Contemporary Nights Volume One

by C. J. Ellisson

  By the end of the evening, she hoped to be hot and sweaty from dancing, but for now the blue-lit background would do.

  Once her eyes adjusted, she stepped through the entryway and headed for an open barstool.

  Chapter Two

  “Here’s to us!” Charlie and Jenny raised their glasses, but instead of drinking, they locked lips in a kiss with way too much tongue. Again.

  Trent Mulherin took a swallow of his scotch and allowed the smoky liquid to flow down his throat. “Why don’t you guys go on up to your room? I’m getting tired of all this kissy-kissy stuff.” He grinned at his childhood friends who’d not relented in bugging him until he agreed to come to Las Vegas and witness their impromptu wedding ceremony.

  Jenny leaned across the table to press a kiss on the tip of his nose. “I love you, Trent. Thank you for coming. It would not have been this perfect without you.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He waved her away. Truth be told, he envied their free-spirit lifestyle. They flew to Vegas to get married to avoid all the drama from their well meaning but domineering parents. The fact they managed to have a great time while doing it amazed him. He’d actually enjoyed the silly wedding at the overly decorated chapel on a side street to the point of getting teary-eyed when the two whooped in excitement once pronounced husband and wife.

  He could never do it. His mother would take to bed and cry for days over the lost opportunity of hosting the society event of the year, especially since he had been named Charleston’s most eligible bachelor in the city’s magazine last month. A fact he’d yet to live down with his friends, who ribbed him mercilessly.

  If he did anything like the pair before him, Trevor Mulherin, his father, would no doubt disinherit him just for making his mother cry. It did not matter that Trent no longer needed any of the family money. On the brink of starting his own marketing company, he didn’t depend on the family fortune for anything.

  Admittedly he was a family man. The idea of causing either of his parents distress didn’t sit well with him. With all their quirks, they were his family and meant the world to him.

  Charlie and Jenny smooched again. Trent looked away and waved for the waitress, signaling her for another drink.

  “Do you want to dance?” Jenny tore her eyes away from her new husband and lifted a brow at Trent. “We can boogie for a bit so you don’t have to sit here by yourself.”

  “He’s a guy, honey.” Charlie laughed. “We’re probably cramping his ‘most eligible bachelor’ style by hanging out with him.”

  Trent’s cell phone rang and he hit the decline key sending whoever straight to voice mail. Jenny wrinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes. “It’s Miranda isn’t it? Your ice princess has been depleting your cell phone battery just to make sure you behave.”

  Miranda. As if on cue, his cell phone buzzed again in his pocket, it was probably her again. She refused to accompany him to the wedding, declaring Las Vegas to be “excessively tacky” and yet hounded him constantly by phone and email since they arrived.

  “Get out of here, you two. Go on.” Trent waved them off as the waitress brought a fresh drink. He held it up to his friends and announced, “I’m going to call it a night after I finish this.”

  Neither of them moved. Instead stayed in their seats seeming uncertain. Charlie shrugged after a while. “I don’t know, Trent, maybe we can wait for you to finish your drink.”

  Trent raised an eyebrow and swung his gaze towards the bar. “What if I told you I spotted a pretty lady at the bar and plan to buy her a drink?”

  “Oh, yeah right,” Charlie replied with a hearty laugh. “I’ve never seen you strike out before, but that group over there… might eat you alive.”

  He looked at the bar. Other than a group of middle-aged women who looked like they were ready to fall off their barstools, howling with laughter, and a trio of bored businessmen, the rest of the seats at the long bar remained empty.

  Jenny stood and pulled at Charlie. “Come on, let’s go, babe. Let’s give Trent some space, with any luck he’ll find a Miranda replacement.”

  The couple finally made their way past the bar. Trent shook his head and laughed when Charlie turned back and blew him a kiss while Jenny grabbed the back of his collar and dragged him out the door.

  Would he ever find a life partner and be like them? Someone who would make him laugh like Jenny did his friend? Someone fun, down to earth, a woman who wasn’t interested in him just because of his money.

  The cell buzzed again and he pulled it out of his pocket. Miranda again. He turned the device off, leaned back, and took a long draw from his glass.

  Movement at the entrance caught his attention. A woman peered in and lingered at the doorway as if contemplating whether to enter or not. From the light behind her, he could tell she was curvy, with a slender waist and killer legs.

  The beauty walked in and seemed to glide toward the bar. His eyebrows flew up. With long smooth brown hair down her back and pouty lips, she was a stunner. She wore animal print heels that screamed to be wrapped around some lucky man’s waist. Her red dress accentuated every curve of her voluptuous body.

  With a swing of her head, her hair flipped behind her shoulder as she walked.

  He eyed the businessmen at the bar who remained oblivious to her presence. They stared into the blue backlit shelves behind the bartender or into their drinks. Well, he’d be damned if one of them got a chance to talk to her first. Trent grabbed his drink, and with an air of confidence, made his way toward the long shiny bar.

  Keeping a slow gait, he caught her out of the corner of his eye before sitting with one barstool between them. He turned his attention away from her and lifted his hand to the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgment and finished mixing an already ordered drink.

  When the bartender headed toward him, Trent ordered another scotch and then looked to the woman. “If you want to order a drink, better catch him before he slips away.”

  Coffee colored eyes met his and then looked to his half empty glass. She smiled at the bartender who immediately parked in front of her. “I’d like the Bellini Blush please.”

  The husky southern accent melted over him. Unfortunately it seemed to have the same effect on the bartender whose smile widened. “It’ll be on the house,” he murmured, ignoring Trent’s eye roll.

  “Thank you,” she replied, the “you” sounding more like “queue.” After the barkeep left, she shrugged and smiled at Trent. “Maybe if you had ordered the house special drink, he’d given it to you free too.” Her eyes sparkled with mirth and he shook his head.

  “Drink too many of those girlie concoctions and you’ll have not only a killer headache in the morning but an upset stomach as well.” He lifted his scotch. “Now this—drink too many of these and I can still function perfectly tomorrow. Maybe a bit slower, but I’d still have my wits about me.”

  “Humph.” Challenge vibrated from her direct gaze. “What I think is you can’t handle a Bellini. It’s okay, you don’t have to admit it. But I think just one of those and you’ll be on the floor. I can drink three or four Bellini’s and still wake up quite well.”

  “I doubt it,” he grinned.

  Before he could say anything more, the bartender returned with what looked more like a cake than a beverage. The fruity frozen concoction was layered in an oversized tall wine goblet and topped with a pile of whipped cream. The guy had outdone himself, by sticking a skewer of fruit on the side that unfortunately slopped off and landed on the bar counter with a sturdy plop. The comical effect brought a chuckle that earned Trent a glare from the guy behind the bar.

  “Oh goodness,” the pretty woman exclaimed, her eyes wide. “It’s so much bigger than I expected. I don’t know if I can finish this.”

  “Much less three,” Trent couldn’t help but remark.

  “It’s beautiful,” she praised the bartender who seemed to melt at her bright smile. He scooped up the fruit kabob promising her a new one, his eyes drinking her in.
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br />   Trent waited for the guy to go make another fruit kabob monstrosity and looked to the pretty woman who took a tentative sip. “I’m Trent Mulherin, from Charleston.”

  She took a second sip from her drink. “Oh,” she said closing her eyes and swaying. It was the first time a woman swooned at his name. “This drink is absolutely dreamy.” Her lips curved and although his name wasn’t what caused the swoon, it still made his insides warm. She held out her hand. “I’m A...Leigh Mason, from Atlanta.”

  “A Lee Mason?”

  “No, no, sorry.” She laughed at some inside joke he didn’t understand. “My name is Leigh Mason,” and then she proceeded to spell it. They were still holding hands when the bartender returned, his eyes went to their clasped hands and he scowled while not so gently plopping the fruit into her drink.

  “Trent.” Leigh got his attention. “What if we switch drinks and you try mine and I, yours.”

  “You want me to trade my scotch for your fruit salad?” He laughed at her expectant expression. “I don’t think so.”

  “Just as I figured.” She slipped her hand from his and took another draw from the long pink straw. “You can’t handle the mighty Bellini Blush.”

  The smooth amber liquid slid down his throat and Trent eyed the colorful swill. Then he slid his scotch across the countertop to end in front of Leigh. With a grimace, he slid her concoction closer.

  After taking a deep breath, he sucked the mixed drink through a second straw. “Gah!” He fought the urge to spit the overly sweet liquid and forced it down instead. Then to make a point that he would not give up, he took another sip ensuring it went straight past his tongue. “Your turn now.”

  Brows drawn, she looked the scotch. “There isn’t much left in here.”

  “It’s more than half what I got.”

  “Really?” Her mouth fell open. “It’s looks like he gypped you. You should ask him for more.” Leigh lifted the small glass and sniffed it. Her eyes widened. “Oh my goodness! It smells like gasoline.”

  “You don’t have to drink it.” Trent reached for it, but she shook her head.

  “No. I’m not one to back down from a challenge.” He watched closely as she tipped the glass up to her lips, jealous of the glassware when it pressed against them. To his surprise she almost purred in delight. “Wow, I hate to admit it, but this is so smooth and smoky. I love it.”

  “You do?” Pride swelled at his good choice in single malt scotch. “I’ll order you one.”

  Leigh waved his offer away. “No, thank you, I have to keep my wits about me and you are correct, this drink here would knock me senseless.”

  She lifted her eyes to his and his gut actually pitched. “I give. You win, I don’t think I could drink scotch and be able to walk out,” she said and winked at him. The slow sexy lowering of her lashes immediately made his friend down under spring to attention. “What about you, can you handle mine?”

  Trent took another large sip to show off. “No problem, but it’s too sweet for me, so you can have it back.”

  Her elbow slid forward on the countertop when she leaned to wave the bartender over. Of course the guy hurried back. At Leigh’s naughty smile, the guy’s pose with his elbows on the bar mirrored hers, his eyes moving to her cleavage. “Would you please make me another Bellini Blush? Don’t forget the fruity kabob.”

  The bartender’s wide-eyed gaze slipped to hers focusing on the glass in front of Trent and he slid it closer to Leigh.

  When the bartender walked away, Leigh shrugged. “You know it’s strange but for some reason I’m already feeling a bit tipsy.” Her hand shot to the edge of the bar to keep her balanced on the stool.

  “I’ll be here to save you if you fall,” Trent replied then felt the room sway. Damn, hopefully he would stay on his own stool.

  Chapter Three

  Amy Leigh had to admit, it had been a long time since she’d laughed so much. If she’d met the hunky Trent in Sweetgum, they would’ve never had the opportunity to say more than hello.

  She’d not dated in a long time, it was damn near impossible for her. If a new single man arrived in Sweetgum and was halfway decent, by the time she saw him, the poor thing was either running scared or claimed. And then there was her ex, Jay “Butthead” Daley. With his constant “accidental” stalking and dropping by with copies of keys he had made. She really needed to set him straight, but it was hard with him being a nice guy. A nice cheater, but still it was difficult for Amy Leigh to be mean to Jay.

  She studied the handsome man at the bar. Trent gave her a crooked smile and blinked a couple times, probably getting a bit tipsy from the mixture of drinks.

  With his good looks and his obviously very expensive tailor made clothing, he was way, way, super way out of her league. Amy Leigh admired how the dim lights accentuated his wavy chestnut hair. His nose was straight, his jawline square. On occasion when he shifted she took note of the fact that his arms were well formed, stretching the fabric of his clothing to accommodate them. And thanks to his loosened tie and undone top shirt button, light wisps of chest hair caught her attention. Wow, she’d love to explore further down that trail to the promise land.

  “I give,” Trent said and held both hands up after finishing only half of the Bellini Blush she’d ordered for him. “You win.” He pouted and she imagined how easy it must have been for him as a child, if he pulled that look on his mother.

  And of course she relented. “You don’t have to drink it, but you lost the challenge, so you will have to pay for it.”

  “How?” His lips curved into the crooked grin. Holy moly. Amy Leigh’s mouth fell open and she took a big breath, Trent was definite man candy and she was starving.

  “A kiss.”

  The door slammed shut behind them. Mouths fused, both taking turns dominating the other, neither of them took notice if the door locked or not. The intensity of her attraction to Trent Mulherin lit a fire through her entire body. Amy Leigh moaned when his hand cupped her ass and pulled her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his slender hips and her arms around his shoulders refusing to remove her mouth from his.

  His naughty tongue delved past her lips while at the same time, his hard cock ground between her legs. Oh yeah, she’d died and gone past the clouds and rainbows straight into a pot of gold.

  The next thing she knew her back was against the wall. His mouth slid to her neck where his tongue did very imaginative things.

  Amy Leigh slid her hand down his wide back, into his pants, down to grab his taut ass. Her fingers trailed to the crack of his firm delicious butt and Trent responded with a hard buck into her. His deep groan vibrated at her throat sending tingles over her.

  “I want you naked.” Amy Leigh couldn’t believe the words she’d uttered out loud, but it seemed to have turned into a night of firsts. What the hell, she might as well go for it. After all she was a thirty-year-old woman now. “Take your clothes off, Trent,” she said with a growl.

  “You took the words right out of my mouth.” Darkened eyes bore into hers; his kiss-swollen lips curved into a haughty grin. There were so many places she wanted that mouth to go.

  Lowering her legs to the floor, he insured she was steady before backing away. Never breaking eye contact, his hands went to his tie and those long nimble fingers unknotted the fabric and pulled it off, material slipping easily around his neck. He made the simple act of removing a tie erotic. Amy Leigh wondered if she’d be able to watch a man remove his tie without thinking of this moment.

  “Now you take off something,” he said with his hands poised at the buttons on his cuffs.

  Amy Leigh looked down; the only thing she wore was a dress, bra, and panties. With a shrug, she reach up and unzipped the dress.

  “Look at me,” his husky voice commanded and she lifted her gaze to meet his.

  The dress slid from her shoulders to her waist. She had to maneuver it past her hips, but the fact she was curvy didn’t bother her in the least when Trent gave an app
reciative slow whistle.

  “Where the hell have you been hiding?” he asked quickly unbuttoning his shirt, gaze skimming over her body. “You’re perfect. I want to touch every inch of you.”

  Standing only in her panties, bra, and heels, Amy closed the distance, stopping a few inches from him. When he reached for her, she pulled away and shook her head. “Not until you remove that shirt. Hurry.”

  As the black and grey shirt slid from his wide shoulders, her throat went dry. In spite of the anticipation in his eyes, his upbringing took over. He moved away and hung the shirt over the back of the chair. His undershirt followed and she couldn’t keep from gawking. Muscles rippled under his tanned skin with every move he made, the display taunting her to touch and take. The man was at least a demi-god.

  He lifted an eyebrow at her. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

  She kicked off her shoes.

  Amy Leigh shrugged. “Now you.”

  Trent didn’t waste any time. He unbuckled his belt and removed his pants and underwear with one fluid motion.

  “Sweet mother of everything that has ever breathed,” Amy whispered. She’d only seen men like him on Pinterest, and here she thought they were all gay. “I would so love to take a picture of you right now and pin it.”

  The tall rendition of a fantasy closed the distance between them. “Is that a compliment?” All six foot three inches of perfect nudity stood before her. Amy finally understood why women swooned in the olden days.

  Unable to take her eyes off of him, she moved backward to the bed.

  Amy gazed at the wonderfully erect man standing before her. As she sat on the bed, his standing ovation was at the right level for kissing.

  “It is definitely a compliment.” She pressed her lips to the tip of his erection. She lifted her eyes to his rounded ones and bit her lip while smiling. “I had to do that.”