He swallows, then cracks his knuckles one by one. His eyes fixate on each finger as he goes. His hands are rough and soft at the same time. The backs are smooth, with a speckling of hair. Perfectly shaped fingers—not too skinny or too fat. His palms are rough and calloused, but not so much that it would be considered a detriment. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I can tell he’s closed himself off completely.
“It’s a stupid idea. This is a first date. You just met me. I’m insane. My God, I’m insane. My mother would be mortified if I told her. Forget I said any of this. I’ll pick up the check for dinner, and we can be on our way. My friends have made me insane.”
“Here’s the thing. I’ve never been in a relationship. I wouldn’t know how to pretend properly. I will admit that I’m intrigued by the idea because of that fact and nothing else.”
Well, that stings a little.
“What would it entail exactly? And how long until I get you naked?”
My face must register shock, because he continues. “I’m always up for a challenge. Don’t read into it. You are hot. You proposed a situation I’ve never been propositioned with before. If we’re going to do this, we have to do it right. Hand me your cell phone.”
Hesitantly, without taking my eyes off his, I find my phone by touch and lay it on the table in front of us. He opens it with a swipe to pull the camera up. He smiles when he reads the text messages bubbling up my screen. He scoots next to me, so close that I smell the sweet musk of his cologne, and he raises the phone. “Smile, Teala. It’s our first selfie!”
A smirk is all I can force before the flash blinds us. He hands the phone back to me.
“Send that to your friends. Challenge accepted.”
I don’t want to send the picture. I want to keep him to myself for a little longer. A man like Macs can’t be kept by anyone. Not even the most attractive woman in the world and definitely not a messed up, commitment-phobe like myself. I hit send and anticipate the onslaught of texts back. I glance over at Macs. His own cell phone is in his hand and he’s swiping left faster than I thought was possible.
Chapter Six
Macs
Call it a moment of weakness. A moment of curiosity so strong I was compelled to give in to the beautiful woman sitting next to me. Call it sexual chemistry so strong I know it will be worth the wait. We’re hashing out the details, and for the first time since I met Teala, she seems happy, or excited at the very least.
“Four dates and then sex?” I confirm. I keep my cell phone in hand as we speak. I know it’s rude, but after the tension tonight, I’ll need a release stronger than my right hand can provide.
She nods, not even looking in my direction. “Maybe three. I have to confirm with them. They had some weird timetable I’m not familiar with.”
I can’t say I’m familiar with it either. My friends are either similar to me in promiscuity, or married. When Teala remains quiet, I look up from my phone.
Her gaze is directed at my cell. “And what about seeing other people?” she asks.
Ah. This may be a point of contention.
“Well, you can’t sleep with anyone until the third date, so I don’t think that’s a factor, right?” I avoid the point completely.
“And what about you? We are pretending, I guess.” Her reply is a touch sarcastic. “Although if you wanted to get the full experience, maybe you should…refrain, too.”
She’s not shy and it’s a turn on added in her favor. Teala’s eyes are curious and her body language suggests she’s already comfortable around me. I wonder if she’s this comfortable with any attractive man. I’m probably nothing special in her eyes. She laughs as she sees the text messages pop up on her screen.
“Jasmine said she would break the bet if she were me.”
Jasmine. Who is Jasmine and where can I find her? “Jasmine has a good point.”
She ignores me. “First kiss is second date.”
“Heavy petting?” I ask.
Teala sighs. “Let me ask,” she groans. She taps out a text and her friend responds almost immediately. “No and yes. Varied responses. All of that is reserved for the date in which sex takes place. Ludicrous.” She shakes her head, her eyes narrowed at her phone.
“You like a challenge as much as I do,” I remark. It’s the reason I wanted to be a Navy SEAL. So few can actually make it. It’s hard and I love to do hard things.
She hangs her head and brings one hand up to cover her face. “You’ll have to meet my mom and do exactly as I say. This is too much to ask from you. It’s too much to ask from a friend, let alone a stranger.”
“Just because I want to charm your panties off and make you forget about your friends and mom and, fuck, even your own name, doesn’t mean I can’t play nice and meet your mom. Parents tend to like me. Maybe you should meet my parents as well. That might get them off my back, too. There’s a possibility this could work for both of us equally. My reputation will garner a black mark, though. Which is why I may need to keep up my, ah, swiping?” I flash the screen her way so she can see the app I have opened and exactly what I’m doing.
She puts the tip of her thumbnail in between her teeth. “That’s fair. But it can’t interfere with our dates.”
“You have to take me to Vegas on the trip, too,” I interject, her mouth distracting me from any lucid conversation.
Her eyes widen. “Why would you want to come with me? With my friends? That would be a nightmare for you.”
As an explanation, I flash her my screen one more time. “Spearmint Rhino, Teala,” I say. It’s my all-time favorite strip club. I may not even need an app to get what I want once I saunter into that beautiful brick building.
My words don’t faze her. She nods and holds up a small palm to halt the conversation. Her eyebrows bunch in confusion. “If my friends find out this was all a lie, they’ll be furious. Jasmine will disown me. You’ll be careful? The whole point is to convince them.”
“Careful is my middle name. I wrap that shit up every single time. I’ll bring you with me to the strip club. We will have a raucous time. The best time ever.” My joke garners a small giggle and a white, charming smile. I sigh in relief. I didn’t know it was possible to have a woman accept my lifestyle with such ease. One who wants to fuck me, too. Two for one. We both make an effort to finish our dinners. The waitress clears the table and lingers longer than Teala is comfortable with. She’s judging my actions. My every move. She’s learning, an observation I’ve never watched firsthand with another woman before. This experiment in self-control and deceit will be good for my womanizing tactical skills.
Teala stands from the table in one lithe move. “By the way, that’s not what I meant about being careful and you know it. Condoms aren’t careful. They are mandatory. You and I both know that.” She excuses herself to use the restroom.
On the way, she swings by another table with a few men. It’s obvious they’re having a guys’ night out. One of the men, a handsome fellow with an expensive business suit, wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into an awkward side hug.
My phone pings on the table, alerting me of a match. Then it pings again. I don’t look at it to see which woman is responding to my swipe. I study Teala. Her personality is effervescent. She’s a chameleon in any circumstance. She smiles and laughs. She plays the game. The men look at her like she’s dinner, but she’s not giving them any appetizers. Teala handles the attention like a well-seasoned pro. Gliding out of their grasps easily and joking like it’s the most natural thing in the world. From this angle I can appreciate every goddamn curve on her tight body. The slope of her back at the bottom of her spine transitions into a stunning, solid ass. An ass that squats. An ass that I could bounce quarters off of. An ass that gives me wood with clothes on it. I don’t know her well, but even the small amount I’ve learned, has led me to believe she truly is a full, devious package.
I want her body. I want it more now that I see that other men want her body. No one can d
eny the caveman response to others desiring the same thing.
And as a testament to how much our shady deal and date means to her, Teala doesn’t glance my way once as she mingles with other men. This is one of the reasons I don’t date. Even if you don’t want it to be, things become complicated. Do those men think she’s with me? Do they think I’m the type of man who lets my woman get groped by other men? I close my eyes and breathe while I wait for her to return.
Teala doesn’t make any stops on the way back to our table. Her eyes are all mine. So is her smile. It’s equal parts sweetness and mischief. An unfamiliar stirring in my chest alerts me to the fact that I’m wasting my time right now. I’m not getting laid. And my dick is steel hard, lying uncomfortably against my leg. I need to wrap this up quickly so I can move on to a more advantageous situation.
I pretend to be involved in a text message when she sits down.
“I’m probably keeping you. If you want to get going, I understand. The least I can do is cut you early,” she says. The smile in her voice forces me to look at her. She fizzles like fire as I rake my gaze over her neck, lips, and then her huge doe eyes. She bites her lip.
As silently as possible, I groan. “You’re not holding me up. It’s fine.” It’s not, but I can’t control my words when I’m this turned on. I look at my watch. I know what time it is, I just saw it on my phone. I only raise my wrist to show off my designer timepiece, an accessory I’m very proud of. “It’s getting late, though.”
She puffs out an irritated breath. “Especially if I’m not getting laid,” she whispers. “I’ll walk you out?”
That’s right. She lives in walking distance. More importantly she wants to get laid. I place a couple bills in with the check and make a gesture for her to lead the way out.
It’s dark. I can’t see her as well outside. “I could walk you home,” I offer.
She clears her throat. “My friends are there.”
“I feel like we have babysitters.”
“They don’t trust me. And for good reason.”
It must be a bitch to be friends with women. Teala seems to be on a whole different wavelength than her friends. It makes a little more sense why winning this bet means more to her than it should. I’d tell my friends to fuck off, but then again I don’t have anything to prove.
She walks next to me, careful not to brush my arm as she goes.
“This is me,” I say when we reach my car. “I feel like it should be the other way around. Me walking you to your car.” And then fucking you in the back seat doggy style, with your face pressed up against the glass. Then I’d make you clean off the makeup smears. Yes, I fancy that plan quite a lot.
“You do have dating instincts!” Teala quips. “Gentlemanly ones.”
I shake my head, laughing. “I don’t. But that’s okay. It doesn’t make a difference for what we’re doing.” She’s silhouetted by a street light. Even in the dark I can see her face fall as she averts her gaze. “Look at me, Teala.”
She doesn’t. Probably because I told her to. I like that and hate that at the same time. “Look at me now,” I say, lowering my voice. “Look at me now, uh.” I thrust my hips forward and clasp my hands behind my head. “Look at me now.” I flash her a hip-hop smile, minus the grill.
She laughs and looks at me. “Oh, God. You’re one of those people!”
“What kind? The motherfuckin’ awesome kind?” I ask, bringing my arms down to cross over my broad chest. Her gaze skims my muscles. I flex a little harder.
She swallows—an audible noise.
Her smile is electric. “The kind who quotes rap songs in everyday conversation. I have a friend who does that. She drops down to get her twerk on wherever we are, at the mention of dropping something. It’s ridiculous.”
I lift my chin. “Yet, you’re laughing. Maybe you’re right, though. Cool people quote rap songs. It makes life less boring.”
I take a step toward her. I’m in her space. She wants me in it. Nothing has been more obvious. Her lips part, her hands in fists by her sides.
Teala’s shoulders loosen a touch. “Are you okay to drive?” she asks, glancing at my car.
She’s underestimating my alcohol tolerance. It’s fair. Everyone does. I have the ability to drink more than anyone I know and still function on a level most would consider normal.
Bending down, I wrap one hand around the back of her neck and pull her head toward mine. I stop before her skin touches mine. Against her lips I say, “Only if you’re okay going home by yourself.”
I can taste the desire in her breaths as we trade air. She’s putty in my hands, head limp and ready to go anywhere I want it. My dick raises its hand. It wants to be called on.
“Until next time. You really should firm up what’s acceptable on the second date,” I say, backing off a little.
Teala slams her eyes shut. The motion wrinkles her brows.
“Why did it have to be you? Why are you my type? Why couldn’t I have showed up tonight and found a nice, normal guy? One who actually wanted to date and not fuck. Someone less good-looking. Someone more…more decent.”
I’ve never looked at myself as a bad person, but if you break it down in the terms she did, I’m the definition of a bad guy. “Every guy wants to fuck. Don’t delude yourself,” I reply. Slowly, brushing the side of her neck as I go, I release her, giving her head freedom.
She steps away. “You’re right. I guess. I assumed the same thing, but I was told differently,” she replies.
Teala brushes hair off her cheek. Her hair is beautiful, long, and shiny. She takes care of it. I’ll be able to wrap it around my hand a couple times. My phone pings from my pocket. The noise draws her gaze to my crotch. When she realizes what she’s looking at, she takes another step back.
“This is going to be hard.”
“It’s not the only thing that’s hard,” I reply, grinning. “Joking aside, it’s not that difficult. We’re both consenting adults.” Since my first submersion into the SEAL world during Hell Week, the rest of my life has seemed easy. Surely she’s dealt with more difficult obstacles than refraining from sex.
She sighs. “I should go. You have my number. We can make plans for another date. That is, if you’re absolutely sure you want to jump into this charade with me.”
If the end goal is me getting into her pants, I can do that. I’ll look at this the way I look at my swiping. It’s just taking longer for her to swipe back. I’ll continue doing me in the meantime. She’s worth it. Moose says so.
“Tomorrow? I’ll come up with a date. As an equal contributor, it’s only fair.”
She smiles, bites the corner of her lip, and nods her head. “Until then. Good night.”
With a small wave, Teala walks away, showing me what I’m missing out on—what will be mine very soon. This is a fun game. Something to conquer. I never thought something like this would appeal to me, but it does. So much so that I know I need to make our next date something amazing. Panty melting. Scorching.
I’m so engrossed in my ideas and how I can win this competition I forget all about the girls in my pocket. For a little while, at least.
Chapter Seven
Teala
I taught three hot yoga classes before noon. It’s two in the afternoon and I haven’t heard from Macs. Not that I’m the type of person to wait for a phone call from a man, but for the first time in a while I’m excited to hear from a man. I’m also excited to tell my mother I’m dating someone. To tell my friends he called for a second date.
“It’s fake, Teala,” I tell myself as I glance at my watch for the third time in one minute. I tap on it to see how many calories I’ve burned and sigh.
I’m meeting Jasmine for a workout at our boot camp class across the street. If he hasn’t called by then, I may have to lie. The girl who works my front desk pushes a Greek wrap across the desk.
“Eat. You’ve already burned more calories than you can make up today,” she says. “We might need to hire a
nother teacher so there’s backup when someone gets sick.”
“It’s fine. I have it, it’s no big deal.” I don’t have to pay an instructor today. As inconvenient as it is to be here on my day off, I don’t complain too much. Owning my own business has taught me more about life than I can quantify. Running a good business and making money isn’t an easy task. I’ve managed to create something successful that funds an exceptional life. I’ve helped my mother out a time or two when she hit a rough patch. Nothing makes me happier. “She’ll be back tomorrow. Just one more class and we’re done for the day. You should get certified,” I offer.
A double-threat employee. She can run things and teach classes. A woman can dream. She laughs and brushes off my suggestion with a lame excuse. That’s a millennial for you. I had to fire the last twenty-two-year-old desk girl after she brought her small dog to work. I told her it was unacceptable. Twice. She told me it was a hostile work environment. A yoga studio. Hostile. I laughed while I paid her in cash from my own wallet just to get her out of my sight.
Rolling my eyes, I eat the wrap in four bites, inhaling quickly without tasting the food. She stares at me with huge eyes. “I don’t know how you can do that.”
I shrug. “It’s food.”
“You’re going to teach a class after eating that in thirty seconds? I’m not sure that’s a great idea.”
Smiling, I crumple the wrapper and toss it into the trash can across the room. “I’ll take it easy this go-round.” My watch pings with a text, but it’s just Jasmine confirming our meet-up. “Ugh,” I moan. “Is the room clean? I’ll head in and fold cold towels.”
She nods, so I head into the warm room, my bare feet sticking to the dark hardwood floors. I do a few stretches on my mat in the front. I prefer the low lights in here to those in the real world. Everything is so bright and harsh. I hear the soft waft of the door behind me.
“Teala. How are you?” I recognize his voice right away and shiver despite the warm room.
Hero Hair (The Real SEAL Series Book 2) Page 5