamie to say something to her. I’m not sure what it is until I see her saying goodbye to the group of ladies she met on the dance floor. I guess we’re leaving.
We get in a waiting cab and drop Jamie off first. “Text me,” she says with wide eyes as she gets out.
I nod. “I will.”
“Look after her,” she tells him, who promises that he will. It’s in that moment that I realize I don’t even know his name. I should be concerned, scared even, but there is something alluring to the anonymity. To not knowing each other’s names.
Then it’s just me and him in the back of the vehicle, our shoulders and fingers touching, the tension between us thick. I give the driver my address next, deciding I’d rather go to my home than his to maintain a semblance of control.
I want to jump on him, straddle him and kiss him, but then we’d probably get kicked out of the cab, so instead I just sit here, trying to slow my breathing and wait until we get to my house. It doesn’t help when he starts to run his fingers up and down my thigh, and I look straight ahead and wonder if the cabdriver can feel the tension in the car or if it’s just me.
When we finally get to my house, Rhett pays the driver and we both get out. I dig the house key out of my bag, but before I can even put it in the door, he’s on me, lifting me up against the wall, and we’re both kissing frantically. My hair is everywhere, falling on my face, and when he tries to push it out of the way, the keys fall from my hand and onto the floor. I’m so wet that he could just fuck me right now for the world to see without any other foreplay.