by Claire Angel
“Thank you,” she said. “And there I was convinced that chivalry was dead.”
“Sounds like the men of New York need a few lessons in how to treat a rare creature such as yourself,” I said, well aware of how corny it must have sounded.
“Are all the boys in Texas as well-mannered as you?” she asked as I sat down.
“They better be. No letting down the side where I’m from.”
“Well, your mother must be very proud.”
“Enough small talk,” I said. “Which tequila do you prefer, my temptress?”
“You choose,” she said. “I don’t want any accusations afterward when you’re face down on the floor of your room tomorrow morning.”
I smiled and got up. “Excuse me, fair maiden. I’ll be right back.”
I made my way to the bar and selected the most expensive tequila I could find. For some unknown reason, I was intent on impressing this foxy lady. Usually I was the one in control, but something told me Lauren had the upper hand this time round. The barman pulled a bottle from the shelf with tempting amber liquid in it, poised to pour two shots into glasses.
“No need for that,” I said “I’ll have the bottle, thanks.”
The barman looked over to Lauren, then smiled. “Very good, Sir. Enjoy.”
I grabbed the two shot glasses and the bottle and made my way back to Lauren.
“I see you mean business, Mr. Carter.” She giggled as I returned with the spoils.
“You don’t know the half of it, my dear.” I smiled. I sat down and poured each of us a shot glass of the golden elixir. The waiter brought a plate with quartered lemons and a salt cellar to our table.
“I see you’ve done this before,” she said as she reached for the salt cellar, her beautiful fingers wrapping around the glass vessel.
“Once or twice,” I said. “What shall we drink to?”
“Possibilities. Let’s drink to possibilities. Bottoms up!” She licked the salt from her hand, brought her glass up to mine in a toast, and after we touched glasses, she downed the contents of her glass without flinching. Then, she devoured a piece of lemon, again, without flinching. What a woman.
The warming liquid made its way down my throat into my stomach, leaving behind it a feeling of anticipation and excitement.
“You okay there, Chris? You look a little flushed.” She giggled. I was sure she was right, but my glow wasn’t because of the tequila—it was the sight of her tongue playing over her wet lips that did me in.
“Are you kidding? I’m just getting warmed up.”
She threw back her head and let out a throaty laugh—it was sensual, irresistible.
“So, tell me about yourself, Tequila Sheila, before I get legless and unable to speak,” I said to the beauty across from me.
“What would you like to know?” she asked, all the while focused on my eyes. I felt my pants grow tight around the groin area as she held my gaze.
“Do your parents live in New York? Do you have siblings? You know, the standard first date questions.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “A date?”
“Isn’t it?” I asked as she gave me a wicked little grin.
“It could be, if you play your cards right,” she said.
“I’ll try my best,” I said as I poured her another shot. “I promise.”
Chapter 5
LAUREN
I felt the intense magnetism when Chris touched the small of my back. The goosebumps down my spine into my sex was instantaneous. I had plenty of chemistry when it came to my lovers, but this was a beast on steroids. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as his voice arrested my senses. I was thankful that the lights in the lounge were set on dim—I didn’t want him to see the crimson tinge of my cheeks.
Sam and Dave ogled Chris as I introduced him, not that I was surprised—Chris Carter was a gorgeous specimen of a man. Like the prom queen with her football captain, arm candy, I strutted my stuff across the lounge to our table, fully aware that he was checking me out. The busty blonde was there again, looking like a love sick puppy, and a psycho lover, all at the same time. She had it bad, the poor thing. Not that I felt too sorry for her—you win some, you lose some.
I watched Chris as he walked to the bar to get the tequila. He was a ten, which wasn’t a number I bestowed frivolously. Only one other man came close, my ex. He started off as a ten. Unfortunately, his personality after a few months dropped his score to minus three. He turned out to be a solid frog, and no amount of kissing would turn him into a prince.
Most men I dated were painfully predictable, sadly, ‘wham bam, thank you, ma’am’ cretins. It wasn’t as if I dragged the bottom of the loser pond, either. My standards were perfectly reasonable, but it proved more difficult than I first thought.
“So, tell me about Texas,” I said after the second round of tequila shots. “And don’t tell me it’s big.”
He laughed. “Well, there goes my opening gambit, thanks,” he said with a grin.
“Tell me about your parents’ ranch. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to lasso a wild stallion, or have ten pairs of cowgirl boots, y'all.” I pulled a face at his feigned indignation.
“Growing up on a ranch should really be every child’s privilege. Covered in dirt and horse sweat, camping under the stars, exploring the wilderness with at least six dogs in tow—magical!”
I watched his face as he talked about his childhood. He looked so cute, like a naughty little boy. I resisted the urge to grab him and squeeze him until he popped.
“Do you have siblings?” I asked.
“Yup, two brothers and a sister. And quite frankly my brothers are a cake walk compared to my sister. High maintenance doesn’t even begin to describe her. But I adore her anyway. Feisty Texan girl who isn’t afraid to use her pointy boot to get her point across. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up with three hooligan brothers.”
“I like her already,” I said, then realized after I spoke that it must have sounded like I was inviting myself into his family. “What about your brothers?”
“Noah and Ethan are twins. They are the youngest and quite a handful at the best of times. Both very smart, but seriously hyper. They prefer ranch life over a life in the city. Rodeos and how downs, that’s their bag. But you haven’t told me much about you,” he said as he sat back and waited for me to say something.
“Nothing too exciting, really. No cow dung or rodeos in my hood, just concrete and noise. Despite the lack of open spaces and green pastures, I had a fun childhood. My saving grace was the fact that my dad lived for camping trips and hikes. I can find a tick anywhere on my body in record timing,” I said with a grin.
“Good to know. And siblings?”
“No, just me.”
“That must have been a little lonely,” he commented.
“You’d think so, but I had an army of cousins to keep me busy.”
“Are any of them as good looking as you?” He smiled and looked me over, making my stomach dip to my knees.
“Oohh, aren’t you just a regular Casanova? Is that an original line just for me, or does it normally work on the ladies?”
“Ouch!” he said, holding his chest.
“It’s a bit cheesy, but at least you spared me the ‘angel falling from heaven’ crap. I’d have to walk away immediately.”
He chuckled. “Noted. How about we get out of here and take our tequila with us? I’m tired of the voyeurs,” he said as he looked about.
“Yeah, I noticed the president of your fan club hovering over there in the corner. Not sure how many daggers you’ll have to remove from my back when we leave.”
He rolled his eyes as he looked across to where the blonde sat staring holes through us. “Long story,” he said, “and not terribly exciting.”
“You must be really special to have your own fan club,” I said as we got up.
He leaned in, put his lips so close to my ear I felt his breath w
arming my lobe, and said, “I’ll show you if you ask nicely.” Then he took the bottle, held my hand, and led me outside. The giggly teenager in me fought to break free, so I gagged her, just in case.
I couldn’t wait to taste his lips and feel his hard body pressing up against mine. Chris’ hand was warm and his grip unyielding. He was taking charge of me, and it made me dizzy with desire. I was used to being the aggressor in physical relationships, when all I really wanted was a man who had the balls to take me. Chris was off to a good start.
I trembled as we left the lounge, holding onto his hand like he was my special prize for being such a good girl.
“The only place we’ll have some privacy is my suite. Would you like to join me there for a drink?” he asked, his sexy eyes focused on my mouth.
“Okay.” He seemed surprised at my short response.
“What? No warnings? No preaching about respecting you and all that?” he smiled.
“I can take care of myself,” I said. “Have you forgotten where I’m from?”
“I’ll consider that a warning.” He laughed.
“Sexy and smart. Lucky me.”
The elevator doors opened, and we got on. I expected him to kiss me, but he held his ground. The man wasn’t a bumbling hardon looking for a place to happen. I had the feeling that behind his tight ass and billions of dollars was a man who guarded his heart carefully. It made me want him even more.
***
CHRIS
My heart was thundering so hard in my chest, I worried that Lauren would hear it. The elevator ride was Chinese water torture. I wanted so badly to hit the emergency button and ravage every inch of her perfect body, but that would be ridiculous. I didn’t even know if that’s what she wanted, although her eyes told me she wasn’t opposed to the idea.
Her scent was driving me crazy. Lauren was a pheromone bomb! I fantasized about crisscrossing her body with my tongue, and the image made me hard. I hid my groin behind the tequila bottle.
“After you, my dear,” I said as I held open the elevator doors for her. She gave me a cheeky smile. I opened the door to my suite and showed her in.
“Hmm, so this is how the other half lives,” she said as she popped her purse down on the table in the hallway.
“It’s a struggle, but I make due,” I said and headed for the bar to get two shot glasses. I had a nice buzz going on, and there was no way I would let a girl drink me under the table.
“Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said as she walked around the living area, looking about at the art and the decor.
“Thank you,” she said, and stood at the large glass wall. “What a beautiful view of the gardens.”
“It is, isn’t it? The best part is that it’s so private. I could stand naked on the balcony, and no one would see me.”
Lauren turned and smiled at me. She dipped her head slightly and gave me a seductive look. “Oh, really? No drones about, then? No paparazzi hiding behind rose bushes?”
“I guess I’ll know when my naked ass is splashed on the front page of the local French trash mag. I’ll make sure that they don’t see your face, of course.”
She threw back her head and laughed from her belly. I made a face and brought her a drink.
“I have a confession to make,” she said with her index finger hovering above her bottom lip.
“Should I be worried? You’re not a serial killer, are you?” I asked as I edged very slowly toward her, like a lion approaching its prey. Her beautiful face was mesmerizing. Were her green eyes a shade greener just then, or had I imagined it? Her pouty lips were cherry red and wet, and I watched her chest move up and down as she breathed.
“If I said yes, would you run?”
“Some things are worth dying for,” I whispered as I stood toe to toe with the goddess.
“No, I’m not a serial killer,” she said, “but I think it’s only fair to warn you that I don’t get drunk, no matter how much I drink.”
“I’ve got a decent buzz going on here. You’ve matched me shot for shot. How can you not be buzzing?” I asked with surprise.
She laughed and ran her fingers through my hair. “Alcohol does nothing to me.” She giggled.
“Okay, hold on now. Have I just been played, you wicked woman? Were you planning on taking advantage of an unsuspecting, legless innocent?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call you innocent.” She grinned, teasing my earlobe with her fingers.
“I think I better teach you not to lie to a Texan,” I whispered as I ran my finger down her cheek, along her beautiful neck, and over her collar bone. Her skin broke out in goosebumps as my finger trailed the outside of her perfect, full breast. Her nipple stood proud to meet me, hard like a beautiful pink pearl.
“You’re so beautiful,” I breathed into her ear. She let out a soft moan as I ran my hands down her back and pulled her into me. My hardon pushed into her stomach, and her eyes became dreamy as she waited for me to explore her mouth.
I wanted to run my hands through her thick, dark hair, so I tugged at the hair tie that kept her plait in place. She shook her lustrous mane gently from side to side, and I watched as it cascaded over her shoulders and hid her breasts from sight. I couldn’t wait any longer. I covered her lips with mine, exploring every inch of her soft, warm mouth, hungrily, passionately. I knew her lips would taste and feel amazing.
“I just love the taste of second hand tequila,” I whispered in a husky, somewhat breathless voice.
“Now there’s an original line, Mr. Carter. Well played.” She giggled.
I kissed her again, my head dizzy with desire. Her body felt so good pressed up against mine. She was a good kisser, too, not that I doubted she would be—not with her full lips.
I ran my hands down her back and over her sexy, round ass. It felt good to hold a woman who didn’t make it a hobby of sniffing food, rather than eating it. Not that Lauren was even close to over-ample by any means, just not stick insect bony. The goosebumps kept coming as I explored her soft skin. I picked her up and carried her to the chaise lounge where I put her down gently. I kneeled in front of her and looked again into her dreamy green eyes. I thought I saw an invitation in them, or perhaps I was being overly optimistic.
She dragged her fingers through my hair and pulled my mouth to hers. Her warm tongue caressed mine and I felt my cock doing cartwheels, threatening to rip open the zip of my pants. I could tell by her rock hard nipple stand that she was having her own sensual ideas. The excitement level was eleven out of ten, so I buried my face in her neck, making my way slowly from her neck to her throat, licking and kissing as I went.
She let out a little moan as my tongue ran across her collarbone. Her skin tasted like more. I cupped her breast with one hand and held the back of her head with the other, moving my mouth back up to hers.
“I knew you’d be perfect,” I whispered into her ear. She found my mouth again and claimed it, making my tongue a slave to hers. I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted her more than I’d wanted any other woman before. I ran my finger across her nipple and she gasped with pleasure as I did so.
“I want you,” I moaned, and picked her up off the chaise lounge and walked her to the bed. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I couldn’t stop myself from grinding against her. I lay her down gently and ran my hands up the inside of her thighs. She arched her back as my fingers met her core. She reached for me and ran her fingers up from my knee to my awaiting groin.
Somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I heard a phone ringing. Was I losing my grip on reality, or was it Lauren’s phone screaming out a theme song to ‘How to Train Your Dragon?’ Not that I was into animation, but my god child was a rather avid fan, and I’d heard them all from ‘Frozen’ to ‘Despicable Me’, all three of them.
Lauren extracted herself from her trans. “I’m so sorry, Chris. I have to take that,” she apologized and escaped my grasp.
And the moment was gone. Technology was a fickle bitch.
C
hapter 6
LAUREN
FUCK! Trust Sadie to interrupt what was arguably the hottest make out session of the decade. Hell, maybe even the century. Chris was beyond, and I was desperate to explore his exquisite body with my tongue. I should have known better than to leave my phone on ring mode. It was my own stupid fault.
I felt like an idiot, like a teenager whose father had bust in on her first groping session with a boy. I was more than just a little pissed with Sadie. Couldn’t the dragon just leave me the hell alone? What could possibly be that important?
I excused myself, gave Chris’ impressive hardon one more sneaky look, and answered the call of the beast.
“Hello,” I said in an unmistakable pissy tone.
“I just got a call from Adam. He says the Mitchum event is up shit creek without a paddle. Please give him a call and see if you can rescue his useless ass.”
Sure, Satan! Would you like me to pledge my firstborn to you, too?
“Okay, Sadie. I’ll give him a call.”
“Great.” And then she was gone. Like a twister, she’d touched down, destroyed, and left behind nothing but dust and tears.
I turned to Chris, who must have recognized the ‘I’m so sorry but I have to go’ vibe I was letting off, because he buttoned up his shirt, straightened his pants, and walked across to the table to pour himself a tequila.
“Don’t I just feel like a cock tease?” I said, trying to bring a little humor to the situation.
“These things happen, I guess,” he said, like the true gentleman that he was, which made me want him even more. “I take it you have a work emergency?”
“Afraid so. If I don’t take care of it now, I’ll be hung and quartered. My boss has a talent for that sort of thing.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Do you forgive me?” I asked as I grabbed my purse.
“I might. But only if you promise to meet me for dinner tomorrow night.” He smiled at me, and I felt a flutter.