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"I always endeavor to call it as I see it," I murmur.And what I see is a woman who’s so appealing that I can’t let her walk away from me without getting to know her better.
"Shall we?" I hold out my hand, indicating the booth in the far corner of the bar.
She looks at it, then at me.
"And if I refuse?"
"You know you don’t want to."
"Don’t I?" She tips up her chin, and juts out her lower lip. Fuck, if I don’t want to bend over and bite down on her mouth right now.
I tilt my head. She glowers at me, then blows out a breath. "Fine, butyou’llfollow me." She pivots and marches off to the booth. I follow her, getting a good eyeful of her sweet, pear-shaped butt poured into skin-tight jeans.
My pants feel tighter by the second, and I reach down and adjust myself. How the hell am I going to sit opposite her when all I can think of is throwing her on the table, shoving her thighs open, and feasting on the delicious flesh between her legs? The blood drains to my groin. Every muscle in my body tenses. I manage to tear my gaze off of her, and reach the booth to slide in opposite her. Uncomfortable as fuck, given my tightened pants, but what-fucking-ever.
A waiter instantly materializes.
"Whiskey, on the rocks," I order.
“Would you like to order food?” he asks.
“Get us the drinks first.”
When he leaves, she arches an eyebrow at me. “Thought you didn’t want me to drink anymore."
"That’s not for you; that’s for me." I smirk.
She scowls. "How very chauvinistic of you to think I’m going to sit here and watch you drink and not drink myself."
"I haven’t had a drink all evening. You, on the other hand, have been chugging down tequila like the bar is going to run out of it."
"Been watching me all evening, have you?" she asks lightly.
"I have, actually, from the moment I walked into the bar," I say without hesitation.
She blinks. "That’s very honest of you."
"I already told you, I don’t believe in wasting words."
"Yet, here you are." She places her elbows on the table, locks her fingers together, and rests her chin on them.
"Oh, this is not a waste of either of our time, since we both know where this is headed."
She glances away. I can practically hear the wheels spinning in her head. She stays that way for a few more seconds, then turns to me. "You’re right, I want to fuck you."
"You’re wrong." I nod toward the bartender who places the whiskey in front of me and the water in front of her, then leaves. I take a sip of the whiskey. "Iam going to fuckyou."
She laughs. "Awfully confident, aren’t you?"
"Only when I know the odds are in my favor."
"Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself?"
"Am I?" I tap my finger against my glass.
Her gaze narrows. Once more, she seems angry... At me? At herself? Then, just like that, it seems to drain away from her face. "No, you’re not."
The tension fades from my shoulders. Fuck me. Had I been that unsure of myself? At first. I’ve never had to proposition a woman before. Most of them can’t wait to jump into bed with me. All I have to do is crook a finger and they’ll come running. This woman, though, is making me work for it, and fuck, if it isn’t increasing the anticipation of where this evening’s going to end.
