by Zara Cox
He couldn’t help but watch her as she brought her glass to her lips and sipped. Her eyes closed, and her full lips turned upward in a delicate smile and she said something else to the bartender. She was easily the sexiest woman in the room.
He smiled and stood. Checked his watch. He could go talk to her and still get home early enough to put together a plan for the newest rum. Maybe the night wouldn’t be such a bust, after all.
* * *
Lila Campbell really liked the small, underground cellar vibe of the restaurant. She’d gotten word that the Cuban restaurant was one of Miami’s best-kept secrets, and the somewhat hard-to-find restaurant hadn’t disappointed. Her dinner had been delicious, and the follow-up cocktail was divine. She was now working on a dessert of in-house-made vanilla bean ice cream drizzled with a thick spiced rum sauce that was so decadent, she’d have to spend extra time at the gym working it off.
Holding her phone above her, she took a picture of herself bringing a spoonful to her mouth. She checked it—definitely cute—and it was good to post. Some people hated selfies, thought they were shallow, but Lila didn’t care. She thought back to when she was younger. Maybe she would have been one of those women who judged others like that, but she knew it would have been her own insecurities at play. Taking a picture that she felt was good enough to post was hard for her, but it was getting easier. Sure, she still saw the nasty comments some trolls left on her posts, but she just had to shrug and move on.
“I gotta ask you.” The pretty bartender, Amanda, leaned closer. “Are you that girl from Instagram?”
“Which one?” she asked. “There are a few girls on Instagram.”
“Lila, is it?”
“Well, my name is Lila.”
“I knew it.” Amanda nodded at her drink. “That one’s on the house. Yours is one of my favorite accounts.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Come here,” she crooked her finger at her, and when she leaned in, Lila snapped a picture of both of them. “I’ll post that one later. Thanks for everything.”
Arlo’s would get a stellar review on her blog, and she knew that her word would ensure they had month-long waiting lists for at least a year. It had happened before, and she took a moment to revel in the online power she had. The staff was friendly, and the drinks and food were delicious. As she sipped her rum and Coke, she again hummed appreciatively at the flavor of—she checked the label on the bottle behind the bar—Rexford Rum, which was not cheap, but a local favorite, the bartender had told her.
Tilting her head to the side, she thought something about the name was familiar. And then she remembered. She’d managed to secure an invitation to their upcoming party next Saturday when their marketing manager had reached out to her about attending in exchange for a few posts. The buzz was that it would be attended by athletes and celebrities. The address she’d been given was for the rooftop of a swanky beachside hotel, and it promised to be a good time. She was looking forward to the party but being seen there would also boost her own reputation. Which would help her gain more negotiating clout for when she met with the GO! Channel.
She’d been in talks with the network for months, to take her well-known online persona and translate it to television. She could imagine it now, traveling around the world, the steady paycheck that would give her more stability, and let her put down some roots in Los Angeles. She never thought she wanted to settle in one place, but as she got older, she saw the value in having a home to call her own.
As she brought her spoon to her lips again, she froze, feeling someone come up behind her. Lila straightened her spine, turning on her best thousand-yard stare, which she used whenever men approached her when she traveled alone. She was ready for every cheesy pickup line. She’d heard them all. With her cocktail in hand, Lila turned, took a sip, hoping to look cool and indifferent, but instead her eyes roamed up the man’s body to his face, and she gulped down her drink in one mouthful. He put his hand on the back of the empty stool beside her. She watched, transfixed by his long, strong fingers as they flexed on the wooden frame of the back. “Is anybody sitting here?”
She shook her head, unable to speak. It had been a long, long time since a man’s looks—his presence—had left her so completely dumbfounded.
“Good,” he said with a smile.
“Your usual, sir?” the bartender asked him.
“Please,” he answered, without taking his dark brown eyes from her. “And get another one for the lady.”
Usually, the presumption of a man buying her a drink would have driven Lila insane. She hated overbearing men, and normally, she would have asked him to leave, but there was something about the man next to her that intrigued her. Whether it was his extreme confidence, his impeccable looks, or the scent of his cologne, she was rooted in place. And it had been so, so long since she’d been in the company of a gorgeous man. Amanda looked at her in confirmation and she nodded, willing to get to know the stranger.
He took the seat next to her, and in a short time, the bartender put a tumbler with a couple of fingers of dark liquor next to her new drink.
He picked up his glass with long, confident fingers and used it to gesture to her own glass. “What did I just order for you?”
“Cuba Libre.”
He drank from his glass and nodded. “Good drink.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m told it’s Rexford Rum, based here in Miami. I have to say, it’s pretty good.”
“Just pretty good?” He smiled. “I’ve heard it’s the best.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” she teased, sipping from her glass, not taking her eyes from his as he did the same. She felt a spark that sizzled between them and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lila.”
“Lila,” he repeated, letting the last syllable roll off his tongue. She wanted to keep hearing him say her name. “That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks, I’ve had it all my life.” He smiled at her joke, and drank from his glass, but said nothing. “Do you have a name there, hun?”
He seemed to hesitate, but then change his mind. “Reid.”
“What can I do for you, Reid?”
“I was just at my table, but then I saw you sitting here. And I’m curious why a gorgeous woman like yourself is sitting here all by herself,” he told her.
She bristled at his comment. “What’s wrong with me sitting alone? We’re well into the twenty-first century.” Reid opened his mouth to speak, but Lila didn’t give him a chance. “Maybe I just like my own company. Maybe I choose to be here alone. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
He blinked quickly, probably not used to having women speak to him like that. “Do you want me to leave? If you’re enjoying your own company, I don’t want to intrude.”
Lila thought of telling him to leave, thought of leaving herself. Lila didn’t normally like to invite male attention, especially when she was on assignment, because it was hard enough for women traveling alone, without bringing men into the mix. But there was something about Reid—and she couldn’t back away. “No,” she said, putting her fingers on his wrist. “You can stay.”
“Good.”
She wasn’t sure why she’d touched him, but it had proven to be a mistake, as Reid took her hand in his, turned it over, and brought it to his mouth. He placed his lips to the inside of her wrist. His warm, dry lips on her almost caused her to stop breathing. Who was this man—this stranger she’d found in a small South Beach restaurant—lighting a trail of desire from her pulse point all the way to her own South Beach?
It was stupid, risky. This guy was a complete stranger. He could be anyone. But when the tip of his tongue flicked against her skin, she realized that it didn’t matter who he was.
Reid’s lips closed over her skin again and his dark eyes connected with hers. Lila was transfixed by him, as the rest of the small restaurant fell away. Just the two of the
m existed in that moment—and she didn’t even know his last name. Maybe privacy and anonymity were for the better. She had built up her blog and her reputation to where they were, and she knew that one public misstep could ruin her, especially with everything she had coming up. She had to be on her best behavior. Any rumor or scandal could end her. But none of that seemed to matter when Reid looked at her.
But thankfully, her sanity won out. “Wait,” she said, her words more sighed than spoken.
He backed away immediately, releasing her from his touch. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath and gulped down the rest of her drink. “I don’t even know who you are. Who are you? What’s your last name?” He didn’t say anything. “No last name, Reid? Or do you just go by your first—like Sting or Bono?”
“Oh, I have a last name—I’m just not keen on sharing it.”
Lila shook her head, and then laughed at the seriousness of his voice. The fact that the man wouldn’t give her his last name was a real red flag for her. “You sound so fucking dramatic. What, are you in the mob or witness protection, or a serial killer, or something?”
“That did sound dramatic, didn’t it?” he asked with a lopsided smile. She nodded. “I’m just a private person. I promise, I’m not in the mob or witness protection, or a serial killer.”
“You know, if you were any of those things, wouldn’t you insist that you weren’t?”
“That’s a good point. I guess you’ll have to trust me.” He looked around and waved to the bartender. “Amanda, can you come here for a second?”
She stopped wiping down the counter and joined them.
“Amanda, you can vouch for me, right? I’m a good guy?”
The bartender smiled. “He’s a preferred regular customer, close friends with the boss, and a good tipper.”
“Thanks Amanda.”
“No problem, Mr. Rexford,” she said and went back to her task behind the bar.”
Lila and Reid both shared a laugh at his name having been revealed. “So, I guess you have a name, after all.”
“I guess I do.”
“I always consider service staff to be the best judges of character.” She leaned in closer to him. “And I have to say hearing a guy is a good tipper is a major turn-on for me.”
“That’s the first time a woman has ever told me that.”
“You should date more socially conscious women, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” he said with a smile.
Amanda came back and nodded at their now-empty glasses. “Another round?”
Reid looked at her. She wasn’t sure what to say. Another round would keep them talking at the bar. But refusing another drink would free up the rest of their evening, whatever they hoped to do with it. Reid took her hand again. “Tell me, beautiful, do you want another drink?” he asked, his thumb tracing light but red-hot circles over the inside of her wrist. There was no way he could miss her thundering pulse beneath her skin. “What do you want?”
Lila tried to find her voice, but it was nearly impossible. What do I want? “I want you to keep touching me.”
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Lila’s mind raced through the lusty fog he’d created in her brain. She felt a connection with the man sitting next to her, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to go somewhere with a complete stranger—no matter how good of a time she knew they would have together. Never in her life had she had a one-night stand with a strange man. She may have possessed a sense of adventure, but she wasn’t reckless. With as much as she traveled, Lila knew the world could be a dangerous place. As a woman, and a solo traveler, she had to look after herself—another reason she was glad to have the legitimacy of a potential network deal ahead of her. But as the stranger’s deep brown eyes bored into hers, she could barely think straight. The promise that was held in the strange man’s touch, his rich scent and his deep voice, were almost too much to bear. “What do you have in mind?”
Amanda backed away discreetly, giving them some much-needed privacy.
Reid leaned in next to her, pushed her hair away from her ear and got closer so that his lips brushed the outer shell of her ear. She shivered at the contact. “I’m not going to pretend here. You’re gorgeous, and I’m interested,” he whispered. “We have a connection, and I want you underneath me, on top of me, bent over a table. I know we could have fun together, at least for one night. So, yeah, we could put off the inevitable for a couple of hours, get another drink or two, talk, get to know each other, but I don’t see why we should.”
“Especially since we already know enough about each other?” She teased, trying to lighten the mood. Part of her—the reasonable part—wanted to say no to him. Every ounce of self-preservation begged her to refuse him. But instead, she put her hand on his rock-hard thigh.
He put his hand over hers and it was then she saw the way his pants were tented, showing her that he did indeed want her as much as she wanted him.
“I think we know enough about each other,” he told her. “Don’t you?”
She nodded. This was it. She was going to do something she had never done before—a one-night stand with a strange man. “My hotel is near here.”
Reid signaled Amanda, and before she could stop him, he’d taken out his wallet and laid down several bills to pay for her meal and drinks. More than enough to cover the total and still have enough left over for a sizable tip—just as she’d expected. Soon they were out the door, and in the alley where the restaurant entrance was located.
They walked up the street and she inhaled. There was normally something so sweet and sensual about the smell of Miami—the scent of midnight jasmine, the sand, the sea, the smell of the food and coffee. Glamorous people wearing expensive perfume and cologne. Even at night, this close to the beach, she could almost smell the suntan lotion, coconut and shea, and the fruit-flavored cocktails. Citrus. Rum. Reid. It might have all been in her head, but walking next to Reid, his hand at her lower back, his fingertips curling over the skin exposed by the risqué cut of her backless dress, she knew she wasn’t imagining it—there was something else in the air. The night, the city itself, breathed sex. It filled the air and covered them like a blanket.
She looked up at Reid. He hadn’t said a word since leaving the restaurant.
“Where are you staying?” he asked.
When the small white stone boutique hotel came into view, she said a quick prayer to the nookie gods, thanking them for the short walk. “Right here,” she told him.
“Thank God,” Reid murmured in a little prayer of his own. It shocked her when his arm snaked around hers and he whipped her around and pushed her against the outer wall of the building. His head lowered, and before she could catch her breath, his lips crashed onto hers. Reid’s kiss was hard, demanding, and it was exactly what she wanted. Correction: what she needed. Her lips parted and he took full advantage, his tongue was warm, wet and searching, stroking against her own.
Her arms encircled Reid’s neck and she pulled him closer. He moaned and pressed her into the exterior wall of the hotel. One of his thighs found its way between her legs, and he pressed it against her already wet panties. His touch was almost enough to make her fall to the sidewalk, but thankfully, he was the one holding her up.
With a groan, he pulled away from her, his eyes smoldered. “I’d better get you inside, before I fuck you right here.” He took her hand, and all but dragged her through the hotel lobby to the elevator. When the doors closed on them, he pulled her to him. Kissing her again. The man had a devilish mouth. And she had no choice but to submit to his sinful lips. He smoothed his hands down her arms, and found her breasts, squeezing them. She thrust her chest toward him, leaning into his touch, willing Reid’s fingers to go further. His fingertips curled underneath the thin material of the low neckline of her dress. She wanted Reid to never stop touching her
. But the elevator came to a halt, and she barely noticed when the doors slid open in front of them.
“Lead the way.” His whisper was gruff in her ear, and she pulled him down the hall. At her door, her hands trembled so that she could barely use her key card. He chuckled, took the card from her fingers, and slid it easily into the door. It was slightly embarrassing that she was far more aroused than he was. Men rarely affected her in such a way. But there was something about Reid. He made her brain so foggy with need that she couldn’t think straight.
They walked into her room. But instead of stripping the clothes from her body like she wanted Reid to, he took a step back, deliberately putting several feet between them. “Do you want this?”
“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t.”
He took a step forward. Closer, but still out of her reach. “Lila, I want to hear you say the words. That you want this.”
Lila looked over the man in front of her. She didn’t have to look at the large bulge of his cock to see how much he wanted her. His strong body was rigid, tense. His shoulders heaved with heavy, desperate breaths. His whole body demonstrated his desire. But he still stood before her, seeking explicit consent from her, and she smiled, charmed by it.
It was her call. Despite his powerful presence, and the effect he had on her, she was in complete control. Lila took a step toward him, bringing her breasts flush with his broad chest. She wasn’t wearing a bra—as if the low cut of the back of her dress would have allowed it—and her sensitized nipples sent shocks of electricity throughout her body, as they brushed against his chest. He reached down and grazed her fingertips along the ridge of the bulge. He shuddered underneath her touch, and she grinned.
Lifting up on her toes, she leaned over and brought her lips to the edge of his ear. She snaked her tongue out and traced the outside. “Reid, I want you. And I want this.” She paused. “I want you to fuck me.”