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He reached up, moving a strand of hair that had fallen in front of my face, and tucking it behind my ear. The soft touch of his hand sent shots of heat across my cheek. His hand paused for a moment, then cupped my face as his thumb skimmed across my lips.
“I’d like to see you, too.”
A tiny gasp escaped my lips, like an invitation for more. He took a step toward me, until I could feel the heat between us overcome the warmth of the shower. I reach up, placing the palm of my hand against his rock hard chest, and let my fingers carefully stroke the small patch of chest hair that lay between his pecs. Darian’s breath sucked in sharp. The thrill of the ride and my near-death experience still had me vibrating with adrenaline. I wanted nothing more at that moment than for him to take me in those arms. In this shower. Right. Now.
“Blake!” Ali’s voice called from the locker rooms, making me jump. “Are you almost ready? Let’s lock up and go for drinks.”
I dropped my arm from Darian’s chest and he let go of me. My face still felt warm from his touch. His gaze was still locked onto mine. I could feel my chest rising and falling with each breath, and my heartbeat was thundering in my ears.
“I’ll see you later,” Darian whispered, then leaned forward and pecked me on the cheek, before turning off his shower and leaving the room.
I stood there speechless, my hand instantly flying to my cheek where I could still feel his lips. He was such a gentleman. I dropped my hand to the taps and shut off my shower. Who was I kidding, the most we’d have was tonight. But at least that was something to look forward to.
“Are you coming?” Ali called out again.
“Soon,” I replied, with a smile on my lips.
THREE
Cher recommended we have drinks back at the boy’s hotel bar. It was better for us girls not to be seen on the town strip, where we were likely to get harassed by fellow cohorts in the service industry. Resort towns were beautiful places to visit, and even more gorgeous when you got to wake up in them every day. But sometimes locals frowned on hooking up with tourists. Hotel bars gave off the aura of a good time where the ones downtown, regularly visited by townies had more of a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere.
I stopped quickly at home where I dried my hair, put on a touch of makeup and dressed to impress. If I was going to have a chance at one night with Darian Hunter, I was going to leave my mark on him. That impression would be one of black lace undies, paired with a white lace mini skirt and flowing blouse. The latter was picked to partially hide my rope burns, but also because I loved how it made me feel: flowing and free. Plus the shoulders were bare, which made me feel sexy. The former was so that I could show off my legs.
Cher and Ali were already at the bar when I arrived. When I left the office they promised to save me a seat, but when I spotted them at a long table in the middle of the bar, I frowned. Both girls were sitting on either side of Darian, who sat at the head of the table, with three guys flanking either side. The opposite end of the table had one chair, empty, waiting for me. At least John was there—someone I could have a half-assed conversation with.
“Blake,” Cher called out, holding her cosmopolitan high in the air, waving as the drink trickled onto the boy next to her. “Over here, hon; we saved you a seat!”
My gaze met Darian’s, his eyes filled with pleasure as he surveyed my outfit. Maybe I was kidding myself when I thought he was interested—he was probably pleased enough now with two beautiful girls on each side. I turned away and headed for the bar, where I ordered a pint of dark ale. Cosmopolitans were for Cher, Black Russians for Ali, and dark ale was my drink of choice; I used to brew it in high school with my dad, and he taught me to be picky when it came to taste.
I turned back to the group and leaned against the bar. What kind of drink would Darian be? Was he an import—dark and creamy as if the wheat was roasted. Or was he something closer to home—brewed with hints of a malty sweetness—reliable and trustworthy from the first batch. He turned my way, catching me watching him, and nodded. I raised my drink in hand and then made my way to the empty seat next to John.
The guys were all telling tales of past work trips they’d been on, zip lining in California, fishing in northern Canada. It wasn’t until this last year that Darian realized they’d never explored any adventures closer to home.
A round of shooters showed up at the table. I looked around and Darian smiled at me from across the table like kingpin surrounded by his people. I slid my shooter to John. I wasn’t a shooter kind of girl. But when I looked up and caught Darian watching me, his brows were pushed together. Why did he care?
“So where is home?” I turned to John, trying to avoid eye contact with Darian. Since I entered the bar Darian’s dark eyes felt like they were burning a hole into me.
“Vancouver,” John said. “You ever been?”
“No,” I said. “I’m guilty of not traveling a lot.”
“Such a shame,” John said, putting down his beer and leaning in close. “You should come sometime. I’d show you around. There’s the ocean, the city. Well heck, my place…” His mouth lifted in a half-smile, and I couldn’t help but giggle at his attempt at a come on.
Darian cleared his voice from the other end of the table. “I’m sure Blake has better things than to see your sorry ass bedroom, John. Don’t you still live with your momma?”
The table burst into laughter as John’s cheeks grew red. I frowned and I glanced in Darian’s direction. He wasn’t laughing. In fact he was staring at me with a fierce intensity, his eyes filled with want and hunger. He was jealous. Good. I didn’t like being ignored either.
“For the last time,” John said through gritted teeth, “she lives with me.”
“Well, I think that’s just amazing,” Cher said leaning forward and raising her glass to John. “If only more boys were as sweet as you.”
“Cheers to that,” I said, raising my beer. Darian gave me an odd look. I licked my lips in his direction before taking a sip. Darian shifted in his seat, still watching me.
“I really am sorry about that,” John said, pointing to my rope burn as it exposed itself from under my sleeve when I put my drink down. “It was an accident. We just got carried away. Darian said I was the one that pushed you out of the raft.”
“Really?” I withdrew my arm from the table, placing it in my lap. “How could he tell with all the chaos?”
“He is always paying attention to what’s going on,” John continued. “That guy never misses a beat. That’s how he built his company from nothing to a multi-million dollar corporation; he’s always
