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Arrogant, bold, and cocky. The guy staring back at me was everything I steered clear of when it came to a quick hookup. I needed reliable, trustworthy, and discreet.
Looking away, I took another sip of my beer. “Sit wherever you like.”
“Ahh. I see.”
When he didn’t add anything to that, I took the bait. “See what?”
Out of the corner of my eye, that cocky half-smile still on his face, the guy shrugged. “Two theories. You’re either into playing hard to get, or…”
Though every instinct told me not to engage, I looked his way. When his eyes locked on mine, I realized my mistake. “Or?”
“Or you’re the aggressor.”
“The what?”
“The guy who goes after what he wants, not the one being pursued.”
I snorted and went back to pretending to watch the news, but then the guy leaned in, invading my space once again.
“So? Which is it?”
“Maybe it’s neither.”
“Or maybe you’re lying.” He dropped his voice down low. “Want me to go back to the end of the bar?”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that left my throat, because as unwanted as the attention was, you almost had to give it up for the guy’s persistence. If I wasn’t waiting for someone, I may have even found him charming.
“Another,” I said to the bartender, holding up my empty bottle. Then I glanced over my shoulder, looking once again for the familiar man I was here for, but when he still hadn’t arrived, I turned my body so I casually faced the man practically begging for my attention.
This time, I let my gaze roam over him, taking in the tight fit of his dark jeans and the way the olive-green t-shirt he wore was practically a second skin over his muscled build. He was devastating in that heartbreaker-but-you’ll-love-every-second-of-it way, and damn if my cock didn’t take notice.
“Oh please, feel free. Should I stand up?” He went to stand, but I shot my hand out, pushing against his chest so he stayed right where he was. His body beneath my fingertips was nothing but hard muscle, and I licked my lips before I could stop myself. Fuck, he was tempting.
When the bartender pushed another beer my way, I jerked my hand back and reached for the bottle.
“You don’t say much, do you?”
“Not here to talk.”
“No?” He got to his feet this time, kicking the stool away. “I can get on board with that.”
I sighed, half annoyed and half turned on. I knew which side would win in the end. “Look, I appreciate the attention, but I’ve got plans and they’re not with you.”
The guy grabbed his chest like he’d been shot. “Ouch. Brutal.”
“Better not to waste your time.”
“Ah-huh. So where’s your date?”
My jaw twitched. “Late.”
“Sounds like that’s more of a waste of time to me. I’d never make you wait.” He leaned in, his words practically a whisper. “I’d come every time you told me to.”
Shiiit. I swallowed hard, my cock kicking up a protest against my stubborn refusal. It would be so easy to give in. To grab the back of his head, force him to his knees, and shut that mouth of his. I could feel my resolve crumbling as I breathed in his heady cologne, and I was two seconds away from throwing caution to the wind when I looked up and saw the man I’d been waiting for entering the bar.
“You make an enticing offer,” I said, and when I pulled away, I smirked. “But my date just walked in.” I tossed a couple of bills on the bar top and grabbed my jacket, but before I walked away, the guy reached for my arm.
“Just my luck.” For some reason, there was still a grin playing on his lips, like somehow he still thought he’d have me. “By the way, you never told me your name.”
“No, I didn’t.” I shot him a wink, and as I walked off, called over my shoulder, “You have a good night.”
2 Mateo Morgan
THAT GUY WAS all wrong for Mr. Smooth over there. He was too…bland, like one of those guys you just knew would be the most boring lay of your life.
After tossing back the last of my beer, I motioned for another and watched the happy couple take up a spot in one of the back corner booths and proceed to make what looked like awkward small talk. Not sure why they bothered when it was clear it was all a hookup, but maybe one or both needed the extra liquid courage.
Again, I found my eyes roaming over the tall, dark-haired drink of water who’d blown me off even though it’d been obvious he hadn’t wanted to. One of those do-it-out-of-obligation types, though it certainly didn’t seem like he was getting the better end of the deal with those standards.
What the hell does he see in that guy? Not that I cared; I was just genuinely curious at this point how Smooth would manage to get it up with someone like that.
