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Speaking of Jenny… She grows tired of my silent stare down with the blonde stranger.
“I’m Jenny Cliffs,” she says eagerly, knocking me sideways when she tries to wedge herself between me and the bar.
The mystery guy catches me before I completely fall off the stool, and he nods his head toward one of his friends as they walk up. The dark-haired guy, whose arms are fully sleeved with tattoos, flashes a breathtaking smile at Jenny, and she practically dissolves.
“Now that she’s distracted,” the blonde Adonis says, drawing my attention back to him and his lips that are still curled up in that devilish smile, “how about you tell me your name.” It’s not a request or a question; it’s simply a sexy command.
Breathe. How the hell do I breathe?
“Roslyn,” I whisper, silently cursing my voice for failing me.
His grin only grows, and I swear he’s laughing at me internally, though he has the grace not to do it aloud.
“You’re a little sweet, aren’t you, Roslyn?” he drawls, licking his lips while shamelessly looking me up and down once again.
Sweet? Is sweet good or bad?
The bartender hands him a glass that has dark liquid in it, but the blonde masterpiece takes it without looking away from me. I thought he ordered a round of shots. Or did he order something else?
When he tilts the glass to sip from it, all of my attention turns to his mouth again—his tempting, delicious mouth.
“Keep looking at my mouth like that, and I might just have a taste to be sure you’re as sweet as I think you are,” he brazenly states, forcing my eyes to snap up and meet his mocking gaze.
I’m not sure if he’s cocky or confident, but whatever it is, it’s definitely appealing.
No words will form. Everything I try to say merely catches in my throat as he watches me with unhidden amusement.
He leans forward, and my… everything goes crazy. I feel as though he has disassembled my body and exchanged my veins with electrical wires. When his nose gets close to my hair, I clutch the bar and the stool I’m on to keep from falling again.
He inhales deeply, and his friend behind me laughs. I feel as though I should be embarrassed, but I’m too entranced to react.
“I was right,” the blonde-haired word-stealer says as he leans back up, a small smirk on his lips. “Definitely sweet.”
“Come on, man,” the tattooed guy who has left Jenny in a puddle says to the guy who is still staring at me. “We have work to discuss.”
That guy walks off, but my blonde-haired captor continues to hold my gaze. “Probably for the best, love. You’re too sweet for an animal like me.”
He winks at me, further driving my heart to a hellacious frenzy, and he leans back just as another guy walks up and claps him on the shoulder.
“Thad,” a new guy with dark hair says, “didn’t know you were back in town.”
Thad. So Mr. Sex-in-Jeans has a name.
Thad keeps my gaze, that damn cocky grin still on his face. He definitely knows how he affects women.
“Oh, I’m back. We all are. And we’re going to be in Pine Shore for a while.”
Yep. I’m screwed. He’s living here?
“See you around, sweet girl,” he tells me before winking and walking off.
One word. I said one damn word—my name. And I barely got that out. I’m the biggest idiot ever.
“We need to go to their table,” Jenny gushes, clutching my arm.
I shiver, but I look around, letting my eyes land on Thad as he slides into a large booth at the back where the gang of models have all assembled. Seriously, how do that many hot-as-hell people know each other?
