He's Not My Boyfriend

by Jackie Lau

  Jamie ordered an IPA—of course he did—and Eve ordered a cider. When she circled her hand around her glass, Alex immediately saw the ring.

  “You’re engaged?” he asked.

  She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “We are.”

  “Congratulations.” Alex meant it, he really did, though he suspected his tone of voice didn’t exactly express that. “When were you going to tell me?”

  Eve turned to Jamie. “I told you he’d notice.” She turned back to Alex. “My fiancé was convinced you wouldn’t notice the ring, so we agreed to give you half an hour to see who was right.”

  Alex stood up and hugged Jamie, then Eve, but he felt a little robotic as he did it. He sat back down and had a long sip of his beer and tried to remember what the right thing to say in this situation was.

  “Have you set a date?” he finally asked.

  Eve shook her head. “Hopefully next summer, but we have a lot to figure out.”

  “Right,” Alex said. “I bet Jamie wants to get married at sunset under a great white tent, surrounded by thousands of tropical flowers and twinkling fairy lights.”

  Eve gripped Jamie’s arm. “Alex has the best ideas, doesn’t he? We should do that. I’ll ride in on a pony! What other ideas do you have, Alex?”

  “Um. A unicorn?”

  “If Eve can find a real unicorn, it can participate in the ceremony,” Jamie said, “but people in costume do not count. Nor do stuffed animals. Or ponies with horns taped to their heads.”

  “While we’re on the topic,” Eve said, “I found a great store on Queen Street the other day. Everything it sells is unicorn- or rainbow-themed.”

  And that was how a night out with his friends turned into a twenty-minute discussion about rainbows and unicorns. Alex had very little to contribute. He sipped his beer and looked around the bar, wondering what black-and-white movie was playing on the television and why they couldn’t show a baseball game instead.

  “Do you think he’s mad at us for talking about unicorns?” Eve asked in a not-so-hushed voice.

  “I assume so,” Jamie said, “and, frankly, I’ve said everything I can on the topic.”

  “All you did was repeat the word ‘no’ a lot.”

  “I’m glad you were listening. Hey, Alex.”

  He turned his head. “What?”

  “You know what you need?” Jamie asked, then gave him no chance to answer the question. “A woman.”

  “Yes!” Eve said excitedly. “We’re going to find you a woman tonight!”

  “What is this woman for?” Alex asked. “To marry? To date? Or for a one-night stand?”

  Eve shrugged. “Any of the above.”

  “You can’t predict what will happen,” Jamie said, then kissed his fiancée on the lips.

  Those lovebirds really ought to get a room.

  “What about the hipster girl at the back?” Eve nodded toward a brunette with large glasses and a toque. Her beverage was bright red.

  “No,” Alex said. “I’m not interested in anyone who wears a winter hat indoors in the summer and who’s drinking something that looks like liquid Jolly Ranchers.”

  Eve rolled her eyes. “The woman with the pixie cut?”

  “What the hell is a pixie cut?”

  “The woman in the brown dress.”

  She was decent-looking, and it looked like she was drinking the same thing as he was...and she was now kissing another man.

  Okay. That was a no.

  He couldn’t say he was terribly disappointed. He wasn’t in the mood for this, to be honest. Too complicated. Too much effort.

  Eve looked over at him. “You’ve sure been working out a lot lately.”

  “Shh,” Jamie said. “You’re not supposed to pay attention to any man but me, babe.”

  “Aww, jealous, are you?” She slid into the seat next to Alex. “Can I see your abs? Do you have a six-pack? An eight-pack?”

  “Um...”

  She was right, though. He’d been working out a lot. Sometimes twice a day on the weekend. It felt good to push his body these days, even more so than usual.

  Eve wrapped her hand around his bicep. “Flex for me.”

  He did as requested, though he felt a little ridiculous.

  And that was when he saw her. An Asian woman, perhaps Chinese, at the far end of the bar, with black hair and a dark blue dress that ended around her knees. She was laughing at something her friend had said, and she put her whole body into the laugh, and it was just fucking gorgeous. She had an expressive face and pink lips he yearned to kiss.

  Her.

  Yes, her.

  He didn’t want a date. He didn’t want a relationship. He didn’t want any complications.

  He just wanted her for tonight.

  Chapter 3

  Usually, Iris would assume that any man flexing his muscles in a craft beer bar, of all places, was a complete douchenozzle. But this man was scowling—though it was a sexier scowl than that of the lumbersexual in the corner—and it looked like he wanted this to be over.

  And then Iris noticed the blonde woman with her arm wrapped around his bicep.

  Shit.

  Iris’s gaze collided with his for a blindingly intense moment.

  She looked away. He might be as hot as Simu Liu, but it appeared he already had a girl.

  “You want to come with me?” Crystal asked. “Looks like Mr. Lumbersexual has a friend.”

  He did indeed. His friend looked like a mini version of him, about a foot shorter and without the bulk. His beard was just as big, however, and it looked large enough for a robin or two to build a nest in it without him noticing. That beard kind of scared Iris, to be honest.

  Plus, she had her eye on someone else.

  But he was taken.

  “Sure,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll go.”

  “Mm.” Crystal batted her eyelashes. “Or maybe you won’t.”

  Iris spun around and came face-to-face with him. The Asian man with the great biceps.

  He was a few inches taller than her when she was wearing heels, which put him at about five-eight. Overall, he seemed...compact. Lots of muscle and intensity packed into a not-huge—but far from tiny—package. He had a nice tan, which she suspected was from working outside, and short black hair.

  “I’ll see you,” Crystal said, smirking.

  Iris was still staring at the man in front of her, but she registered her friend moving toward Mr. Lumbersexual at the back.

  She needed to look less like an open-mouthed idiot. Yes. That would be a good start.

  “I’m Alex,” he said, offering her a small smile.

  “Out of curiosity, Alex, who’s the woman who was feeling up your arm muscles?”

  “That’s Eve. She’s engaged to my friend Jamie.”

  Iris followed his gaze to the table where he’d been seated. The blonde woman waved at them enthusiastically, then cupped her hands over her mouth and attempted to shout something across the loud bar, but Iris couldn’t make out the words. Possibly it was, “He’s single,” possibly something else.

  “Your friend doesn’t mind when she touches you like that?” Iris asked.

  “Oh, I think he minded. Just a little. Particularly when she asked to see my six-pack.”

  “Does such a thing exist?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He had a sip of his beer and raised his eyebrows over the rim of the glass. “What’s your name?”

  “Iris. Now that you know my name, can you do for me what you did for Eve?”

  He bent his elbow and raised his arm, and she wrapped her hand around his warm skin. When his muscles hardened, parts of her did the opposite and seemed to liquefy.

  Nice. Very nice.

  “Iris? I feel a little silly standing like this in a bar. Maybe you could let go—for now?”

  She dropped her hand.

  “I’d offer to buy you a drink,” he said, nodding at her glass, “but you still have three-quarters of a glass to go
. What on earth is that shit? It looks like melted lollipops or Jolly Ranchers.”

  “It’s raspberry beer,” she said, pretending to be affronted. “It’s actually quite tasty.”

  He held out his hand, and she passed him her glass. He took a sip, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

  “That’s not beer,” he said. “It’s alcoholic juice.”

  “That’s why it’s so delicious. It doesn’t actually taste like beer.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be called beer.”

  “Don’t look at me. I didn’t make the rules.”

  A group of men came in, and Alex had to press closer to her as they walked past to a table at the back. His closeness was intoxicating. His hand landed on her shoulder, and he kept his gaze on hers. When she nodded, indicating that it was okay—more than okay, actually—he flicked the strap of her dress with his finger.

  “I like your dress,” he said.

  “I was at my cousin’s wedding earlier, and I didn’t bother getting changed afterward.”

  “You went to a wedding today, and then you went to a bar?”

  “It was a morning wedding, afternoon reception. There wasn’t much alcohol—only a small amount of champagne and wine—and I desperately needed a drink after spending hours and hours with my family.” She had a gulp of her alcoholic juice to emphasize the point.

  “What’s wrong with your family?” he inquired, his hand still on her shoulder.

  “I’m an only child and the last single grandchild. I’m sure you can imagine. Everyone is desperate to marry me off, despite my protests. And I’ve somehow agreed to move in with my grandmother, so there’s that, too. But don’t worry, I’m not drunk. This is only my second drink, and I plan to stop after this one, so you won’t get a chance to buy me a beer.”

  He slid his fingers down her arm to her hand. “I hope you’re not saying you aren’t interested.”

  She inhaled sharply at his touch, at the deep richness of his voice. “I’m not saying anything of the sort.”

  He twisted the iron ring on her pinky finger. “What kind of engineer are you?”

  Ah. He knew what the ring meant. She looked to see if he had a similar ring. He didn’t.

  “Alex, I don’t think you give a shit about what kind of engineer I am, do you?”

  She’d done too much talking today. Spent too much time telling people that she didn’t want to go out with proctologists and lawyers and the sons of women her mother knew from church. She didn’t want to talk anymore. Alex was hot, and her skin sizzled when he touched her...and her instincts told her she was safe with him. It wasn’t like she’d just walked up to him and kissed him; they’d talked a bit. Gotten to know each other.

  Well, she didn’t know much about him except for his opinions on beer and her dress, but that was okay. She didn’t need anything more.

  “Or maybe you do care about what kind of engineer I am,” she continued when he didn’t answer. “Maybe you want to get my number and go on a proper date and all that before you kiss me. Maybe you want to be engaged like your friend, and you don’t know where else to meet women other than a craft beer bar.”

  “I assure you, that’s not the case.”

  He reached for her other hand and trailed his fingers from the back of her hand up to her shoulder. When he leaned forward, she felt his breath on her cheek for a moment before he pressed a kiss to her lips. Just one press of his mouth against hers. Nothing more. He held her gaze afterward.

  “I want to take you home with me,” he whispered, dipping his head to her ear. “I want to take you to my bed and use you to forget...and I want you to use me, too. If you just like me for my biceps and my six-pack—”

  “So you do have one.”

  He lifted a shoulder. “You’ll find out soon enough. And if you like the way I look and fuck—and I’m quite sure you’ll like the way I fuck—”

  “Cocky.”

  But she was pretty sure he spoke the truth.

  It was progressing quickly. They’d only just met each other, but he was already talking about fucking. There was no pretense that this was about anything else.

  She liked it. No reason to draw out the game when you knew exactly what you wanted.

  He kissed her again, and she immediately tangled her tongue with his. He cupped her ass and pressed her tight against him, and she could feel his arousal against her stomach. His hand skimmed her side, grazing her covered breast, and she released a soft moan.

  They were in a crowded bar, but it felt like they were in their own little world.

  It was exactly what she needed tonight. To be lost in physical sensations, enjoying his body against hers, so that nothing else mattered.

  “Come home with me now,” he said, his mouth right next to her ear.

  “Of course.” When she stepped back from him, she was momentarily disoriented but soon found her voice again. “I have to say goodbye to my friend first.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I need your name and phone number and address so I can text them to her. Just in case.”

  “No problem.” He supplied the details. Alex Kwong, that was his name. He was still standing so close to her, and she could feel his breath on her face.

  Occasionally, men balked when asked to provide their information and insisted that they were good guys, but Iris was determined to be as safe as she could when it came to her sexual escapades.

  She sent the text to Crystal, then went to say goodbye to her friend, her cheeks warm and her heart pumping in anticipation. Crystal and Mr. Lumbersexual were cozied up at a table, their heads bent together.

  “I’m leaving now,” Iris said, “if that’s okay with you. I sent you his information.”

  Crystal jolted, as though she’d been off in her own little world and was caught off-guard by Iris’s voice.

  Iris knew what that was like.

  “Okay,” Crystal said. “Have fun.”

  “Don’t worry, I will.”

  She was pretty confident Alex could give her exactly what she needed.

  Chapter 4

  “I’m heading out now,” Alex said.

  If he’d only been hanging out with Jamie, he would have felt guilty, but Jamie was with his girlfriend—no, his fiancée—and Alex had felt like a third wheel anyway.

  “Sure thing, man.” Jamie winked at him.

  “You can bring her to our wedding!” Eve squealed.

  Right. He doubted he’d see Iris again after this weekend.

  He met her outside the bar. They hailed a cab and headed to his apartment in the Annex. It wasn’t far, thankfully, and they soon arrived at the large Victorian house where he lived.

  “This is your house?” Iris asked. “I didn’t think I cared about your job, but now, I’m curious.”

  He chuckled. “It was split into apartments years ago.”

  He paid the cab driver and helped her out of the car and up the stairs to his second-floor apartment. Once they were inside, they looked at each other for one long, tense second, and then they were kissing. He pressed her against the door and held her arms out to her sides, pinning her as he explored her with his mouth. Biting her bottom lip, teasing her tongue... When he slid his mouth down to her neck, she arched against him and moaned.

  Fuck, he wanted her.

  Parts of him had become dulled...detached...over the past year. Most of the time, that was necessary and good, but it was nice to know he could still physically crave a woman.

  There had been two other one-night stands in the past year, and they’d been satisfactory. However, he hadn’t ached for those women the way he ached for Iris.

  He pushed the thin straps of her dress off her shoulders, then undid the catch on her strapless bra and tossed it on the floor. He covered her bare breasts with his hands, squeezing and running his thumbs over the brown tips, which made her arch against him. As he continued to manhandle her breasts, he brought his mouth down to hers and kissed her. She seemed wi
lder now, less in control of how she kissed than she had before.

  When he picked her up, she wrapped her legs—her feet still clad in strappy silver heels—around him as he walked to the couch. He sat down with her straddling him, his erection pressing against her thigh, and she immediately reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head.

  “I’ve been wanting to do this all night,” she murmured, scraping her purple fingernails over his pecs, then down his abs.

  He sucked in a breath as she continued to touch him, looking at him in wonder. His cock hardened further and pressed uncomfortably against the zipper on his jeans.

  As if knowing that, she undid his pants and pulled his erection out through the slit in his boxers. He hissed as she wrapped her hand around him, aching to be inside her.

  “Condom,” he croaked, and she pulled one out of her clutch and rolled it on.

  It wasn’t going to be a leisurely fuck.

  Not the first time, anyway.

  She raised her hips. He slipped his hand between her legs and pushed the crotch of her lacy panties to one side. He thrust two fingers inside her, preparing her for his invasion, but she was already so, so wet.

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  She jerked her head. “Now, Alex.”

  He notched his cock against her entrance, and she slowly sank down on him, until he was completely surrounded by her warmth. She wrapped her arms around his back, pressing her bare chest and tits against his skin, and then she started to move up and down.

  He was lost in her. She felt even more amazing than he could have imagined. He cupped her cheeks in his hands as he thrust his hips upward to meet her, and he looked into her eyes, dark with need. Her skin was flushed, her pretty lips parted slightly, and she looked so damn beautiful as she was riding his cock.

  Alex moved his hands to her ass and used them to control her movements, thrusting harder and quicker until she clutched his shoulders and called out his name.

  After her orgasm, her body was limp against his, though her hands still gripped him for dear life. Without coming out of her, he maneuvered them so she was lying on her back on the couch and he was above her. He pressed kisses to her neck and shoulders and stayed still inside of her.