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He placed the drinks on the table and slipped into the booth. ‘Sam beat it already?’ he asked, deciding to scope the situation out before his cock got in the way.
‘Afraid so,’ she murmured, not looking all that heartbroken.
His knee nudged her leg under the table and she blinked, but didn’t shift back. He stretched out, letting his calf slide past hers. She still didn’t budge.
Interesting.
‘So how long have you known Sam?’ he asked—because he didn’t plan to get played, any more than he planned to get led around by his cock.
She glanced down, the powder on her lids glittering in the flicker of light from the candle, then reached for her glass. She caressed the stem between her thumb and forefinger and he felt the phantom stroke on his cock—which was getting harder by the second.
‘Not long.’ She took a sip of the fruity cocktail.
His gaze snagged on the sheen of moisture on her lips as she lowered the glass and those indigo eyes met his. She lifted the strawberry off the side of the glass, let her tongue swirl around the tip, then bit off the end with even white teeth.
A shot of adrenaline kicked him full in the crotch.
Jesus, who is this woman, the cock whisperer?
He shifted in his seat to ease the pressure on his fly. ‘That’s weird, I thought Sam said you were old buddies?’
Twin flags of colour hit her cheeks, but her gaze remained focussed and direct.
A happy accident, my butt.
She trapped her bottom lip under her teeth, before releasing it to say, ‘When did you figure it out?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Only if you’re not interested?’
He chuckled, the surge of excitement making him light-headed. Goddamn, she was gorgeous—and his, if he wanted her. No mess, no guilt, no fuss and no need to worry about remembering her name, because he doubted he’d ever be able to forget it. He might have to kiss Sam after all.
He sat up, trapping her knees between his thighs. ‘Tally, if I was any more interested I’d have passed out from the loss of blood to my brain.’
She laughed, a full, throaty sound that settled in his lap like melted honey. ‘I’m sorry for the subterfuge, but Sam said you prefer to do the chasing.’
He stroked a finger down her cheek, let it linger under her chin. ‘Sam doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does.’
Her smile took on a wicked tilt. ‘Clearly.’
Holding her chin, he tugged her towards him until their lips were only a hair’s-breadth apart. And drew in a lungful of her scent—citrus and spice. She smelled glorious, like freshly squeezed OJ and original sin, the perfect aphrodisiac for a Catholic kid who’d grown up working in his dad’s grocery store. Saliva collected in his mouth at the thought of tasting the rest of her. ‘So exactly what did Sam tell you about me?’ he asked, forcing himself to slow down for a second.
Sam had always had a screwy sense of humour. And the guy had been Della’s friend before he’d been Brent’s. Brent didn’t want to take any chances that this was another one of Sam’s jokes—one that he was about to become the butt of. Because the last time Sam had set him up on a date, it had been with a transvestite. Luckily Marilyn had been in on the joke too, or things could have gotten pretty awkward when Brent had spotted her Adam’s apple about two seconds after meeting her.
‘Sam said that you’re a hard-ass with women,’ Tally replied. ‘Who doesn’t do relationships.’
‘Sam said that?’ Brent ignored the spike of irritation. Why should he care what Sam had told her? After all, it was the god’s honest truth. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. Not anymore.
‘Don’t worry, as far as I’m concerned a hard-ass is exactly what I’m looking for. That and a huge...’ Her gaze dipped suggestively. ‘Sam seemed to think you would meet both those criteria.’
Jesus. He drew back a little. Sam had told her about Della’s photo? He’d always known the guy had probably seen it. When your ex put a picture of your junk on Facebook to humiliate you, you had to assume the worst, but he’d always figured Sam had more class than to mention it to anyone.
‘I’m sorry, have I shocked you?’ she said with deceptive innocence.
She didn’t look a bit sorry, and she kind of had shocked him, but he wasn’t about to let her know it. There were rules to this game, and the first rule was never show a weakness. ‘I don’t shock that easy.’
‘That’s good, because Sam told me something else...’ She paused to twirl her fingertip in the daiquiri.
