When Lightning Strikes (The Storm Inside Book 3)

by Alexis Anne

  He smiled the moment I caught his eye and I held up a finger where Grace couldn’t see to let him know to play it cool. He got the message loud and clear, pushing back his chair and leaning back casually as I approached.

  “What are you up to, Marie?”

  “You see my friend back there? She wanted me to come hit on you. She’s been up my skirt all night, so I thought I’d give her a little show. You game for that, Rogers?”

  His grin widened and his eyes lit up. “You don’t have to ask me twice. This is my brother, by the way.”

  I glanced over at the equally gorgeous man across from Kevin and held out my hand. “Marie Bancroft.”

  He stood and took my hand with a little half bow. “Kyle Rogers. I take it you are the ‘Bancroft’ in Bancroft Sports?”

  “That would be the one. What do you do, Kyle?” Based on his physique he could absolutely be an athlete like his brother, but he wasn’t my client, so I was betting not.

  “Stunt coordinator for television and movies.”

  That explained things. “No desk jobs for the Rogers boys, huh?”

  Kyle moved over to the empty chair and pulled it out for me. “Naw, mom always said we had too much energy to sit still for long. She got us both in sports early on. Kevin was more of a team player while…well, I liked to be a dare devil.”

  “BMX?”

  He grinned. “Among many other things. Let’s just say when parkour and the whole free running phenomenon came along, I was the happiest teenager in Gainesville.”

  I glanced back and forth between the sexy, well-dressed brothers. “You two are ridiculously good looking.” As I looked around the restaurant I realized how many female eyes were wandering over to this table over and over again. “First of all, I need to get you two into some sort of sponsorship deal. We are losing money hand over fist not capitalizing on that. And second of all, one of you needs to go over to Grace and ask her to come home with you. Tell her we’re all going back to your place and having a ‘private party for four.’ ”

  Both sets of eyebrows shot up. “Miss Bancroft.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Trust me. It will be fun to watch Grace react to that.”

  Kyle shook his head. “You must really want her off your case. I’ll do it.” He pushed back from the table and—very sexily I might add—sauntered over to a wide-eyed Grace.

  “Let’s give her something to stare at,” Kevin murmured, standing up and grabbing me by the elbow, pulling me into his arms. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me, but stopped inches from my lips and whispered. “This isn’t pushing our professional relationship too far is it?”

  “Only a little.”

  “If I’m making you uncomfortable, just let me know.”

  In reality, I was a little uncomfortable. Not because a client of my company was holding me in a rather intimate embrace, but because, I realized, I hadn’t been held by a man in far too long. I was attracted to Kevin in the way any red-blooded woman would be attracted to a six-foot three-inch athlete with a dashing smile, square jaw, twinkling eyes, and a suit more expensive than my shoes. He was completely swoon-worthy. “Is it working?” I whispered.

  Kevin pulled back a little and glanced over my shoulder. “It might actually be backfiring. I think Kyle is hitting on your friend.”

  Oh Grace. “He is single, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much so. And a good guy.” He winked.

  I stepped out of his embrace and straightened my dress as I glanced back at my table. Sure enough, Kyle and Grace were leaned in toward each other with stupid grins on their faces. Grace was giving him an eyeful of her cleavage and biting her lip and Kyle was eating it up. “I hope you didn’t have any big plans for the night.”

  “Not really,” he laughed.

  That was when I saw him.

  Greg.

  Sitting across the dining room at a table with three other men, a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his eyes locked on me. The floor fell out from under me and my knees went a little weak.

  “Whoa there.” Kevin slid his arm around my waist to steady me. “I know I’m awesome and all, but are you all right?”

  Nope. Not all right at all. A man I barely knew was making me swoon from across a room with a single glance. I was old enough to know that was a very rare and very dangerous thing. “I’m fine,” I murmured. “I think I’ve had too much wine.”

  Kevin guided me into a chair and moved his water glass to my hand. “Drink.”

  Greg watched all of this, his eyes growing darker with each moment that passed. He never looked away and, for the life of me, I couldn’t look away either. My heart was racing and the heat surging between my legs was incredibly uncomfortable. I throbbed painfully with a need that only the man across the room would satisfy.

  Why him, I had no earthly idea. The whole thing seemed ludicrous to me. I wasn’t a teenager anymore. I wasn’t supposed to have a superficial, lust-fueled attraction to a man based solely on physical need.

  Or maybe I was…

  I was thirty. Wasn’t that when women were supposed to come into their sexual prime? Or was that an old wives tale that wasn’t true. God, I hoped it was true, because I really needed an explanation for the insanity that was taking place inside my body.

  “Can I ask you a weird question?”

  Kevin cocked his head to the side. “Sure…”

  “When you were twenty, what did it feel like when you looked at a beautiful woman?”

  “Ummm…”

  I finally pulled my eyes away from Greg and gave my full attention to Kevin. “Just generally. I’ve heard it makes you guys crazy and the only brain you have that works is the one between your legs.”

  That made him laugh. “Yeah, that’s basically it. It’s kinda crazy, but yeah, it’s like your whole body just comes to life and there is a heat-seeking missile stuck in your pants that needs to get out before you explode.”

  Yep. That was it. I had a heat-seeking missile between my legs and I was worried if I looked back at Greg again, I might just explode.

  “Can I ask why you want to know that?”

  I glanced around the room and found a remarkably young man with a slightly older woman, clearly on a date. “Just wondering about them.” I lied.

  Kevin followed my eye line to the couple and chuckled. “Yeah, they’ll be having monkey sex later.”

  “So will Grace and Kyle.”

  We both made faces of mild disgust and shuddered.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I didn’t know myself. Whoever the hell this fucker was who’d taken over my body, I didn’t know him. From the moment I saw her out of the corner of my eye, I knew it was her. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. She sucked me in and I hadn’t been able to look away.

  I was having a quick dinner with some guys from work, a totally normal thing for us to do. Saison Grille was sort of on the way home for all of us. It had great food and a fantastic bar. We probably stopped in at least one Friday a month, sometimes two.

  And I had never—not once—set eyes on Marie.

  What the hell was she doing here?

  Every bit as sexy and confident as the night before, but different. Instead of a slinky black cocktail dress, she was wearing a looser, gauzier light blue dress and matching heels. Her hair was long and loose, and the combination of everything was hot as hell.

  And then she walked right up to Kevin-fucking-Rogers, and I thought I was going to break the fork in my hand.

  That was, until I saw them flirting.

  Then I wanted to break the fucking table.

  Kevin’s head was going on the list next.

  The guys were talking, but I didn’t hear anything. I was trying—for some stupid reason—to hear Marie and Kevin, even though there was no chance of hearing anything from here. I didn’t think they were a couple—I was almost positive she’d walked over from another table. I’d glanced at Kevin when we walked in, and as best as I could remember, he was sitting with a guy
who looked a lot like him. Probably his brother.

  So the good news was that Marie wasn’t with the semi-famous backup quarterback. The bad news was that she was flirting with a guy I didn’t stand a chance next to. A rich, handsome, former Gator quarterback riding the pine in the NFL was still a thousand times better than a foul-mouthed asshole, no matter how much money I stocked up in my bank account.

  Wasn’t going to stop me from trying two nights in a row.

  “Greg, you okay man?”

  I glanced at Chuck, one of my managers at work, and someone I’d known for a good ten years. “Yeah, just recognize someone I know. Trying to figure out the right time to interrupt dinner.”

  Chuck knew me well enough to know what that meant and let it drop.

  I turned my attention back to Marie just as Kevin stood and put his arms around her.

  Many people, myself included, tended to describe me as an angry man. And yet, the anger that coursed through me right then was more than anything I’d ever felt before in my life. I wanted to do a lot of very violent things at that moment, including testing the strength of the throwing hand of a certain quarterback.

  Instead, I sent a look across the room that would have turned the head of the devil himself. I willed Marie to look across the room. And fuck it all, she did. Her eyes widened the moment they landed on mine, and then she lost her balance, like I’d physically knocked her on her ass with my eyes.

  Fuck. Yeah.

  And that’s when I knew I had her. She was just as turned on as I was. I knew it. I could see it. All I had to do was play my cards right.

  So I waited patiently. Finished my dinner, talked to my friends, all while watching Marie move back to her table just out of my sight. I could see the top of her head and that was it. But I wasn’t too worried because Kevin stayed at his table, and the other guy joined him again.

  I finally got my chance about ten minutes later. Kevin, the other guy, and Marie’s friend all left together, while Marie disappeared into the bathroom. Either she had someone else meeting her here at the restaurant, or she’d purposely stayed behind to see me again.

  I was willing to bet on the second option.

  “Thanks for dinner, gentlemen, but I have some things to attend to.” We said our goodbyes and Chuck gave me a look, telling me to be careful. I gave him a shrug and moved toward the bar. I found two empty seats near the end and made sure to keep my attention on the bartender, not on the hallway. I wanted to be available, not creepy. She knew I was here.

  She didn’t keep me waiting long.

  “Did you order me a drink?” Marie asked as she took the empty stool beside me. She had this sexy, confident yet shy, look to her blue eyes. They were just as crazy blue as I remembered.

  “Of course I did.” The bartender placed two whiskeys in front of us. I pushed one toward her. “I ordered you one of my favorites.”

  We clinked our glasses together and took a sip. “What is this? It’s…sweet?”

  “Templeton Rye. My new favorite after-dinner whiskey.”

  “Not bad.” She took another sip.

  Whiskey on the rocks with a little lime—and she was enjoying it. I liked this woman a lot. “What brings you out again tonight?”

  She set her glass down and moved it in circles over the lacquered wood. “Dinner with a friend. You?”

  “Dinner with friends.”

  She nodded, but still didn’t look up. “How did you know I’d come over?”

  “I didn’t. But I went all-in.”

  The corner of her lip turned up in a half smile and she finally raised her eyes to meet mine again. “I should have known you were a poker player. Let me guess, you like fine cigars as well?”

  “Am I really that predictable?”

  “You’re definitely a type,” she said huskily, and I hoped to God that meant she liked that type.

  “I tend to break most molds.”

  And then she laughed, not quite the same as the one that grabbed me last night, but just as mesmerizing. “Well, we’re alike in that regard.”

  “Are you reconsidering my offer from last night?”

  There was a long, painful silence for several seconds, and I was pretty sure Marie was holding her breath the entire time. It was really hard for me to not notice the rise and fall of her chest. I seemed to be tuned in to it. Every breath, every movement of her hands—it was like my skin was screaming for her fingers to touch it. I wasn’t the most observant guy in the world, and yet, I noticed everything about her.

  “Are you still offering?” she finally murmured.

  Hell yeah I’m still offering. I wanted her with every fiber of my being. And not just in a hot and bothered need for release. I was good looking enough, rich enough, and nice enough that I could get laid any time I wanted. It was easy to pick out the willing. I wasn’t looking for a quick fuck with this woman.

  I wanted her. I needed to seduce her, to conquer her. I wanted to satisfy her. She was a challenge and a mystery that my dick and my ego both wanted equally.

  I swallowed and touched her hand. The moment I made contact I needed more. My fingers automatically wrapped around hers. “The offer most definitely stands.”

  She let out a slow breath between her pursed lips, then picked up the whiskey and knocked half of it back like a fucking goddess. “One time?”

  “Sure. One time.” One time, ten times, a hundred times…however many times it took to satisfy her.

  “Your place?”

  I nodded slowly. No last name, no address…I glanced at her ring finger just to make sure I wasn’t about to get myself into someone’s marriage problems, but her finger looked completely bare. No tan line, no indent, no nothing. It didn’t look like she normally wore a ring on that finger at all. Not that it was definitive proof of being single, but it was a good start. “Sure, we can go to my place. But first, I have a couple of questions.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “All right. Go ahead.”

  “You are single, correct? I don’t want anything to do with cheating.” I had some morals.

  Her eyes softened. “No, I’m very, very single.” She said it like being attached to someone was a bad thing.

  “I’m assuming, based on your request for one night and withholding your last name, that you’d prefer to keep things quick and anonymous?”

  She nodded once and I saw that little glimmer of doubt flicker in her eyes again.

  “Honestly? This is my weekend off from my life. I never, ever do anything like this, and I’ll probably never do it again, but for some bizarre reason, I am attracted to you. I don’t believe in signs or fate, but I do believe in opportunity. I need to relax and have a little fun. You have presented me with an offer that I am very interested in pursuing.”

  “Workaholic?”

  “Something like that,” she said softly.

  “I believe in opportunity as well. I think we are both consenting adults and it is a nice Friday night to get to know each other.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Do you need a ride or are you going to follow me?”

  “I need a ride,” she said with a smile. And that was when I learned I’d need to watch myself if I ever played cards with Marie. If I wasn’t careful, this woman would take everything I had.

  “Rather confident, aren’t you?”

  She shrugged and hopped off the stool. “It gets me places.”

  And right then, it was about to get her underneath me.

  Chapter Eight

  A bright red Porsche? Oh dear Lord, I was going home with a guy who drove a bright red Porsche. I was definitely putting this in my “mistakes I never want to revisit” file. As much as I was oddly attracted to this guy, and strangely enjoyed talking to him, I did not do red Porsches.

  I was a real American muscle kind of girl when it came to cars. Not that I cared much about cars—mostly I considered them a form of transportation to get me to and from work—but if I was going to get in a bright red car with an engin
e that could give a race car a run for its money, I wanted the engine to vibrate the seat of the car and look like it could get hit by a truck and keep on going.

  This car…was neither of those things. The engine purred. It was great and powerful, but hardly exciting. And the inside was tiny. Barely enough room for the two of us.

  Which was actually kind of nice, if I was being honest.

  Greg had this confidence about him. Sure he was rough and had a blunt way of talking, but he was incredibly sure of himself and very honest. I didn’t doubt for a second that every word out of his mouth was genuine. I’m sure for some people it was rude and uncalled for, but for me, it was nice. I liked knowing there were no games with this man. He said what he meant and he meant what he said, even when it hurt.

  Which was why I decided to meet him at the bar. In my head I was recounting all the logical reasons that a one-night stand was a dangerous and terrible idea. But I also knew when to trust my gut. Greg might be a terrible idea, but he was harmless. I was so attracted to him it hurt. Literally, I was in pain between my legs from the throbbing need to have a go at this man. I didn’t know anything about him other than his name and what kind of whiskey he drank, but my body didn’t give a shit. It wanted Greg Hamilton’s cock, and everything else was pure details.

  “You sent the quarterback home?”

  I studied his hand on the steering wheel. A strange scar ran down the side and around his wrist. “No, we’re just friends. I was using him to freak out my friend, but she didn’t fall for it.”

  Greg laughed low and deep in his chest. The vibration was sultry and seductive.

  I adjusted my legs. Again.

  “I saw his brother leave with your friend.” He glanced my way. “Sister?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. We’re as close as sisters, but I’m an only child.”

  He made a noise that sounded like an acknowledgment. I wanted to ask if Greg had siblings, but then I realized there was no point to it. “Where do you live?”

  “Harbor Island. We’ll be there in a moment.” A few minutes later he pulled onto a road lined with luxury condos. I knew a couple of people who lived near here. It was an excellent spot for those who liked to stay mobile. Close to the airport and downtown, beautiful homes with minimal upkeep, and high resale value. At the very least I knew Greg had some money.