by KB Winters
“That was hardly necessary. I am perfectly capable of defending myself against douchebag men,” I said with a slight frown. I looked up at him, startled when he dipped a bit closer to me.
His hair was blonde, or perhaps a light brown. It was hard to tell exactly in the dim lighting of the club. When one of the strobe lights fell on his face, I could see he had storm gray eyes and a strong, sharp jaw line that made me want to reach out and touch him. I shook my head to break myself from those random thoughts.
“A simple thank you would have sufficed ma’am,” he drawled with a slight smirk. His eyes sparkled with amusement.
Unfortunately, I was not amused in the slightest. “A thank you implies gratitude for a necessary deed having been done.”
He tilted his head to the side looking very much like a puppy. A very attractive puppy.
“Is that so?”
“It is,” I replied without thinking. I licked my lips and tried to ignore how his eyes tracked the movement. “If you will excuse me.” I hastily stepped back turning away from his enigmatic eyes and started searching the club frantically for my friends. This man was pushing all the right buttons—buttons I didn’t want to be pushed.
When I spied the group, I made my escape noting the man’s soft chuckle as I literally ran away from him. I was sure he’d probably never had a woman try to get away from him, but I was surprised not to hear any disparaging remarks in my direction. Typically when I turned men like him down, there were sexist remarks hurled at me. The fact that he did none of that—that I could hear, anyway—was a pleasant surprise.
“Who was that guy you were talking to?” I pulled my focus back to what was going on around me. Heather was standing in front of me, but her gaze was pinned on something behind me.
“No one,” I said quickly hoping that she’d drop it. When I saw her eyebrows rise until they were hidden by her brunette bangs, I knew instantly she’d be doing no such thing.
“No one, huh? Well in that case, you wouldn’t mind if Tiffany went and talked to him, would you?”
“What?” I whirled around sweeping my gaze around the club until I finally found the guy again. He had abandoned the dance floor and was now standing at the bar engaged in what looked to be flirtatious conversation with a certain blonde twit that I hated with a passion. “Of course she would,” I muttered.
“Seems her and Tom are on the outs,” Heather said. “Or at least that’s what she said. Who knows if she actually told Tom, he may not even know.”
I snorted. “She’ll probably continue stringing him along for the money until she can sink her claws into some other rich sucker.” I turned away from the nauseating display, but not before my gaze met with the blonde man’s above Tiffany’s head. He gave a small smile, just the corners of his lips curled up, but I turned away without acknowledging that I’d noticed him. No sense in inflating his probably already overblown ego.
“Probably. I think Kelly was trying to convince her to give Tom another chance, at what…I have no idea. I doubt the poor guy even knows anything is wrong,” Heather joked as we walked over to the reserved section where most of the other women in the party sat.
“One of these days that woman is going to burn the wrong guy and he’s going to order a hit on her or something.” I wasn’t serious about it, but the way Tiffany blew through men, it was a possibility. Still, I couldn’t help but look back at them. His smile was wide and yet it looked almost…practiced. I raised an eyebrow as I continued staring. It wasn’t normal to see a man unaffected by Tiffany’s insidious charms. If he didn’t go home with her at the end of the night, I might give him a gold star for not being an insufferable—
“If you liked him, you should have just kept talking to him,” Kelly said. I looked over, internally wincing at being caught staring.
“Like who?” I asked trying to feign confusion. I knew who she was talking about and she knew it as well, but it was automatic for me to try to deny it. Kelly’s smile was knowing and this time I winced externally. “Don’t start, Kels.”
“Oh come on! He’s attractive, you’re attractive—“
“He seems well entertained chatting it up with Tiffany,” I hissed, hoping to put an end to the conversation. Unwillingly my gaze was drawn back to the bar, but I was surprised when I saw neither Tiffany nor the guy. Where the heck could they have gone? “No way.”
“What?”
“Surely Tiffany wouldn’t be dumb enough to fuck some random guy in the club?” I asked. I couldn’t keep the annoyance out of my voice, but I tried to ignore Kelly’s smug grin.
“No. Tiffany walked away very much alone and seemingly very much annoyed and drinkless,” Kelly said.
“Hmm,” I hummed to myself. I didn’t want to encourage her to start getting ideas, but I mentally gave the man a gold star for withstanding Tiffany’s ability to bring anyone with a penis to their knees within the first meeting. I tried not to smile too noticeably when Tiffany came back over to us in a foul mood. I gave the man another gold star for knocking her down a few notches. When I looked over at Kelly, she had a knowing smile on her face as if she knew exactly what I was thinking. I didn’t let it bother me and took another sip of my drink.
An hour or so of dancing and enjoying being out with friends and I figured another drink couldn’t hurt. Tomorrow was Saturday anyway and the only plans I had for the weekend were doing laundry and relaxing. I nodded my head to the music as I wound my way through the crowd and to the bar. I had to maneuver a bit in order to slide into a space where I could at least see one of the bartenders. At around five feet four inches tall, I wasn’t the tallest person and my heels definitely gave me a few more inches to play with, but it was still difficult to see over people’s shoulders. It didn’t help that a bunch of tall and rowdy fraternity boys were gathered around being generally obnoxious. I tried to ignore them as I held up a hand to get one of the bartender’s attention.
“Hey baby. Maybe I can buy you a drink and you can show me what’s under that sexy little dress.”
I rolled my eyes. It seemed that college guys all took a cue from the same shitty book when it came to flirting. When a bartender finally came over I quickly called out my order leaning over the bar slightly so she could hear me. The feeling of a palm cupping my ass made me jerk back and I whirled around angry that someone would actually have the gall to invade my space like that. I opened up my mouth ready to give him a verbal tongue lashing, but stopped abruptly.
“What are you…?” My voice trailed off when I came face to face with the same guy from earlier. He had a grip on the back of another guy’s neck. “What are you doing?” I was horrified to hear my voice crack. Who the hell was this guy?
The blonde man glanced at me before turning his focus on the guy who he still held tightly. “I believe you owe the lady an apology.”
The asshole who’d groped me winced, presumably at the pain of having his neck gripped so harshly. If not for the fact that he had accosted me, I might have almost felt bad for him. As it was, I just crossed my arms and raised my eyebrow waiting to see what he’d do. After a moment, he looked up at me with anger, but surprisingly the vitriol I was expecting didn’t materialize.
“I’m sorry.”
Now both of my eyebrows raised in surprise. He didn’t sound as if he completely meant it, but that I was expecting. Still, I nodded slightly and tried not to smirk too obviously as he rubbed the back of his neck when he was released.
“Good. Now get the hell out of here,” Blondie said. His voice was low and gruff. It was downright sinful how good he sounded, and unbidden thoughts of how it would sound when in the throes of passion came to my mind.
“Fuck,” I uttered softly before turning back to the bar. My drink was there in front of me and I took a grateful sip to distract myself from my treacherous thoughts. The liquid was cold, just like I needed and I reached for my wristlet to get my debit card out so I could pay.
“Here, let me.” A strong arm came into
my line of vision and my gaze was drawn to it. Sun-kissed skin that looked smooth and unblemished made me swallow hard and despite fighting internally, I found myself turning to look back at my apparent guardian.
“Are you following me? Because technically that’s called stalking and it’s illegal in all fifty states.” I could have kicked myself for blurting that out without thinking. Instead of being offended like I thought he’d be, he laughed. And his deep voice, coupled with that laugh gave me goose bumps. I shivered. God, even his laugh was sinfully seductive.
“Cute, but with a little bit of a bite. Definitely an attractive sort of bitchiness that you don’t see all that often,” He said with a smile. He held his hand out. “Cole Bryant. Pleasure to make your acquaintance Ms…” His voice trailed off and I thought about saying something biting in response. Imagine my surprise when my mouth again spoke without direction from me.
“Savannah Rogers.” I shook his hand and tried not to whimper at how warm his large hand was in comparison to mine. When he leaned closer, I could smell his spicy scent and I wanted to bury my nose in his chest and just let the aroma surround me.
“Savannah. That’s a beautiful name and quite different from the Becky’s and Sarah’s I usually come across here.”
“Or Tiffany.” I snorted. When his eyebrow rose in amusement, I rolled my eyes. “Well, thank you for the drink.”
He stepped forward until he could lean his elbow on the bar. His gray gaze was sharp and it was like a physical caress as it traveled across my face. I knew what he was seeing—dark brown hair, pale skin and non-descript hazel eyes. Women that looked like me were a dime a dozen.
“You are exquisite.”
I barked out a surprised laugh. “Wow. Your vocabulary is quite impressive for someone at the club.”
Cole chuckled. “Well I could tell you that your lips look like they were made to suck cock or something equally degrading and inappropriate for a first meeting, but I have a distinct feeling that you wouldn’t like it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And you’d be right.”
“Then as I said—exquisite. I typically find the women who do like that kind of talk for a first meeting usually aren’t looking for anything other than a night of mediocre sex from an insecure meathead,” he finished with a smile. When the bartender came back over, he signed the receipt and put a ten-dollar bill down as a tip. “Of which I am neither. Insecure, possibly only in the morning—but meathead, pretty much never.”
I didn’t respond but I also couldn’t keep my eyes off of him. He was tall—probably a few inches over six feet. His shoulders were broad and toned as if he spent a fair amount of time in the gym as were his biceps that were barely covered by the gray Henley he was wearing. When my gaze wandered down, I took in his dark wash jeans that were just tight enough to show his equally muscular legs and I couldn’t help how my cheeks blushed as I noticed the slight bulge that was either his equally impressive cock or non-discreetly placed tube socks.
“So what do you do, Savannah?”
His question made me jerk my eyes up and away and I hoped he hadn’t watched me practically undress him with my eyes. “I’m a high school principal. You?” I took another sip of my drink to cover up my awkward pause and tried to will the flush from my cheeks. Being pale was sometimes a serious liability.
“I’m an officer in the Marines. MARSOC,” he answered.
I nodded. “Wow. What’s that?”
“Marine. Special Ops.”
“Double wow. You must’ve seen some thrilling action, no?” I looked up at him and internally blanched at how intensely he was gazing at me. If I’d been undressing him with my eyes, he was practically fucking me with his. The flush that I’d almost banished, came back with a vengeance.
“There’s nothing thrilling about war. It’s bloody and messy—the worst of human inventions. If not for certain paths in my life, I doubt I would’ve ever been a part of it.” His answer was soft and if we weren’t standing so close together, I probably wouldn’t have heard his answer.
“Oh.”
He leaned in and I held my breath. Geezus, I wanted this man with every fucking fiber of my being. Never had I ever felt so intensely attracted to someone outside of television. I licked my lips and like last time, his gaze followed my motion.
“Forgive me for being so bold and blunt, but do you want—“
I don’t know what came over me, but in that moment I ignored everything that my head was screaming at me and just went with my gut. I moved forward standing on my tiptoes in order to push my lips against his. I felt him jerk as if in shock and for a moment I thought I’d read all of the signs so terribly wrong until his hands cupped my cheeks. His lips came alive against mine moving slightly until they mashed in the perfect angle. The electricity in our contact had me parting my lips in a wanton groan of pleasure. I expected him to take advantage of my offering, but instead he pulled back.
I had to force myself not to follow his lips.
“As much as I would love to continue this here, this club is not the right venue for all of the things I want to do to you right now, Savannah Rogers.” His voice was practically a growl and I knew right then that I was toast. I’d give in.
I wanted this man above me, beneath me, inside me and damn the consequences.
“Come home with me.”
Chapter Two
The uber ride to my apartment was fraught with sexual tension and I had to force myself not to look at Cole for fear of getting thrown out. It seemed he had the same idea as me as he kept his hands and eyes to his side of the back seat. I could see the driver glance at us in his rearview mirror every so often, so I figured the feeling must be palpable. When we reached my apartment building, Cole paid the driver and I sent a quick text to Heather to call me tomorrow just to make sure I was still alive. Usually I had Kelly for that, but when we’d left the club she was well on her way to being incoherently drunk and I doubted she’d be awake before noon—let alone in any state to actually remember to call me.
“Relax. I assure you I am not a serial killer,” Cole said. He rested his warm palm against my lower back as he followed me into the building. I nodded my greeting to the security guard as we passed his station and he gave me a knowing smile in return.
“That’s what a serial killer would say,” I answered back with a nervous smile. Typically, when I did engage in one-night stands, I didn’t bring the person back to my house, but tonight—I was just full of surprises.
While we rode up the elevator, I had a flashback to one of the romance novels I’d read where the couple had a passion-filled kiss against the elevator wall, but though the tension was still thick—Cole pretty much kept his hands to himself. He still rested his palm against my back, but other than that, he was a perfect gentleman.
All that changed once we got inside my apartment.
In a flash, I found myself pressed against the door with two large hands once again cupping my cheeks. Soft, yet insistent lips moved against mine and the sounds of pleasure I’d bit back in the club were allowed to be voiced freely behind closed doors. My own hands gripped the bottom of his shirt and I pulled him in until there was barely any space left between us. His spicy musky scent from the club was enveloping me and driving me wild with unrelenting need.
“God, I need you in me,” I choked out once I’d moved my head back enough to take in a deep breath. Our gazes locked onto one another and I could see the fire of arousal in his eyes. It was enough to pull all of the air from my lungs. I’d never had anyone look at me that intensely before—as if I was everything that they could ever need—or want.
The hands that were cupping my cheeks withdrew and I wondered if I’d gone too far. Maybe he’d just wanted to make out a little?
“Geezus!” I yelped when his hands came back to grip behind my upper thighs, right below my asscheeks. He pulled, sweeping my legs out from underneath me and resting them against his hips. The motion made my dress slide up until the lace o
f my thong underwear was easily visible. Still, his gaze didn’t shift from mine.
The fact that he could pick me up and hold me there so easily was like shooting off fireworks in my head. I suddenly pictured many more uses for his strength that might not always involve a bed.
“Bedroom?” Cole asked. His lips brushed against the edge of my jaw and I leaned my head back further to give him more room to explore.
“Go right around the corner and it’s the first door on the left,” I whispered. I was going to ask him if he wanted me to turn on the light for him, but he started moving in the direction I gave without pausing.
The short walk from the front door to my bedroom seemed to take forever in my lust drunk mind, but when I felt Cole bend and the bed against my back I groaned in relief.
“I need you like one-thousand percent more naked buddy.”
He leaned back slightly and gave me a little smile. “Is that so?”
I nodded and tugged at his shirt. “It is. My bed, my rules.”
Cole’s smile turned into a sexy smirk, but he leaned back and helped me pull his shirt over his head. If I thought he was attractive clothed—his naked chest was even more mesmerizing. He was evenly tan with a fine dusting of blonde hair like the hair on his head. His chest was well defined and I followed the natural curve of his body down to his more than noticeable abs that I couldn’t help but run my fingers across. He flexed slightly and I allowed myself to go with the motion, shifting until I could lean forward and run my lips across the skin my fingers had been caressing.
“So good baby,” he rumbled out. I could feel his hands gently running through my hair. Normally, I hated when guys put their hands in my hair while I was in this position, but with Cole, it felt natural. When his blunt nails scratched along my scalp, I sighed with pleasure.