Bad Business

by Nicole Edwards

  However…

  “Would you like to dance?” I offer.

  She shakes her head. “Can’t.”

  “Can’t?”

  “Nope. Bum leg.”

  “Really?”

  “No. But I don’t want to dance with you.”

  I like her jabs because they aren’t cold and calculated. I can tell she’s teasing, but at the same time she’s not.

  “Got it. Well, good. Because I wasn’t offering to dance with you. But, I would’ve been willing to find some ugly schmuck down there who’d be willing to take you off my hands.”

  She laughs and the sound goes right to my dick.

  “Really?” Her light green eyes swing over to the dance floor. “Who would you have picked for me?”

  I consider this a moment, scanning the crowd, trying to find the most unsuitable match for her.

  “That guy,” I say, pointing to a short blond guy who’s obviously trying a little too hard with his dance moves. Thanks to his swinging arms, he’s managed to push a majority of the dancers to one side of the floor.

  “That guy?” She purses her lips, obviously pretending to consider my choice for her. “He’s not too bad. I can see why you’d think he’s a step up from you.”

  I laugh, the sound echoing through the space. It’s probably the first time I’ve really laughed in a long time. Although I don’t have many complaints, I’ll admit that I spend a lot of time with people who are hell-bent on impressing me to the point that I can’t find any amusement in it.

  Sure, I’m content. I’ve got money and fame, family and a few good friends, plus a nice car and a huge house. But, I still go home alone every night, choosing to forego empty relationships in exchange for my sanity

  I nod toward the dance floor.

  “So, who would you match me up with?”

  She spends an unusual amount of time considering the options before finally, she inconspicuously points to a girl sitting at a table in the corner by herself.

  “That girl,” she explains. “She looks a little desperate. You probably wouldn’t be her first choice, but you’d be a decent consolation prize.”

  I push back my chair, and her eyes swing to me.

  “Come on,” I insist, reaching for her hand.

  She reaches out and I don’t even think she realizes what she’s doing. She proves that when she pulls her hand back.

  “Wait. What’re you doin’?”

  “We’re gonna go dance,” I tell her. “With our new partners.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I am. And if I can get that girl to dance with me before you can get that guy to dance with you, you’ll give me your name and your phone number.”

  “And if I get him to dance with me first?”

  “Then I’ll give you my name and number.”

  “Well, that’s a shitty prize,” she says, smirking.

  Chuckling, I engulf her hand in mine and lead her from the VIP section down to the dance floor. I turn to her, moving in extra close for the simple fact that I want to get closer to her. She smells ridiculously good. Something light, yet sexy.

  Her head tilts back and she’s staring up at me, her eyes wide. Suddenly, I don’t have any desire to ask some other chick to dance, but I’m going to hold up my end of the bargain.

  “Good luck,” I say, my voice a little rougher than I expected.

  “And good luck to you.”

  With that, she releases my hand and marches right over to the guy still shaking his groove thang on the dance floor. Before I get three feet from the spot I was in, the woman is dancing with that fool.

  I can’t help but watch the way she moves. She looks natural, not at all like she’s not enjoying herself. I find I like that, too. I have no idea who this woman is, but she’s one of the first people I’ve met recently who seems genuine, not putting on a front to impress me.

  The question is, can I leave this bar with the possible chance of ever seeing her again? If she has a say in the matter, I’d have to assume the answer is no.

  However, there’s a little time left, and just like in football, I don’t intend to go down without a fight.

  Savannah

  I can’t deny that I haven’t been completely turned off by Jason Stone.

  In fact, I might’ve even imagined using that damn condom with the guy.

  Only briefly.

  Thought about it briefly, that is. Not the actually deed in which we would use it. There would be nothing brief about that.

  Damn it.

  That is not where I intended to go with my train of thought.

  I surreptitiously let my gaze slide over to him. I can see him watching me. I like that he is, although I shouldn’t.

  He’s not at all what I expected. Sure, he’s cocky and all, but I like the lighter side, the teasing side. The fact that he doesn’t seem to take himself seriously makes me like him.

  More than I probably should, considering.

  Plus, he’s made me laugh, made me forget that I didn’t want to be here in the first place.

  Thankfully, I managed to get my…what do I even call this guy? A target? Whatever. Thankfully, I got him to dance with me to a fast song, so he doesn’t get a chance to get all handsy. When the song ends, I smile sweetly and then nod toward Stone.

  “Thanks for the dance,” I tell him. “But my brother’s back. I should go check on him. He’s having some girl problems tonight. Well, technically, I think he’s got a rash and no one seems to want to dance with him. I’ve suggested he go to the doctor, but you know how it is.” I lower my voice. “I think he’s embarrassed.”

  The guy is staring at me and I have to wonder if he understood a word I said. That or he knows who Jason Stone is and tomorrow’s sports headlines are going to announce that Jason Stone has herpes or some shit like that.

  Oops.

  Without waiting for him to say anything, I turn and walk away, heading right over to Stone.

  “Your turn,” I tell him.

  “But you clearly won,” he says, leaning casually against the bar.

  “I did, but that doesn’t mean you can wimp out. A bet’s a bet. Get your ass on over there and get that girl to dance with you.”

  “Will you be here when I get back?”

  If he hadn’t asked me that, I probably would’ve bolted. However, I can’t see leaving him high and dry, so I simply nod, then lean against the bar. “I’ll wait. But if you’re really interested in her, just give me some sort of signal”—I give him a thumbs-up as an example—“and I’ll know you’re goin’ home with her.”

  He laughs. “Not a chance.”

  “You never know,” I say in a singsong voice, grabbing his biceps and tugging him away from the bar. Once he’s completely vertical, I push on his back to send him in the girl’s direction.

  I’m fascinated as he walks over to the girl’s table. Not only by the fact that he’s following through, but also because the guy has a phenomenal ass.

  Lord have mercy. I’m a lost cause.

  Jason leans down and whispers something to—

  “What the holy heck are you doin’?”

  I spin around to find Allison standing beside me. She’s sweating, which is a clear indicator that she’s been dancing.

  “I’ve got a bet with Stone.”

  “Yeah?” She looks hopeful. “Who can open that condom faster without using their teeth?”

  I flinch back. “No!” The woman’s a basket case. “He’s got to dance with that girl.”

  I turn back to where he was, and quickly notice that he’s out on the dance floor. The girl is smiling up at him as they move leisurely to a slow song. I can’t help but laugh. His eyes meet mine over the girl�
�s head, and he pins me with a glare, followed by a cocky smirk.

  “So? What’s he like?” Allison asks, taking a glass of water from the bartender.

  “He’s…not that bad,” I admit.

  “Then why in the world did you pawn him off on that girl?”

  I shrug. Honestly, I can’t answer that because I don’t know. I would’ve been content to sit at the table and trade insults with him for the rest of the night. But, I’m never one to back down from a challenge and I had to prove that to him.

  “Does he know who you are?”

  I spin around and face Allison, shaking my head. “No. And I don’t plan to tell him, so keep your mouth shut.”

  “Mum’s the word.” Allison grins. “Don’t look now, but he’s comin’ back,” she says in a whisper that can probably be heard throughout the club.

  It registers that the song ended and another slow song started. Since Allison has decided to abandon me again, I have no choice but to turn around. I do so slowly.

  “Your turn,” Stone says, his voice raspy and deep.

  “My turn for—” I don’t get to finish the sentence because he’s pulling me out on the dance floor, his big arms instantly coming around me.

  Instinct and good manners have me moving in close to him, placing my palms on his chest. I try my best not to shift my hands, not wanting to feel how hard his pecs are.

  “So?” I ask, peering up at him. “Was it love at first sight? Are you plannin’ to have lots and lots of—”

  My words die off when his mouth descends on mine. His lips are firm, warm, and although I know I should pull away, I find myself leaning in, kissing him back. When his tongue coaxes my lips apart, I don’t put up a fight, giving in despite knowing this is a huge mistake.

  There’s no groping or fumbling. We simply stop moving as our lips meld together, our tongues picking up the rhythm our bodies left behind. I’m lost to it for a few seconds, but I’m not the one who pulls back first.

  When I get my bearings, I open my eyes and look up at Stone. He’s staring back at me, the heated glimmer and the dimly lit area making his dark eyes even darker.

  “Thanks for the dance,” he says softly.

  Surprisingly, he backs up, releasing me, but keeping one hand on my back as though to ensure I don’t fall over. It’s a real possibility because I have absolutely no clue what to do or say or even think.

  Never in my life have I been kissed like that.

  And to make matters worse, there’s absolutely nothing I can do about seeing where this might lead because…

  Well, because he’s him and I’m me and mixing things up with Jason Stone is bad business.

  Very, very bad.

  I inwardly groan.

  For the first time in my life, I want to be bad.

  But, just like I normally do, I ignore my wants and focus on what’s necessary.

  And that’s getting out of this club before I do something really, really stupid.

  Chapter 4

  Stone

  I can tell she’s going to leave and that’s the last damn thing I want.

  “Stay,” I urge, moving in closer before she can make a mad dash for the door.

  I thought one kiss would be enough to sate me, but it wasn’t. Not by a long shot. And I know I shouldn’t make a move on her, certainly not here, but I can’t help myself.

  Pulling her in again, I fuse my mouth to hers and she’s once again pliant in my arms. I can tell she wants me, but she doesn’t want to want me. That little voice of reason is urging me to be a gentleman, to step away and let her go, but I can’t. The thought of never seeing her again, not having the chance to feel her lips on mine, her body beneath me…

  “I can’t,” she whispers, her eyes locked with mine. I can tell she’s trying to win the battle against herself.

  “Come home with me,” I insist.

  She shakes her head.

  “Then, at the very least, let’s go back upstairs.”

  That seems to win her over, but I’m not sure how long it’ll last, so I turn her toward the stairs, placing my hand at the small of her back. We pass the bouncer guarding the area, and he gives me a slight nod of acknowledgment.

  The table she was originally sitting at has been taken, but there is an open booth in the back far corner. It feels like fate has intervened, so I urge her in that direction. I can sense she’s hesitant to sit, but I don’t think it has to do with her not wanting to be with me.

  I think it has more to do with her wanting it and knowing she shouldn’t.

  When the waitress passes by, I motion her over and order another glass of wine for her and water for myself.

  “So, no plans for marriage and babies with that woman, huh?” she quips, but I can sense her nervousness.

  “Not tonight, no.”

  She smiles and some of the tension abates.

  Not the sexual tension though. That’s a bonfire threatening to get out of control and there’s nothing either of us can do about it.

  I have the decency to wait until the waitress delivers our drinks before I move in closer. I can’t help myself. I have to taste her again.

  “We’re in public,” she announces unnecessarily.

  “I can fix that.” I curl my hand around her cheek and brush that plump bottom lip with my thumb. “Just agree to go—”

  Before I can suggest she go home with me again, she leans in and our mouths meet. Although I had kept things relatively civil on the dance floor, I don’t hold back now. I can’t. This woman has sparked something that has been buried for a long damn time. I can’t seem to resist her.

  While our tongues dance, I do my best to keep my hands to myself. Then suddenly, to my surprise, she has gripped my wrist and she’s tugging my arm closer. My hand is instantly on her breast. I squeeze firmly because I can tell what she wants. This woman is dynamite and her fuse has been lit. That condom in her purse is likely going to be put to good use.

  The gentleman in me is clearing his throat, trying to grab the reins to no avail. I can’t stop touching her.

  “Fuck,” I grumble against her mouth, moving in closer, trying to shield her from any potential voyeurs with my body. “Come home with me.”

  She shakes her head, but her hands are wandering beneath the table. It’s obvious this woman is used to taking control. As much as I want to let her, I can’t. That’s not who I am. Control is my middle name.

  When her hand wanders up my thigh, I wrap my hand around her neck and pull her head in close to mine, my mouth brushing her ear.

  “You’re two seconds away from having an orgasm in this club,” I warn her. “Whether it’s from my fingers, my mouth, or my cock. Keep this up and I won’t be able to stop.”

  She shudders, but she doesn’t push me away.

  Damn her.

  “Pretty girl, I’m not a saint,” I groan as her hand gets bolder, gliding over the hard ridge of my erection. “And we’re in a club. Someone’s gonna notice…”

  She pulls back and her eyes are wide. That was obviously the ice water that I’d been ill-prepared to douse on this incredibly hot moment. She went from smoldering to ashes in three seconds flat.

  Cupping her face again, I lock my eyes with hers. “Come home with me. Let me spend the night identifying every possible way to make you come.”

  The flush that steals over her face gives me hope. She isn’t saying no.

  Then again, she isn’t saying yes. I fucking want her to say yes. It’s possible I will never see this woman again and there is no way I want to spend the rest of my days not knowing how it feels to have her beneath me.

  “Okay,” she says on a breathless whisper.

  “Yeah?” I don’t mean to sound so unsure, but she surprised
me.

  “Yes,” she confirms and I can see her resolve. She’s committed to going home with me tonight.

  There is no way I am letting her change her mind. I quickly slide out of the booth, making sure my shirt covers the evidence of my arousal before helping her to her feet.

  I’m quite adept at drawing things out while I come up with the best route to get from point A to point B. Right now, point B (which happens to be my home address) is the only thing that matters. How I get there is simply noise.

  Savannah

  I know I’m going to regret this in the morning, but right now, I don’t care.

  I can’t even blame it on the wine because I haven’t had nearly enough.

  Whether it was Allison’s reference to me being a nun, or perhaps the condom she gave me…Something is spurring me to leave logic and rationality behind and take what this man is offering.

  I want to be bad. It might be my only chance.

  Not the brightest idea I’ve had recently, but hey, I’m not perfect.

  While Jason leads me out of the club, I tap out a text to Allison, letting her know where I’m going and who I’m with. She doesn’t need to worry. It’s not like this guy is a stranger. He may have no idea who I am, but I’m more than aware of who he is.

  She immediately responds with: Okay, hussy. Have fun and use that condom. Call me first thing in the morning so I know you’re okay.

  “Do you live close?” I ask, trying to make conversation while he drives.

  It’s not entirely awkward though. With his fingers curled around mine, I feel quite content to let the silence linger.

  The way he looks at me should’ve been telling, but I can’t seem to determine his expression. It’s a mixture of confusion and something that looks a lot like relief.

  “Not too far, no,” he says, his fingers squeezing mine gently.

  He’s proven correct when we pull up to his house ten minutes later. I have to say, I’m surprised that Jason Stone takes women back to his house. I thought for sure he would suggest a hotel. No way was I going to offer to take him back to my place. I have pictures of my family all over and yes, perhaps that makes me deceitful, but I do not intend to let Jason know who I am.