Jo was relieved to see that the crowd had thinned considerably, so he was back within three minutes. Just walking over to her, all sexy and casual in jeans and a tight navy-blue t-shirt that showed his rock-hard abs, all silver grace and black ink, a drink in each hand, as if this was an everyday thing in her life.
He sat down and she reached out for her drink, but he didn’t hand it over. Instead, he looked at her quite severely, his eyes like storm clouds.
“Is something wrong?” Jo stammered. “Did I do something?”
“Yes. You just let a total stranger buy you a drink.”
“Uh,” she said before she could stop herself. “Yes? You offered?”
“What if I’d put something in it?” he asked her. “You’d never know if I had, would you, because you didn’t join me at the bar and watch me.”
“I –” Jo’s mind short-circuited at the implication of his words and without a thought that he’d probably be offended, she blurted out, “Did you put something in it?”
Those incredible eyes flashed bright and dangerous; that full, sensual mouth tightened. Then slowly, carefully, holding her gaze the whole time, he took a long sip of her drink through a straw. Jo watched him swallow, then he took the straw out and put it on the table.
“No, I did not,” he growled as he put in a fresh straw, and slid her drink over to her. “Because I’m not that kind of guy.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’m – I’m out of practice at these things. I guess I have a lot to learn all over again.”
“Is that a fact?” He took a sip of what looked like whiskey. “You just back on the scene, after a long-term relationship?”
“Yes.”
“Ah.” He ran a large hand over his beard. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” she said firmly. “It was my choice to dump Brian the cheating jerk, and I’m freaking thrilled.”
“Then congrats, angel, and good riddance to Brian the cheating jerk.”
“Thanks, querido, and hell to the yeah.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds, then at the exact same time, they started to laugh.
“So.” The man was still grinning at her and Jo’s stomach did a little flip at just how much more gorgeous he was when he was smiling. Oh, she liked the growly, scowly guy with the hard stare just fine, no doubt about that, but when he smiled, those eyes got all sexy-crinkly and glowy silver. They were, she decided now, the most beautiful eyes that she’d ever seen in her life.
“So,” Jo repeated.
“I’m Zeke.” He held out a massive hand, and she admired his strong tattooed forearms. “A pleasure.”
“Ana,” she said, using her middle name from her Mexican grandmother, because what if he ended up being a good-looking psycho killer? Calculated risks were the way to go here, and not using her real name with a random stranger in a dive bar seemed prudent. Despite her slight reserve and caution, she shook his hand for maybe a second too long, liking how her own totally disappeared into its warmth. “The pleasure is all mine.”
“That’s highly doubtful, Ana,” he said, pronouncing her name perfectly, getting the length of the first ‘a’ exactly right. “And maybe slightly selfish, if I may be so bold. I think that mutual pleasure is the way to go. Don’t you?”
Jo blinked, stunned at how quickly things had turned to flirting, mostly because she couldn’t believe that this man was actually flirting with her. Sure, she had pretty slim pickings at the bar in terms of company with the opposite sex, but no way that he did. Jo had noticed how the younger women had followed him with their eyes, how they’d arranged themselves to best advantage as he’d passed, showing off their enviable charms. How they’d stretched and preened a bit, like cats in the sun, made an effort to catch his eye.
But he was here, at this table. With her.
Well. She’d wanted a candidate for her first-ever one-night-stand and the universe had given her a little nod, sent this charming, sexy, gold-silver mythical creature to her. It was like having a unicorn wander into her presence carrying a Margarita, and no way Jo was letting this little miracle evaporate. She didn’t think he’d be Man Number Three – because how the hell could he choose her over the eager young beauties hanging around? – but she was going to bask in the glow of his gorgeousness for a while. Why not?
She wasn’t going to have him for long, so she’d better enjoy him while she did.
“Well, now,” she said, dropping her voice a bit, going for a Mae West, ‘come on up and visit me sometime’ sultriness, remembering that she was an almost-single woman who had the right to spend guilt-free time with a man. “I do think so, Zeke, now that you mention it. Mutual pleasure is indeed a worthwhile goal.”
Those amazing eyes flared again, with amusement this time. “Is that so?”
“It is.” She took a dip of her drink, watched him watch her mouth pulling on the straw, her tongue licking her lips. “So… what kind of thing pleases you?”
“Ohhh, angel.” He shook his head. “That is a long list.”
“Is that so, querido?” she rejoined, channeling the spirit of a sexpot from the silver screen and kicking the flirting up about seven notches. He grinned once more, as if he were happy with her somehow. “So tell me one thing.”
“Just one, huh?”
“Mmmm-hmmmm.”
“Alright then.” He contemplated her for a few seconds, and Jo’s skin prickled under that shining gaze. He leaned forward and beckoned her closer. She obliged him, saw how his eyes flicked down to her cleavage, but unlike the drunk jerk, this didn’t feel invasive or gross. No, it felt pretty damn sexy, actually, and she rolled her shoulders, let the dress material slide a teeny bit lower. “I have a serious weakness for something in particular that gives me a great deal of pleasure, but you can’t tell anyone.”
“OK,” Jo breathed. “I won’t tell.”
“Promise me now.”
“Promise.” She crossed her index finger over her generous, golden breasts, watched him watch the movement as her touch lingered a bit in the silken hollow. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“Good girl,” he murmured, and she knew that he’d seen her nipples tightening at those words. “I’m trusting you now.”
“Understood. It stays between us.” She lowered her voice, forcing him to move closer to hear her words. “What is this particular pleasurable something, Zeke?”
“It’s…” He moved so close that his forehead was almost touching hers, and then he locked his eyes on hers and whispered: “Sweet rosé wine.”
He leaned back, shot a furtive glance around the bar, put a finger to his lips. Jo stared at him, then snorted in the most unladylike, gallumphy way and she didn’t even care, because his response was to throw his blond head back and laugh, exposing a strong throat that she longed to lick.
“Sweet rosé wine?” she said, a hand on her heart to show surprise. “I did not see that coming.”
“I know.” He shook his head sadly. “All I’ve heard my whole life has been how unmanly pink wine is. ‘Real men like whiskey and vodka and tequila,’ they told me. ‘Maybe beer, maybe red wine in a pinch,’ they said. ‘But never pink wine. Never ever.’” He sighed deeply. “It’s been my secret shame. It feels so good to share.”
“Do you have to hide in your closet and drink it under the cover of darkness?”
“How did you know?” he said, feigning shock. “Are you watching me?”
Jo laughed again. “I’ll never tell you about the nanny cam that I’ve hidden in your bedroom.”
“Hmmm, you better not.” He regarded her, grinning widely. “Now you.”
“Now me what?”
“What’s one thing that you find pleasurable?”
“Ohhh. OK. Lemme think.”
“Take your time, sweet thing.” He cocked his head at her, took
a slow sip of his drink. “I’m really curious, I’ve got to tell you.”
And just like that, Jo’s mind went blank. Well, not totally blank, because suddenly all she could think about was all the ways that this man could please her back in her cabin. It was like a highlight reel of her twenty second filthy fantasy – but the guy starring opposite her in it was actually sitting opposite her.
No way she could tell him that she’d be very pleased if he pinned her up against the wall, and savagely ripped her clothes off her quivering body without care or hesitation. She’d also be very pleased if he ran his tongue over her nipples, down her stomach, delved between her thighs, licking her pussy in long, slow strokes before slipping inside, tasting her arousal. She’d be freaking thrilled if he held her down with those massive hands, just held her in place, not letting her wriggle or move away as the feelings got bigger and stronger, as she twisted and writhed and begged. And then, if he let her come on his perfect mouth, if he made her cry out in pure mind-bending pleasure… well. Jo would be in heaven.
She could die never knowing a man’s body again, because – let’s face it – one night with this man would be the pinnacle of pleasure. Or so she imagined and it would stay imagination, because he was clearly just killing time. Being a nice guy.
For now, she had a question to answer, though. Jo summoned all her brain power, scrambled for something semi-articulate. Not so easy with those eyes zeroed in on her, teasing and alert.
“I – I –” Jo took a sip of her drink, felt the tequila move through her body calming and warming. She took a steadying breath. “I just thought of something very pleasurable.”
“Shoot.”
“Long and luxurious…deep and hot…slippery and steamy…” She paused, tilted her head, lowered her voice. “…bubble baths.”
He blinked, then his eyes glazed over a bit and he looked like he was actually thinking about her naked in a tub. She smiled at that, feeling a strange sense of triumph. Like, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d be coming back to her cabin that night, but he did respond to her sexy teasing. Just a bit. There was a glimmer of hope that maybe she’d be able swim in this brave new world of modern dating, instead of sinking like a stone.
For the first time in years, Jo felt her feminine power, her flame of sexuality, her own beauty. She’d thought that power obliterated, that flame quenched, that beauty utterly destroyed by Brian, all just ripped out of her by the years of soul-crushing physical, psychological and emotional violence.
But she’d been wrong, and thank God for that. They were still there after all, somewhere deep inside, lifting their heads out of their cocoons and flickering back to life. The power, the flame, the beauty.
They’re here now.
And for the first time since she’d spotted Zeke walking over to her table, she felt that it might actually happen. That somehow she’d slipped into a parallel universe, one with gold-silver unicorns wandering among the mere mortals, a world where anything, anything was possible.
Suddenly, all Jo could think was:
Maybe. Just…maybe.
**
Silver looked at Ana and all he could think was how much he wanted to see her in a bubble bath. She’d look like a goddess with her dark hair piled up on her head, her skin gold and warm, every inch of her luscious curves bared to his gaze.
And God, what it would feel like to touch her. She’d be molten silk: hot and cool, dangerous and soft. He just knew it.
Besides all the superficial physical stuff, he was thrilled that she was clearly smart and sassy; she’d already made him laugh and he couldn’t seem to wipe what was surely a stupid grin off his face. His father had called women like Ana ‘spark plugs’ and Silver had always had a serious weakness for women who could talk back, stand up, give back as good as they got.
And Ana had spark and spirit in goddamn spades.
Oh… and she had a body that was practically giving Silver a coronary on the spot. Win-win, in his opinion, because women with curves and brains were his personal kryptonite. God, he hoped that she lived around here and was open to seeing him again next time he was over this way – even just for a drink and a laugh. Because as much as Silver wanted this woman in his bed, he’d take her smiling at him like this any day, if that was all that was on the table. It wouldn’t even feel like much of a hardship, really.
After all, it was a pretty incredible smile.
She was sitting and gazing at him with that smile, clearly enjoying the effect that the words ‘bubble bath’ had had on him. Hell, he was scrambling for words as image after image of Ana’s naked, soaped-up body flashed through his brain and she knew it. He shook his head now, raised his glass to her.
“Let’s drink to that,” he said, his voice a bit raspy with desire. “To bubble baths.”
“Mmmm-hmmm,” she responded in that surprisingly husky, honey-dripping voice, raising her own glass. “And to men who love sweet wine.”
And bam, just like that, Silver imagined himself on his back, Ana on her knees above him, riding his hungry mouth. He’d run his tongue along her pussy and clit until she shuddered, cried out, came for him. Then he’d drink her sweetness, not waste a single drop, just take every bit of her arousal into his mouth before flipping her down and over, position her to take his cock, position her for his own pleasure.
Goddammit. This woman is the purest devil that I’ve ever met.
“So,” she said, clearly flustered and looking to quickly change the subject. “Do you know the woman behind the bar? You were talking to her for a really long time.”
He grinned, not ready to drop the flirting quite yet. “You were watching me, huh?”
Just as he’d hoped, she blushed deeply, and it just made her more beautiful. The pink made her glow and he imagined that’s how Ana looked after climaxing hard for her man, after letting go and giving all of herself to him.
“Uh,” she responded. “A bit. Maybe.”
“I like that, sweet thing.” Silver took a sip of his whiskey and suddenly found himself ready to completely drop the scowling, silent persona. He felt his more talkative and relaxed side come out in her warm presence, and so he settled deeper into his chair. “And yes, I know Nell very well. Known her a long time, about seven years now.” He waved his hand around the room. “She owns this place and she named it after her husband. Well, kind of. Her man had long red hair, a huge red beard and a blazing temper to match – so when he bought her this bar Nell suggested to him calling it The Roaring Red, just as a joke. But he was able to laugh at himself just fine, and thought the name was great. So The Red it was and still is. It’s a nice tribute now too, because he died just over a year ago.”
“Really?” Ana looked over at Nell again, those amazing eyes very gentle. “I’m sorry to hear that she lost her husband.”
“Oh, man, I was too. Gunner was a great man, a true friend. He’d do anything for anyone, all they had to do was ask once. Shirt off his back kinda guy. One of the best.”
“Gunner?” She stared at him, her forehead wrinkled in the most adorable way imaginable. “Was he – is that a road name?”
Silver raised his eyebrows at that. “You know motorcycle club terminology, do you? You a biker babe?”
“I – I – well.” She looked down at the table, shrugged those gorgeous bare shoulders. “Not really, no more than anyone else, I suppose. I mean… I watch ‘Sons of Anarchy’, like half the planet.”
“Do you now?” Silver leaned back, liking the turn this conversation had just taken. “You have a thing for MC guys?”
Please, please, please have a thing for MC guys. Not that I’ll tell you that’s what I am.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never met one.”
Wrong, angel. But that’s my little secret.
She looked across the room at where The Howling Highwaymen wer
e standing, drinking and laughing in their usual loud pack. “I mean – I’m guessing they’re an MC, right?”
“Yep. They’re Gunner Patton’s boys, the Highwaymen. He bought this place ten years ago, as an investment and a place got Nell to work while he ran the club. Of course he and the boys drank here when he was President, but it’s never been a club bar exactly, since Nell’s always run it as open to the general public and Gunner encouraged that.”
“He didn’t want this place to be the exclusive club watering hole?”
“Nope, not even a little bit,” Silver replied. “He wanted Nell to have something of her own and separate from the club, because that life can he rough and dangerous, and can go sideways pretty damn fast. He wanted his wife to have some stability, just in case something happened to him and she’d be left alone in the world having to make her way.”
“But wouldn’t the club have helped her if Gunner died or got hurt or something, and she didn’t have any kind of safety net?”
“Oh, sure.” Silver ran his hand over her face, wished that he’d shaved that morning. “That’s the deal with these guys, they take care of their own and their families, but still – Nell’s fiercely independent and Gunner knew that woman better than anyone. He knew that she’d want to earn her own money and he gave her something to help her do that.”
“Wow.” Ana looked over at Nell again, admiring how her long hair glowed like a moonlight river down her back “Well… I think she’s beautiful. I have to admit that she sort of freaked me out when I first got here, but I guess she has to be smart and tough.”
“Hell, yeah. Running a bar ain’t no picnic at the best of times, but throw in the MC element, even a pretty benign one, and you’ve got a situation that requires a strong hand.”
“And so you know Nell from here? You’ve been a customer for a while?”
Silver paused, took a sip of his drink, giving himself time to get the lie straight in his head. Of course he knew Nell through Gunner, from back in the day when The Road Devils were one-percenters and did pretty regular trading and transport business with The Howling Highwaymen. The Highwaymen were still into shady shit to that day, naturally, mostly drug and gun running, though they kept it out of The Red and always had. That had been one of Gunner’s rules and the club had never even once broken it, out of respect for both their deceased Prez and his wife.
The Devil's Silver (The Road Devils MC Book 2) Page 4