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The ultimate power trip.
Though, she always chose one. The second phase of the night was where she really got her fix. Where the high was so good, it eclipsed the fear living under her skin the other twenty-three hours of the day.
“Here you go, gorgeous,” Rich said, setting the drink in front of her.
“Thanks,” she handed over a twenty, then took a small sip. Legs crossed, she used the bar for leverage and spun on the stool. Time to identify her next conquest.
As she perused the dimly lit lounge, her gaze landed on a table of giggling women, and for one second, her heart ceased to beat.
It’s not her.
Chloe lifted her glass and gulped down a mouthful of mostly vodka. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Rich was trying to get her hammered. Damn, that was a close call. For a hot second, she’d thought she’d recognized one of the giddy women laughing with her girlfriends. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t her old high school peer, but damn, what a wakeup. A little reminder to be careful and not get arrogant.
She’d die if she ran into anyone who knew her. The woman sitting on the barstool in the tight as hell dress wearing Chloe’s skin was not the Chloe anyone knew. Hell, she didn’t even know herself anymore. Never before had she dressed up to attract men. She’d dated some, but was never focused on hooking up or sex. Before her world had imploded, she wouldn’t have accepted a million dollars to seek out a different man or men every week.
But now? Now it had become an obsession. If anyone who knew her witnessed her in action, they’d think aliens invaded had her body.
She’d found that trying to psychoanalyze herself only led to increased anxiety, guilt, and shame, so she’d given up and did what she had to do to keep from losing her sanity completely.
After another healthy sip, Chloe continued her inspection of the room. A few potential candidates caught her eye and sparked a bit of interest. Just as she was about to take a second gander at a sandy-haired business man chatting with two similarly dressed guys, she locked gazes with a set of piercing blue eyes.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she had to glance away. Wow. The intensity of that gaze nearly burned her. She peeked again, this time out of the corner of her eye while directing her head away from him.
He hadn’t so much as twitched. Those two blue orbs zeroed straight in on her. She swore lasers shot from them, warming her skin to the point of flushed. Swallowing another sizable mouthful, she faced the bar once again. The view wasn’t as good, but at least she could stealthily spy on him through the mirror without him being aware.
The man was downright delicious. Not only did he have eyes that made her swoon, but he filled out that dress shirt with some serious muscle. He’d skipped a tie, or had already taken it off, and the top button of his crisply pressed gray shirt was open as though he’d shed his professional persona and was ready to kick back for the night. He wasn’t a regular, she was there often enough to know the usual crowd. Something about the man was familiar, but she was near ninety-five percent certain she’d never seen him before, which was a requirement for her one-offs, but without knowing a damn thing about the man, she could sense the raw visceral power radiating from him.
Which made him an automatic no. Too risky. That kind of animal would never allow her the control she required. And she couldn’t even fathom being alone in a room with a man who wouldn’t give her control, let alone naked with one who possessed five times the strength she did.
Unable to redirect herself, she continued to trail her gaze upward over his thick neck. Then came the five o-clock shadow that looked just scratchy enough to elicit a round of shivers as it brushed against naked skin. That dark stubble covered a strong jaw and framed firm, smooth lips. And finally, back to those blue eyes that were…staring straight into hers in the mirror.
Shit!
He’d known she was eye-fucking him all along. His face seemed too severe for a true smile, but one corner of his mouth twitched, letting her know he was at least somewhat amused by the situation.
Stuck like a deer caught in high beams, she was unable to tear her focus away. Even when he rose, keeping eye contact through the mirror, and ambled his way toward the bar.
Shit. Double shit.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention and the temperature in the bar shot up by at least ten degrees. Chloe tugged at the suddenly constricting neckline of her dress. Didn’t the place have some kind of air circulation? And what was with her deodorant? Clearly it wasn’t made for this woman.
