He looks good.
He always looks good but today in a black suit, black shirt open at the neck, he looks good. His shaggy dirty blonde hair hanging loose; his bright blue eyes are warm and slightly heated as his eyes freely roam over me from top to bottom. The way he’s looking at me, reminds me of that one night over two years ago we shared and never really talked about again. The heated gaze makes me want to squirm.
Damn. He looks REALLY good. Not having had sex in over two years is really messing with my brain. Especially since he’s the last man I’d had sex with. Slightly tempted to see if I could take it there again with Matt, knowing that if I did go there again, it wouldn’t mean anything to him. I’d be one more notch on his bedpost.
Not that I want it to mean something. Not really. Meaning something to someone isn’t in the cards for me, not like that at least. Maybe I had once thought it could happen, finding my one and only. Someone that would belong to me and I would belong to them, but not anymore. I didn’t have it in me to try to shoot for more, to believe in fairy tales and happy endings. It’s not anything personal against Matt, he was actually great.
Getting close to people isn’t my strong suit. If it wasn’t for Lucy’s incessant requests to hang out and Tess’s straight, no bullshit way of talking I probably wouldn’t even have them. Luckily for me, I did. I have my girls and the few people that come with them. That is good enough for me.
“Hey, honey. Happy birthday,” his husky voice whispers as he leans over to kiss my cheek. Breathing in, I inhale the woodsy scent of his cologne mixing with the menthol of the cigarettes he prefers, letting it fall over me in a comforting way.
“Thanks, Matt.” I say softer than usual.
Something about him does that to me, softens me up a bit. It always has, even before he was Lucy’s bodyguard and a bouncer at Shine. Maybe it’s because of the similar way we were brought up. Both of us have that rough exterior, but with one another it is different. With one another, it is as if we recognize that we are birds of a feather.
Matt is the poster child for sexy bad boys with tattoos, muscles and a wicked gleam in his bright blue eyes. We met when I worked at Shine. The Madame of the West Coast, Belle Garibaldi, had a variety of employees, from busboys, chefs, strippers, escorts, escorts that went the extra mile, and a slew of security to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.
Yes. I worked there.
I began as a waitress, fetching drinks for the rich and powerful men that held business meetings at the club or watched the dancers as they blew off steam from their stress filled lives. Then I decided to try my hand at being a dancer, yup I’d once been a stripper. To my surprise, I was good at it. Later, I even escorted a few men to business dinners. Some of them were men in high places who needed arm candy because they were in the closet. Others were just extremely busy men, who didn’t have the time to look for their own dates. I didn’t regret what had happened. I never crossed any lines. I never did ‘extras’ when they’d been requested, and even when offered significant amounts of money to do so. Even when I knew those offers would help speed up my time working at Shine. Tess and I had both decided to start a business together and it would have helped accomplish getting there faster, I still hadn’t.
None of the four of us had crossed that line.
Lucy and Tess had been waitresses and escorts. Accompanying men who wanted company and were too busy to look for it on their own. Carrie had been a waitress and bartender. Matt had started working security at the front door, as a bouncer, and he was now one of Belle’s most highly valued employees. He ran security. He was her right hand man when it came to making sure no one stepped out of line and her girls were safe.
We’d developed a friendship from the moment we met. Over two years ago we’d a one night stand, and it was a VERY hot night. It was a night that had been gratifying and emotionally overwhelming. When I woke up before dawn, I left. The next day rumors were flying at Shine that he was seeing one of the other dancers. I didn’t let myself believe it. I’d thought we had shared something more than hot sex, I should have known better.
Women around other women can be catty, and the women at Shine were NOT an exception to rule. The attraction Matt and I had, had been pretty obvious. Our friendship even stronger, and Matt being shit hot, I knew some of the girls wanted a piece of him.
I hadn't heard from him for three days after our romp and when I did, he walked into the club hand in hand with Vikki, one of the other dancers. One of whom was rumored to work the ‘extra mile’ in the VIP rooms. I was surprised by them hooking up, and a little hurt. I’d put my hand out there, even if it was a crappy attempt at grabbing at something more, but my hand had been slapped back. Life had taught me a long time ago, not to want more than life was willing to give me. After watching Matt swagger into Shine, Vicki on his arm, I decided I was going off men. I was done believing in love.
Ego bruised and my heart slightly chipped, I was better off on my own. And I had been. I focused on myself and on working hard so that I never again had to work at Shine. With money saved up and an opportunity we couldn’t refuse, Tess and I went into business together. Opening our small bakery, we jumped in, working ceaselessly the last two years to make the bakery the success it is now.
“This is for you.” Matt snaps me out of my own thoughts as he hands me a small square box from his jacket. He places it in my hands and I look at him not knowing what to say.
Sure after our one night we’d somehow floated back to being friends that never talked about what had happened that night.
“Thanks, Matt.” I say looking at the small white box with an orange bow on top.
“Open it later.” He says kissing my forehead and walking away.
****
Walking into Wind, a new place Lucy had heard of, the music is loud and I can feel the energy of the club seep into my blood and I’m immediately glad I let them talk me into this. The girls and I walk directly to the bar, Matt following. We’d grown used to him going with us, since he was Lucy’s bodyguard. Belle didn’t take chances with her employees’ safety, especially with Lucy. I wasn’t sure why that was, but I knew that something had happened to spur that. Trying to shake the thoughts of something bad having happened to my sweet friend and her not sharing it with those of us closest to her, I concentrate on the drinks we’re ordering.
After a round of shots we are now smiling, drinking our cocktails and heading to the center of the dance floor. Letting the music flow through us, we dance and laugh, taking selfies with our cell phones. The huge club is quickly filling with bodies everywhere. I have finished my cocktail, my glass is empty. I let Tess know I’m heading to the bar for a refill and a needed break from the heat generated by the enormous number of bodies on the dance floor.
Standing at the bar, the cute surfer bartender points his finger at me and I smile and nod at him, letting him know I’m not in a hurry. The couple standing next to me leaves and it is instantly filled with broad shoulders. Glancing to my side, I take in the deep charcoal dress shirt next to me, but before I can look up I feel lips at my ear and a warm breath tickles my ear.
“Hi, Liz,” a deep voice says softly, a shiver runs down my spine.
I look up surprised to have someone know my name approach me at the club, only to meet a pair of beautiful grey eyes and the extremely handsome face that has filled my dreams the last two months.
The stranger from the charity event a couple of months ago is standing next to me. Hottie McMysterious, RIGHT next to me! The twelve year old girl that lives inside of every woman jumps up and down in sheer joy at the coincidence!
The top two buttons of his dress shirt are undone, showing off a hint of dark chest hair that lays beneath and something about that makes my mouth water.
The color of the shirt brings out his eyes and hinted at the extremely powerful body that is beneath the soft looking fabric. Something about him not being waxed and hairless like so many of the men in this city makes me w
ant to squirm in my seat.
I stay silent, his eyes are on me and a wicked smile is on his lips.
He’s as beautiful as I remember him.
No. He’s even more beautiful than two months ago when I had first met him.
Male model turned actor gorgeous. Not in a pretty boy way either, having worked for Belle I had quickly become immune to that type, even if they had never called to me to begin with. No... He was rugged and masculine in every way a man could be, but at the same time not necessarily in a bad boy sort of way.
His wavy hair seems to have been cut since the last time I had saw him. His face sprinkled with a masculine five o’clock shadow makes him look even sexier and gives him a rougher exterior than the clean shaven face I’d seen two months ago. His expression is serious, studious almost.
As he looks at me, I try to figure out what freaking continent my tongue ran off to. Neither of us says anything, until the bartender comes back and smiles right at me. I dare to look away from Hottie McMysterious and order a mojito and Hottie McMysterious orders an expensive whiskey. Once the bartender leaves, he leans his thick powerful body in closer.
“We met at the Breast Cancer Gala a couple of months ago,” He says. As if somehow I forgot.
“Yes, birthday cake guy,” I say smiling trying to be cool and utterly failing. In my mind I’m chastising myself for calling him the birthday cake guy. His eyes remain on me, he nods.
“So... what are you doing here?” he asks.
“Girl’s night out,” I answer avoiding the fact that I’m out celebrating my birthday. I hate my birthday.
“So I heard you’re directly to blame,” he says, voice low. I lean in closer, his face is merely a few inches from mine.
“Blame for what?” I ask, hoping he isn’t about to spout a cheesy pickup line.
“For the extra time at the gym, I’ve been to your shop one too many times.” He laughs and I can’t help laughing with him, trying not to show my surprise.
“Oh. Yes. Sorry. It’s usually women who blame me for that. Not men,” leaning in. My mouth is close to his neck, close enough he can hear me talk over the loud music.
Sure that’s why.
Breathing in all I can think about is how decadent he would smell if I breathed him in, how good it would feel to lick his thick muscular neck. In my entire life I have never been tempted to sniff a person, but at the moment I was. The scent of his cologne and the heat of his skin radiated off of him and enveloped me, but it wasn’t enough. Something in me wanted to get as close as humanly possible to him and then shoot for the impossible of getting even closer. It was as if something about him beckoned me, calling to me like a boat to a lighthouse.
He moved closer to me, his lips touching my ear. His touch makes shivers run down my spine and my toes curl inside my shoes. My brain stops functioning, since it is letting a strange man, get this close and I know he knows I’m enjoying his touch. He takes a breath and hoarsely whispers, “I guess you can say I have a sweet tooth.”
If he has a sweet tooth, then I’m a freaking sugar plum fairy, three hundred and sixty-five days of the year! Of course I don’t say that. Though, I am seriously tempted too.
Instead, I lean away from his body, straighten my back looking at him as his eyes follow my movements. Oh yeah. He knows the effect he has on me. He gives me a cocky smile, a dimple showing on the left side of his face. Even if he is playing some kind of game, even with his cockiness and confidence that teetered on arrogance I am intrigued by him.
“What’s your favorite?” I ask, trying to hide my curiosity. But the way his eyes dance with amusement, I know I’m doing a shitty job. It unnerves me that a stranger can read me that well. No. Not a stranger, this stranger. This stranger, who had slipped into my dreams and sees something more when he looks at me.
“What do you think is my favorite?” he retorts, raising an eyebrow making him even more sinful. I bite the inside of my bottom lip.
At that moment the bartender walks over, our drinks in hand. Opening my clutch to find my wallet, Hottie McMysterious’ massive hand covers mine. I look at him in surprise and I know my eyes are wide for two reasons.
I wasn’t expecting him to touch me and I was not expecting my reaction to it.
His touch is a jolt of something. Not electricity, like you read in romance novels, but more of a heated energy that transferred from his hand to mine. Not just body heat from touching skin to skin, but more. A lot more! It is a heat that suddenly fills your chest and stomach, quickly filtering its way throughout your entire body and exiting through your toes.
That came from one single touch?
All of this happens quickly. Probably within seconds, but my mind processed it in slow motion. Every blink of an eye, each breathe. I soak in his serious stare as he shakes his head. Did he feel it too? The feel of his hand over mine is slightly overwhelming. The slight roughness surprises me, but I don’t think about what he does with his hands that would make them slightly rough. Nope. I don’t think at all.
All that my sex deprived mind is capable of doing at that moment is conjuring up several dirty thoughts of various ways those massive hands can touch my body and how it would feel. I watch as he hands a hundred dollar bill to the bartender without looking away from me. Something about the way he did that nags at me. It nags in a way that bothers me. Making me stand straighter, making my brain start to work again.
“No Change,” Mc Mysterious rumbles, his eyes on mine and I swallow… hard.
Breaking his stare, I look as the bartender smiles then shakes his head and takes his next order.
“You really didn’t have to do that.” I tell him my voice soft.
I don’t like that. I’m not soft and sweet. Been there done that and have the patch work soul to prove it. Yet here I am, stupidly drooling, talking softly to him. I can feel my annoyance growing as he looks at me and speaks.
“A beautiful woman should never drink alone much less buy her own drinks.” He chimes and a slight blush spreads over my cheeks with the insinuation that he thinks I’m beautiful.
“A little chauvinistic maybe, don’t you think?” I sass back.
I don’t know if I want to tell him about women’s rights and how we are now able to vote and own property; or if I want him to kiss me stupid, then make him meatloaf and fetch his slippers. I’m almost sure it’s the latter, without the cooking and fetching. Something about the way his eyes move to my mouth, tells me that he would definitely be up for the challenge.
It unnerves me. Yup, I am seriously and officially unnerved.
He raises his eyebrow at me again and I can tell he’s amused. I’d love to be the type of woman who could intrigue a man like him, but I would take amusing him any day of the week and twice on Sundays.
“You didn’t tell me what dessert is my favorite from your shop,” he changes the subject. His face is serious. Little lines at his eyes, more pronounced making me think he is the type of man to smile, a lot. It makes me want to somehow make him smile for me; my earlier annoyance quickly fades away.
“That’s a tough one. Depends on when you went. Our menu varies….”
“Guess from your daily menu,” he says confidently. I also like that he knows we have a daily menu, proving he isn’t lying about visiting the shop.
“Daily menu? For a man? I would usually guess something like a double chocolate cupcake. That’s what men gravitate more towards, simple and decadent at the same time.” I answer completely honest.
“But?” he asks with curiosity in his eyes, one side of his lips slightly twitching as if he’s trying to hide a smile.
“You don’t seem like the cupcake type.” Smiling as I sip my drink.
“So you don't think I’m simple and decadent?” he asks as a laugh escapes my mouth. It falls on deaf ears when he smiles at me.
It’s a smile that makes you gooey. Holy hell and vanilla buttercream frosting, I didn’t know smiles could do that.
“Somehow, I d
on’t think simple is a way even your own mom would use to describe you.” I answer back, “As for decadent, I’m sure that more than a fair share of women have had a taste.” My face burns, as the words spew out.
He laughs and something tightens in my stomach.
He has a great laugh, an honest laugh.
Deep and rich coming from somewhere deep within him. A real man’s laugh. One that makes you want to be wrapped up in his arms as his strong body shakes with laughter, so that the joy of it can seep into your own soul. It mesmerizes me and I can’t help but smile as I watch him.
God! I need to get out of here before I melt into a puddle at his feet or worse hump his leg, I think to myself, but I genuinely don’t want to go. I like whatever flirting game we are playing.
“From the daily menu alone… I would have to guess the mandarin orange cream napoleons.” I tell him, sipping my drink. The club feels warmer in only minutes, my skin feels too hot. My eyes go to his strong thick neck, my mouth going dry at the sight of a slight sheen of sweat over his skin. Even his sweat is sexy as hell, and I want to lick him.
“Interesting.” his voice vibrates deeply, making me look away from his sexy neck and look into his eyes. The scorching look he is giving me makes me clench my thighs together for relief.
“Was I right?” I ask, curious to see if I’ve read him correctly. He rubs his chin with his hand.
“Why don’t you make me an assortment of desserts and bring them by my place tomorrow? I’ll take care of dinner?” He asks smoothly, and I almost jump up and down in glee yelling YES.
“Do you cook?” I ask, he smiles leaning in closer.
“Maybe.” He answers with a flirtatious wink that makes my body react and I tilt my head.
What am I doing asking that? Now he is going to think I’m going to say yes...
He’s definitely charming, on top of being handsome, and really tempting. REALLY tempting! But even through my lust fogged mind I can see he is trouble. He is the kind of trouble that I have carefully and intentionally avoided for the last five years. I wasn’t about to lie to myself though. I’m tempted. I am more tempted than I’ve ever been to throw caution to the wind and say yes.
Etched in Stone (Six Degrees Series Book 2) Page 3