Taste Test
by
Christine d’Abo
Table of Contents
Taking Chances
Pumping Iron
Now Playing
Wilco
Bound for the Bedroom
Night Moves
The Undeciphered Heart
Author Bio
Other Works By Christine d’Abo
Taking Chances
Becka sat at the bar, nursing her second warm beer and wondered when the hell she could duck out of this stupid bachelorette party without pissing off the bride-to-be. The Saturday night crowd at the Flying Ape was unfortunately living up to its reputation. Loud music, meat-heads and women looking to hook up filled the room.
Most of the girls she’d come with were now holding court at the pool tables. Rhianna had been something of a pool shark back in university, and even now every man who sauntered up to the tables looking for an easy win against the bride was soon disappointed. She’d been running the table on them all night. At least she’d had more than a few men suck off the candies they’d gotten put on her shirt pronouncing her bachelorette party. So far, the night had been a success.
Becka had grown tired of watching the endless flirting, cajoling and banter. Normally she’d be home, puttering around her house or surfing the net. Which was only slightly more depressing than sitting alone at a bar, drinking warm beer and being ignored while all her friends were having fun. Rhianna would have teased her about living up to her stuffy, boring librarian stereotype, which Becka would have promptly told her to fuck off.
A loud burst of laughter from the tables drew her attention once more. Wonderful, it looks like a group of men had decided the bachelorette party was fun entertainment for the evening. Rhianna was certainly enjoying her role as queen bee, directing people this way and that. Becka had no doubt before the night was over her friend would manage to setup at least three of the girls.
“They certainly seem to be having a good time.”
Becka turned to face the low rumble of a voice behind her. Not the normal type of man who would approach her in a bar. His blond hair was buzzed short and his tight navy blue T-shirt did little to conceal the fit body underneath. Good looking, but not perfect. His nose seemed to be a bit crooked and a faint scar trailed down his left cheek. It gave him a certain sense of character without him having to say a word.
Taking another swig of her beer, Becka couldn’t hide the grimace as she swallowed it down. “Well, I know my group will give the boys a run for their money. I hope they’re ready for it.”
“Your group?” He cocked an eyebrow. “You seem to be sitting a bit far away from them.”
“I needed to catch my breath.”
“It looks like you need a fresh beer.” The offer was subtle and for a moment, Becka wasn’t sure if she’d understood him correctly. But when she smiled and gave him a slight nod, he took the chair beside her and slid a ten across to the bartender. “Two of what the lady was having.”
God, this was weird. Shifting in her seat, she squeezed the warm bottle not quite willing to give up her lifeline. She wasn’t some crazy-pretty runway model type, and the few times a guy had approached her like this they were normally more aggressive in the douchey kind of way.
Mr. Good Looking half turned on the stool and held out his hand. “John, by the way.”
“Becka.”
His fingers were firm wrapped around hers. Strong hands that consumed hers in a way that had her shivering. John let her go, but he didn’t look away even when the bartender slide the fresh beer in front of them.
“So you’re a friend of the bride?” He took a swallow and the ripple of the muscles in his throat drew her attention. “How did you two meet?”
Oh damn, he actually wanted to get to know her. “She was my roommate in university. We’ve known each other for seven years now.”
“What did you study?”
Ah, here it comes. “Library sciences.”
John’s brown gaze widened slightly. “You’re a librarian?”
Most men reacted one of two ways when they discovered her profession. The first group would dismiss her as stuffy or boring, not bothering to learn what it was she did on a daily basis before dismissing it. The others immediately went into all of the fantasies they had about fucking the sexy librarian.
Needing the fortification, she drank down half the beer before replacing the sweating bottle on the bar with a dull thunk. “I actually manage the research library at the university. I help with the acquisition of rare and limited manuscripts that are used by the professors and graduate students.”
Boring, boring, boring.
“That sounds,” John shook his head, “that sounds like you’d have to be pretty damn smart to manage.”
Oh.
“I have a Masters degree, but I wouldn’t say I’m anything special. I just have a knack for finding books, conducting negotiations and brow-beating students.”
“I bet you do.” His wink didn’t seem the least bit doucy. It was a nice change.
In fact, Becka was having a hard time seeing anything bad about John. She turned in her seat to face him more directly. “What do you do?”
His deep chuckle sent a shiver straight through her body to her pussy. Whoa. “I’m a firefighter.”
The image of having sex against the side of a fire truck while he was wearing his coat, boots and nothing else immediately sprung to mind. “Really?”
“I see that look in your eye, Miss Librarian. You’re like the others with your sexy firefighter fantasies.”
Shit. The one thing that men did to her that drove her nuts, she’d done to him without missing a beat. “Well you have to admit, the uniform is kind of hot.”
“So are pencil skirts and glasses.” He finished his beer in three swallows. “You don’t happen to wear glasses do you?”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
He shrugged. “I’ll survive.”
“Do you happen to have the fire hat here?” She made a point of looking behind him and beneath his stool. “Cause I’d be all for it if you want to put it on.”
His smile made his brown eyes shine. “I knew you’d be more fun than the rest of them. While my boys over there enjoy playing up the job and get the girls riled up, I’d rather sit back and hang with the quiet ones.”
It was weird, the more they talked the more relaxed Becka grew. She’d never been great when it came to getting men to notice her, even less so when she was actually interested in someone talking to her. But John made it incredibly easy to open up and simply talk about things. By the time Rhianna stumbled over, two of John’s friends hanging off of her, Becka had completely forgotten about the bachelorette party.
“Hey girl, there you are!” Her black hair had been pulled from her up-do and now kissed the tops of her shoulders. “We’re moving the party.”
Becka threw John a quick look. “Where are we going?”
“Heading down to The Rev. The dance floor should be open.”
“We’re going with the girls to make sure no one gives them any trouble.” The closer of the two men punched John on the shoulder. “Coming?”
John leaned back in his seat, stretching the fabric of his T-shirt across his chest. “That depends.”
“On?”
“If my charming companion is going along.”
Not that Becka wanted to ditch Rhianna, but the last thing she wanted was to go to a dance club. It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, when John cocked an eyebrow, smirking. That was a challenge if she ever saw one.
Sliding from her stool, Becka smoothed down her black skirt and braced her hands on her hips. “I’m in.”
The walk down the street to The Rev was filled with shouts
, laughter and more than a few sexually charged comments. Becka walked toward the back of the group, surprised and more than a little pleased when John hung back with her. She’d been taken aback when he’d stood up back at the bar, being easily half a foot taller than she. Considering she was pushing five feet ten, it was the first time in a while that a man had made her feel small.
It was pretty fucking awesome.
“So do you dance?” He gently bumped her shoulder with his, but kept his gaze forward.
“Yeah, I’ve been known to shake my ass on occasion.” The minute the words left her and she’d realized what she’d said, Becka felt her face heat. “God, that makes me sound like a slut.”
John bumped her shoulder again, but this time he looked down at her and grinned. “Trust me when I say you don’t give off the slut vibe.”
“So, I’m a prude?”
“Hell no. Not wearing that skirt you’re not.”
Somehow she managed to redirect their conversation back to topics that didn’t involve her sexuality. She didn’t want to bore the man.
The music from the club echoed out onto the street and was only slightly dampened by the noise from the crowd waiting outside. The line stretched down the street and despite Rhianna’s begging of the bouncer, they were forced to wait there along with everyone else.
The groups had now merged and it was clear that several of the men were doing their damnedest to win over the girls. John was fare quieter and more than once she caught him shaking his head at the other’s antics.
“What brings you boys out tonight? Just a night off, or were you looking for some action?”
John held out his elbow and after only a slight hesitation on her part, Becka slipped her arm around it. “We had a bit of a rough week. We couldn’t stop one fire in time and we lost the house. Single mom and three kids are now without a place of their own. We figured we needed a night out to shake away some cobwebs.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to race into danger like that, the pressure they must feel to make sure everything turns out for the best. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Nope, we got them all. Even the dog and the hamsters.”
“That’s awesome.”
John nodded, but his smile had slipped. It felt wrong to Becka, seeing that spark or light and mischief drop away from him like that. While she’d only just met him, she got the impression that John was normally someone who would be in the middle of the action, even if he claimed otherwise.
The line shuffled forward bringing them in line with an alley. A group of people spilled out from a door down at the far end and they stumbled away, the red flash from their cigarettes bright in the dark. The rest of the group had moved up again, most having turned their backs on them, as if they’d become too boring to bother with.
It suited her just fine.
“You know, I’ve been told a bunch of times that I’m pretty boring.” Her last boyfriend had gone a bit further with his assessment before he’d dumped her, but she really didn’t care about that right then.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. And I have to admit I’m not nearly as adventurous as I once was.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, there was a time when I’d do some crazy stuff. Back in university in fact I’d gotten in trouble for having public sex.”
John stiffened, his arm holding her close pulled her a bit closer. “You don’t say? Where did you do it?”
“In the stacks at the library. I’d been trying to impress this guy I’d just met and let him talk me into doing it when the place was closed. I’d forgotten that some of the profs have special after-hours access.” The guy had lost interest in her after that.
“Ouch.”
“Yeah. Thankfully he didn’t report us and I was able to keep my job.” It would have been devastating if she’d been fired and potentially could have ruined her future career. “But I have to admit at the time it had been a major turn-on.”
God, why the hell was she saying this? She didn’t know John from anyone. He could be some crazy psycho who was looking to pick-up some unsuspecting chick in a bar. Unlikely, given that he’d come here with a group of men who were clearly professionals and that they’d all worn their Toronto Fire Services jackets.
The club was a hot and crowded as Becka suspected it would be. It had been years since she’d set foot in The Rev, leaving it behind once she’d started working full time. Sweat slicked and sparsely dressed bodies writhed together under spot lights on the pack dance floor. The music was so loud it thumped against her chest and made her nipples hard.
Without a word, Rhianna led the group to the middle of the floor and began to dance to the beat. Becka had never been a great dancer, but with John’s arm around her waist she found it easy to slip into the rhythm. His hands found her hips and together they grinded to the heavy bass line.
It had been a hot evening and she’d foregone wearing pantyhose, a fact she was thankful for as a bead of sweat ran down her thigh. Her skirt inched up dangerous high, exposing more of her than she would have normally done. John’s gaze slid down her body, pausing at her cleavage, her stomach, her thighs. He squeezed her hips and pulled her even closer.
At this distance she pulled in a deep breath and let the scent of his spicy aftershave and sweat win her over. Reaching up, she hooked her hands around his neck and swayed against him. The strength of his chest and arms cocooned her, blocking out the rest of the people. It was just the two of them, pressed together in the heat, letting the wave of primal need wash over them.
For the first time in a long while, Becka wanted to let go and be wild. She didn’t care about the consequences, didn’t mind that she didn’t know John beyond what she’d discovered tonight. All she knew was that she wanted this man, had managed to find him and now needed to negotiate her way into his bed, even if it was only for one night.
John leaned in and pressed his mouth to her ear. “You are so hot.”
She shivered. On impulse she licked the side of his neck, enjoying the taste of his sweat. John growled and his hold on her tightened.
“I wish we were in your library. I’d give your fantasy a better ending.”
“Don’t need the stacks.” She ran her nails along the back of his neck. “Other places I’d be willing to try.”
He bit the side of her neck gently. “Where?”
It was quite possible that John’s buddies made some smartass remarks as she took him by the hand. Becka didn’t think, didn’t pay any attention to Rhianna as she led John past the group toward the hallway that led to the bathrooms. All that mattered was John and needing to feel his body against hers.
The air in the alley way was a stark contrast to the humidity of the club. They were alone, though the sounds of music and laughter drifted from the club. Given how many people knew of this side exit, it was possible they would be interrupted at any moment. Still, it didn’t stop her from pulling John along behind her.
“You really want to do this?” His voice was strained and his grip on her hand was like stone. “I don’t want you to feel like I’ve talked you into doing something—”
Becka pushed him against the brick wall, threw her hands around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He was surprised, but it only took a few heartbeats before he sunk down into the contact. His mouth was hot and tasted of beer as he deepened the connection between them. The hand on her waist slide up her side until his fingers brushed the swell of her breast through her shirt.
He pulled back, but only a few inches. His short pants heated her face and made her body tingle. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you sitting at the bar.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I figured you’d have decked me.”
“Probably would have.” She kissed him again.
A soft breeze blew down the alley, cooling her skin. The skin of her thighs was now covered in goosebumps, especially as John
ran a finger along the top of her muscle, teasing her with the promise of something wonderful. “Becka?”
“Yes?”
“I know we only met, but—”
“Oh yes.”
He did pull back then, a soft frown tugging the corners of his lips. “Are you sure?”
“Do you have a condom?”
“Back pocket.”
“Then I’m sure.”
Instead of jumping her the second she’d given her permission, John pressed his head back against the bricks. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“You’re going to hate it.”
“Are you married?”
“No!”
“Girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Boyfriend?”
“God no. Not that there’s anything wrong—”
“Then what?” Because unless he had a venereal disease or was an alien, Becka doubted there was anything that would stop her from wanting to let him fuck her.
John chuckled. “When you told me you were a librarian, I totally got hard.”
Oh. “That’s all?”
“What do you mean, that’s all? I gave you a hard time about having a firefighter fantasy.”
“Well, John, I have to say I am a bit disappointed.”
The frown was back. “Why?”
“I hear you have some overdue books and as a responsible librarian I need to collect your late fees.”
It was a game she’d played a few times with her previous boyfriends, but this time there was something different about it. The way he looked at her as he spun them around so it was Becka whose back was against the bricks, was different. How he carefully dropped to his knees and slid his hands up the sides of her thighs until they disappeared beneath her skirt. The look of pure, unrepressed lust on his face as he hooked his thumbs around the top of her panties and tugged them down her legs.
“I want to taste you.”
Becka had been fortunate enough to have had lovers in the past willing to go down on her, but it was normally a way to simply get her off before sex. It had always felt like a bit of an obligation, not like now. John looked up at her and smiled before he pushed her skirt up and exposed her pussy to the night.
Taste Test Page 1