Oh, jeez. I like that endearment coming out of his mouth way too much. It sounds delicious in his worn-leather tone.
"Dawson." The lie slips out without my permission.
"Miranda Dawson. I'm Jason Kirby."
"It's nice to meet you, Jason Kirby." I smile at him.
His eyes connect with mine over the rim of his bottle as he brings it to his lips and takes a sip. His throat works, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.
I squirm for real this time. I can't help it. I kind of want to be that bottle right now, gripped in that big hand and touching those full lips. I bet he tastes even better than he looks.
He notices my reaction, pinning me in a gaze that makes my heart thump hard against my ribcage. He's a lion scenting his prey. His nostrils flare, his steel blue eyes darkening. He leans toward me, bringing the rest of his face into focus.
Good gravy. He's Thor, without the giant hammer and cape. He's older than me, at least thirty-five or thirty-six.
"I haven't decided if I'm riding or not," I tell him, bringing my glass to my lips to take a greedy sip. The cold water doesn't cool me down any.
"You afraid of a little challenge?"
"No."
"You sure about that, baby?"
Am I? I shrug, suddenly not so sure because I don't think he's talking about riding the bull. He's talking about himself, I think. Because there is definitely something happening between us. I feel it like a gong striking in my soul. It's…terrifying. Like getting stuck in your sports-bra after a shower when you're home alone terrifying.
I don't even know him, but I want to. He's different than anyone else I know, fascinating in ways my dad's friends will never be. They're all about their image and how they look. I don't think Jason Kirby gives a damn what anyone thinks about him.
"Why are you sitting all alone in the corner?" I ask when he gives me another of those half-smirks that do crazy things to my insides. My cheeks heat, but if he notices that I'm prying for intel, he doesn't call me out on it.
"Came alone," he says with a shrug, his eyes tracking back and forth across my face. "You?"
"Same."
He smirks at me. "You plannin' to leave alone, Miranda?"
"Maybe. You?" I take another sip of my water, trying to play it cool.
His smirk grows.
"What brings you here?" He stands out. Honestly, I think he'd stand out anywhere, but this doesn't look like his scene. He's too put together for a dive bar.
"Babysitting."
I wrinkle my nose. "Fun. Family?"
"Nah," he says, taking another pull from his bottle. His lips turn down into a scowl, irritation in his steely eyes. "Some spoiled little rich girl and her friends. Guess my boss is trying to keep her safe and happy or some shit. I don't ask questions."
He shifts in the booth and then slides out, setting his beer on the table. Good lord, he is tall. I'm five six and he towers over me. He's also bigger than I thought. His broad shoulders block out the rest of the bar when he steps up in front of me. His thighs stretch the limits of his slacks.
He holds his hand out toward me. "Come on, Minnie."
"Where?" I ask…not that the answer seems to matter because I'm already slipping my hand into his and letting him pull me to my feet. My body grazes his and my nipples turn to hard little points. He smells like amber and wood smoke. The combination is decadent, delicious.
"Going to give you your first ride, baby."
As soon as the words leave his lips, an image slams into my mind of him on his back beneath me, claw marks in his pecs and sweat gliding down his taut abdomen. His lip is caught between his teeth, a look of intense pleasure on his face.
My legs turn to rubber and I stumble.
"How much have you had to drink, Miranda?" He slides his arm around my waist, squeezing lightly.
"I'm not drunk," I promise, which is true. I've only had a shot of tequila and a beer, and I worked most of that off on the dance floor with Joey and Lauren. "Just not used to these heels."
He glances down at my feet and then rakes his gaze slowly up my body. When his eyes meet mine this time, they're dark. His tongue dances across his bottom lip. "I like the heels."
"That's because you aren't wearing them," I mumble, fighting the urge to climb his big body to bite his lip.
He chuckles and then taps me on the hip. "Let's go."
"Where?" I let him guide me away from the table.
Joey catches my eyes from the dance floor. He gives me two thumbs up and waggles his brows, telling me without words that he finds Jason Kirby irresistibly hot too. Judging by the way every other woman in here is looking at him, so do they.
But he doesn't seem to notice them as he leads me through the throng, headed toward…
Oh, no.
"You're not serious."
"You afraid?" He tilts his head in my direction, cocking a brow in challenge.
"No."
His lips quirk again. "Liar."
I open my mouth to tell him that my dad will lose his mind if pictures of this get out, and then snap it closed again without saying anything. I don't want to tell this man about my dad. I like the way he's looking at me like no one else exists. I'm not so sure he'll look at me the same if I tell him who I am. He didn't seem thrilled to be here looking after some rich girl. I don't want him to know I'm a spoiled little rich girl too.
"I'll ride on one condition," I blurt out before I lose the nerve.
"Name it."
"You're riding with me."
"Sit up close to the head and hold onto the handle with your right hand," Jason murmurs in my ear once we're seated on the bull ten minutes later. He grips my hips and slides me forward a bit. "Use your thigh muscles to grip the sides of the bull and keep your other hand away from your body to help you balance."
"Okay," I whisper. My heart is racing, but I think that has more to do with the man pressed up against me than it does with the bull between my thighs. The heat coming off his big body has me fighting the urge to melt into his broad chest. His scent is all around me, intoxicating me.
I'm so turned on, it's almost painful, and I'm not the only one. I can feel his erection digging into my back. Every time he shifts, I fight the urge to whimper his name.
I think I want to break that third rule tonight. I didn't come here with Jason, but I want to leave with him. We don't even know each other, but I have never felt like I do right now. The bar is crowded with people, half of whom are cheering us on all around the fenced-off safety area, but it feels like we're the only two people in the world.
"You good?" he asks.
No. I'm on the verge of orgasming in front of a bar full of people.
"How do I keep from being thrown off?"
"Move your body with the bull, pretty baby." He moves in close, pressing his lips to my ear. "Pretend it's me between your thighs. That's what I'm goin' to imagine."
My entire body clenches tight and I can't fight back the whimper this time. It slides from my lips like a moan pulled from deep inside me.