“I’ll be right back,” I said, scooting out of the booth.
I made my way over to the bar, feeling eyes watching me, charting my progress.Let them look, I thought, lifting my chin. I wouldn’t have worn a skintight dress and sky-high fuck-me Jimmy Choos if I didn’t like the attention.
I sidled up to the bar, ready to order the shots, when a deep voice from behind me said, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
I recognized that voice. It sent tingles down my spine, goose bumps racing over my skin. And yet, I couldn’t quite place it. That was until I spun and came face-to-face—more like face-to-chin—with the owner.Target Guy.
“Target Guy.” He frowned, making me realize I’d said the last part aloud.
“Two shots of Grey Goose, please,” I said to the bartender when he approached.
Target Guy’s slow perusal of my body had my skin heating everywhere his eyes lingered—my legs, my hips, my breasts. “Does the fact that you just ordered two shots mean you’re not pregnant?”
I rolled my eyes, loving the fact that I’d made an impression on him. But why did he have to remember me for buying pregnancy tests? “I told you—they were for a friend.”
“Mm-hmm. ‘A friend,’” he said, complete with air quotes.
“No, really,” I said, not entirely sure why I felt the need to defend myself. “My friendis pregnant.”
“Mazel tov.” He lifted his glass and took a sip. Whiskey, no doubt, judging from the amber color of the liquid. A man of expensive taste, if the cut and material of his suit were any indication.
Damn. He looks even better than I remember.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.
“I’ve already taken matters into my own hands,” I said, after thanking the bartender.
I assumed Target Guy would understand my double meaning, and I was right. Because recognition soon lit his gaze.
He leaned in, close enough for me to smell his delicious cologne. Close enough for his breath to tickle my ear when he said, “How was it—the vibrator?”
“Pretty good, actually. Not as good as some of my top-of-the-line models, mind you. But still…an impressive little toy.”
“Sounds like you’ve been…busy.” His voice was gruff when he spoke, and I reveled in the effect I had on him, even if he tried to hide it behind a wolfish grin. “Though I imagine a woman like you doesn’t want for company.”
“No.” I shook my head, accepting his compliment. “Lately, it’s not quantity of available options, but rather quality, that I lack.”
“Is that so?” He leaned even closer, and my heart skipped a beat. Legit—straight-up skipped.
What the hell?
“Unable to find quality dick. Now that is a problem.” The corner of his mouth curled just before he downed one of my shots.
I’d forgotten what a filthy mouth he had, and my body flooded with warmth.I wanted him. I wanted him more than I’d wanted anyone in a long time. And while that thought should’ve scared me, one word kept running through my mind, playing on repeat:need. Need. Need.
