Moon Shot

by Tara Wyatt

  On second thought, she would have another glass of wine. Just one. Because weddings were like one giant bruise, and she needed to keep the edge off in order to make it through.

  Javier jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Aren’t you going up?”

  She shook her head, gratefully accepting her new drink. “Hell, no.”

  He cocked his head, studying her. She felt the weight of his gaze on her like a caress and it made her want to squirm. So, she wrecked it.

  “Stop looking at me like that. It’s annoying.”

  There went that eyebrow again. She’d never been so attracted to a man’s eyebrows before. But he wielded them like weapons, sharp and precise. “Is it?”

  “Yes,” she said, trying to put some snappiness back into her voice because this conversation was somehow getting away from her. She could still feel his eyes on her and she let out an impatient sigh. “You’re still staring.”

  He let out a low laugh and shook his head slowly, then took a sip of his whiskey. “Maybe I’m just imagining you naked.”

  His words landed like a grenade in her stomach, obliterating her, fully and completely. Lust swirled in her belly, tightening her muscles. She forced herself to smile. “Now you’re fucking with me, Javier.”

  He chuckled and took another sip of his drink. “If we’re going to keep flirting, call me Javi.”

  Warmth pooled between her thighs. “You think that’s what this is? Flirting?”

  There went that eyebrow again. God, he was going to kill her with just his eyebrows and his forearms. She’d never survive him. The thought was sobering enough to temper the lust simmering in her blood.

  “Isn’t it?”

  On the other side of the room, Abby tossed her bouquet, sending several women clamoring for it in a flurry of high heels and flying petals. Aerin huffed out a breath as she watched. A cute, curvy woman with bouncy curls and a huge smile came up victorious, hoisting the bouquet in the air over her head like a precious trophy. And then, she made a beeline for the bar, her prize in tow. Her cheeks glowing, she sidled up beside Aerin, setting her battered bouquet on the bar. She grinned and then cocked her head.

  “Hey, I didn’t see you up there,” she said jovially. Aerin had no idea who this woman was, but apparently they were friends now. The thought made her want to stick her tongue out at Javier—Javi—just out of spite. The woman ordered a glass of wine and then turned back to Aerin, her new bestie. “So what’s up? This one a commitmentphobe or something? Didn’t want to freak him out?”

  Javi barked out a laugh and threw back the rest of his drink. “Yeah, uh, we’re not together.”

  “Definitely not,” agreed Aerin.

  “Oh,” said the woman, taking her drink from the bartender. “You look like a couple.”

  “Maybe if hell froze over,” muttered Javi, leaning on the bar.

  Aerin turned to him, feeling the need to defend herself in front of her new friend. “Um, excuse me, but I’m highly datable.”

  “Sure, if you’re into the whole preying mantis vibe you give off.” He shrugged, but she could see the spark in his eyes. “Maybe some guys are.”

  Aerin’s new friend laughed. “Okay, you might not be a couple, but there are some serious sparks happening right now.”

  “No, there aren’t,” Aerin and Javi said in unison.

  “Well, weddings have a way of bringing out the romantic side in people. I just love them. I love seeing everyone so happy, and the flowers and the dress and the cake. It just reminds us all how real love is, don’t you think?”

  Neither Javi or Aerin said anything, but the woman didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in her musings on weddings and love and happiness.

  “And Jake and Abby make such a great couple. I’m Abby’s friend Isabel, by the way. We played softball together. Anyway, you know what they say. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes—”

  “Divorce,” Aerin and Javi said, once again in unison. Their eyes locked, a little half-smile passing between them. It put her off-kilter to feel like he was her ally in this runaway conversation.

  Isabel’s eyebrows shot up and she pursed her lips. “Okay, I see we’ve got the jaded team over here.”

  Aerin shook her head. “There’s a difference between being jaded and having a healthy sense of reality.”

  Javi actually nodded. “Exactly. We’re not jaded. We’re realists.”

  Aerin swiveled to look at him. “Right.” She held his gaze again and something passed between them. Something that felt like a kind of tentative understanding.

  “Well, I will leave you two to your jadedness,” said Isabel, taking her drink and her flowers and disappearing back into the crowd.

  “So, divorced, huh,” he said, leaning on the bar, his back to the room.

  “Yep. Fun club, isn’t it?”

  “So fun. Kids?”

  The question, so innocent, landed like a punch to her stomach. She shook her head a little too briskly for comfort. “No. You?”

  “Two girls.”

  She took a sip of her wine, studying him. Knowing she should put an end to this conversation, that she should slam all her carefully constructed barriers back into place. Or at the very least, say something snarky and sarcastic to remind herself that he wasn’t for her. Because there was something about him that made her want things she knew weren’t hers for the taking. She might’ve put up a fuss about being datable, but she didn’t date. Didn’t put herself in any kind of situation where she might get hurt again. Where she might catch feelings and end up burned. Again.

  He inched closer until she could feel the heat of his arm on hers. “I’m sorry about what I said in the elevator,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

  Her heart beat fast and hard and she shook her head, clinging to the walls she’d put up. She felt itchy and restless in the face of his sincerity. “Don’t. Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” His deep brown gaze searched her, confusion pulling at his handsome features.

  “Don’t be nice to me. I can’t…” She tossed back the rest of her wine, hoping it’d chase away the unsettled feeling cresting over her.

  “Fine. Have it your way. You always do.” He held up his hands in a placating gesture, causing the muscles in his forearms to bunch and flex. The stir it caused low in her belly meant it really was time to go.

  She turned to go, her ankle rolling thanks to her heels and sending her crashing into him. His arms immediately shot out, grabbing her by the elbows to steady her. Warmth radiated outward from where he touched her, and he let his hands linger.

  “Easy there. Looks like someone can’t handle her liquor.” His fingers flexed into her, and a rippling current of electricity passed between them, leaving Aerin reeling.

  She scoffed. “I can handle my liquor just fine, thank you. These heels are hell to walk in.” At the mention of her heels, his eyes took a slow walk down her legs and then back up again, leaving her feeling singed in the wake of his heated gaze.

  “Oh, you can, can you?” He made a low humming sound that she swore she felt on her skin. “Then prove it. Let’s play a game. Truth or dare. You do the dare, you tell the truth, or you drink.”He smirked at her, a cocky pull of his lips that made her want all kinds of things she shouldn’t.

  Walk away. Now. Before you do something stupid.

  She scowled at him and pulled free of his grip. “What are you, ten? I’m not playing truth or dare with you.”

  “Chicken.”

  Oh, hell no. No one called Aerin Stone a chicken and got away with it. Not even Javi too-sexy-for-his-own-good Flores.

  She sat down on the padded barstool. “Fine. You’re on, Flores.”

  Four

  Javi sat down on the barstool next to Aerin, wondering what in the goddamn hell he was doing. Why had he wanted her to stay? Why had he goaded her into having a drink with him? He didn’t really know. Didn’t fully understand the lust coursing through his veins. Whatever it was, he cl
early didn’t have his head on straight. And yet, he was having too much fun to walk away.

  He’d leave after this drink. After this little game designed to amuse themselves and kill time. After, he’d go back up to his hotel room and try to make sense of the Aerin he knew—the ice queen, the bossy, infuriating agent—and the Aerin he was seeing right now, who had hidden hurts and vulnerabilities that seemed to mirror his own. The Aerin who was making him think things he had no business thinking. Things like how it would feel to have those long, slender legs wrapped around his hips.

  They each ordered a fresh drink, and once the glasses were set down in front of them—another whiskey for him, white wine for her—she turned to face him, an expectant look pulling at her features. It hit him—really hit him—in that moment just how freaking gorgeous Aerin Stone was. Pin straight light blond hair that shimmered and rippled in the banquet hall’s low lighting. Bluish-gray eyes that shone with wit and intelligence. High cheekbones and a wide mouth. Delicate nose and chin. Slender, almost willowy build.

  He leaned a bit closer, taking the opportunity to inhale her scent. She was an intoxicating mix of fresh, clean laundry, lavender, and something sweeter and muskier. Something he had a feeling was uniquely Aerin. “Truth or dare?” he finally asked her when she made a little impatient noise in the back of her throat. She didn’t like being made to wait. For some reason—probably a very, very stupid one—he tucked away that piece of information.

  She hesitated for just the briefest moment before answering. “Truth.”

  He studied her, his eyes lingering on the slender column of her throat, the exposed collarbone. What did he want to know about Aerin Stone?

  “Were you actually thinking about me naked earlier?”

  She snorted out a little laugh, shook her head, and then took a healthy sip of her wine. Javi’s blood heated, rushing through his veins with a buzzing awareness.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” she said, her voice low, a little raspy even.

  “I’m not looking at you any way. I’m just looking.”

  “Uh huh. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth, just for the sake of keeping things even.”

  Her eyes searched him, taking on a calculating glint that probably should’ve made him nervous. “Tell me what you really think of me.”

  Whoa. Shit. Yeah, he probably shouldn’t go there. He’d curled his fingers around his glass when he caught the slight slump of her shoulders, the way she glanced away, her features an undiscernible mask. He left his glass where it was and thought for a minute, carefully weighing his words.

  “I think you’re good at your job.” You drive me insane and I think a part of me likes it. “I think you work really hard.” I think you’re sexy as hell. “You, um…dress well?”

  She pointed at his tumbler. “Drink. That’s a really half-assed answer.”

  He picked up his glass, but before raising it to his lips, he said, “I think there’s pain in your past and that’s why you keep everyone at arm’s length.” He held her gaze as he sipped, but she didn’t react at all. Even now, her careful composure was impermeable, it seemed. Something flashed through him, something hot and dangerous and alluring at the thought of watching her come apart, piece by piece. Watching all of that composure crumble.

  His cock twitched, almost as though raising its head in curiosity. Fuck. This was bad. Really bad, especially because he didn’t want to walk away. He took another sip of his drink, trying to chase all of the unwelcome thoughts away.

  “Truth or dare,” he drawled, the whiskey cutting a warming path down the center of his chest. She pursed her lips as she thought.

  “Dare.”

  He licked his lips, smiling to himself. Then he pointed out toward the dancefloor. “Go twerk.”

  She threw back her head and laughed, and he realized he’d never heard her laugh before. It was a loud, vibrant sound he couldn’t quite reconcile with her usual cool sharpness. She took a sip of her drink, shaking her head. “Yeah, that’s definitely not happening. This white girl butt isn’t exactly built for twerking.”

  “Oh, come on. You have a cute little ass.”

  She ducked her head, her cheeks turning the sweetest shade of pink. Holy. Fucking. Shit. He’d made Aerin Stone blush. She took another sip of her drink, seeming to forget about their game for a minute, and then she turned her gaze to him, her light eyes dark.

  “Truth or dare?”

  “Truth.”

  “Oh, come on, I just picked dare.”

  “Yeah, and you didn’t do it.”

  She glared at him, but it didn’t have any of her usual venom. No, it felt almost…playful. “Fine. When was the last time you had sex?” As soon as she’d asked the question, she touched her lips, almost as though she were shocked at what had just come out of her mouth.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Now why would you want to know something like that?”

  She shrugged, and damn if she wasn’t blushing again. “I…I don’t know. Don’t answer that. You don’t even have to drink. I’ll think of another question.”

  “About a year,” he said causally, shrugging. He’d had a casual relationship with a woman named Lisa, but it had fizzled out pretty quickly. Since then, he’d been stuck in a dry spell, mostly of his own making.

  “Oh,” she said softly, swallowing thickly. Nodding. Blushing. Squirming just the slightest bit in her seat. Jesus Christ. Did she want him? And even worse, did he want her?

  What the hell was happening?

  “Truth or dare?” he asked, dragging his fingers around the rim of his glass. She watched the movement, so he did it again. She licked her lips and then met his eyes.

  “Truth. Since we’re wussing out on dares.”

  “What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done?”

  Her eyes widened and then smoldered. He held his breath as he waited for her answer, but then she took a sip of her drink. “Now why would you want to know something like that?” she asked, echoing his earlier question.

  “Because I’m trying to figure you out. I would’ve pegged you for a whips and chains woman, but now I’m not so sure. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Dirty talk? Or do you like it when someone else takes control?” She shifted in her seat again and he grinned. “Or maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Maybe you like it slow and sweet.”

  She shook her head, her blond hair swirling around her flushed face. “No. Not slow and sweet.”

  “I didn’t think so.” His cock surged against his zipper, hard and throbbing, apparently not in on the fact that this was a game and nothing more.

  Nothing. More.

  He watched her chest rise and fall, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her dress. She took another sip of her drink and then cleared her throat. “Truth or dare?”

  “Dare,” he answered immediately.

  She sucked in a breath, her eyes bright, and he could practically see the ideas dancing behind them. “Kiss me like you don’t hate me.”

  Did he hate her? He was pretty sure he didn’t, but he also knew that now wasn’t the time to unpack that. Lust tightened into a knot in his stomach at the thought of kissing her. Of allowing himself just one little taste.

  He slid off the barstool and closed the distance between them with a slow, easy step. Then he slipped one hand behind her neck, the other grazing over her cheekbone. Slowly, so, so slowly, he lowered his mouth to hers and brushed a gentle kiss over her parted lips. She gasped against his mouth, then made a sweet, sexy purring sound as his tongue traced the edge of her lip. He kept his lips soft as he explored her mouth with slow sweeps of his tongue, drinking in her sweetness. She felt better than he ever could’ve imagined. And for once, he didn’t feel bad about imaging it. He didn’t have room to feel anything else but so damn good.

  All too soon, she broke the kiss, her breath coming in short, sharp pants against his mouth. She slid her hands over his shoulders, pulling him closer.

  “Now kiss me like you hate me.�
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  He knew what she was asking for, a hot thrill charging through him. He tangled the hand at the back of her neck in her hair, giving a little tug before their mouths collided, a fierce melding of lips and tongues and teeth. Lust and need exploded through him, making his cock ache. Weep. She parted her legs, taking him into the cradle of her thighs as they devoured each other. Battling. Giving and taking and demanding more. She sucked his tongue then caressed it with hers. This, right here, was sex in kiss form. He tightened his grip in her hair, wanting more, and nipped at her bottom lip, hard enough to make her moan against his mouth.

  It was the most erotic kiss of his entire life. And it was with Aerin. But right now, he didn’t want to think about what that meant, or changed, or whatever. He just wanted to chase the lust she was stirring to a frenzy inside him.

  She broke the kiss, breathing hard and heavy. “We’re drunk,” she murmured against his lips.

  He kissed her again, a nipping tease of his lips against hers. “A little, yeah.”

  “Should we stop?”

  At that, he pulled back a little, meeting her eyes. “Do you want to stop?”

  She slipped off of the stool, leaving her arms around his neck. “I want you to fuck me,” she said without an ounce of uncertainty. “Fuck me like you hate me.”

  Javi and Aerin stumbled into Aerin’s hotel room, a whirling tangle of mouths and limbs. Aerin’s heart beat fast and hard in her chest, blood rushing hotly through her veins. In some distant, wine-soaked part of her brain, she knew this was probably a colossally bad idea, but she didn’t care. How could she care about anything with Javi’s ridiculously talented mouth on her, making all of her sex dreams come to life?

  And yet…a tiny part of her knew she was a fool to want this. Knew she was in danger of crashing and burning and ending up engulfed in flames of her own making.

  But then Javi backed her against the wall, sucked the skin just below her ear and flicked his thumb over her beaded nipple through her dress, and she didn’t care. If it felt this good, maybe she wanted to burn.