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I drank from my glass and tried to focus on the conversation, because he seemed to be really into me, finding my ballet career interesting rather than quizzical. We shared a few laughs, got along pretty well, and I thought my reintroduction to the dating world wasn’t bad. But I couldn’t imagine telling this guy what had happened to me six weeks ago. I couldn’t imagine telling anyone that, even if I were in a serious relationship. I wasn’t sure why.
A dark energy filled the room, like something dangerous was about to happen. I could feel the heavy stare on my face, just couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. The guy kept talking, but I pulled away from the conversation to locate the source of my unease.
That was when I saw him.
He stood at the edge of the bar with his body facing me. He didn’t have a drink, so he seemed to be waiting for the bartender to finish making his cocktail, probably something with vodka. He was in a gray shirt, the sleeves tight on his biceps and triceps, and he wore black jeans. He stared at me without blinking, his blue eyes beautiful and terrifying.
That was when I withdrew from the conversation entirely. This man was no longer interesting to me at all. It didn’t matter how nice he was. It didn’t matter that he seemed completely harmless. Seeing Heath stirred a million emotions inside my chest, making me feel unbridled lust, overwhelming longing. Memories of our previous kisses came back to me, the feeling of his hard shaft between my legs. He was a flavor of man I had never tasted before, and now that I had the best, it was hard to settle for anyone else.
When the bartender handed him his drink, he held it around the top of the glass and headed my way, right for my table with clear intentions.
My date kept talking. “We’re right next door to the Tuscan Rose, so we always have to compete with this chain that’s been around for decades…”
“I’m sorry, but could you excuse me?” I thought it would be better if I got rid of him before Heath arrived and scared the shit out of him.
He stared at me quizzically, like he had no idea what he did wrong. “Did I say something…?”
Heath reached the table and set his glass down, marking his territory in silence.
The guy looked up at him, and that was all it took for him to vacate the seat. “Nice talking to you.” He grabbed his drink and left, and once he was out of my line of sight, I didn’t think about him again.
Heath took a seat and stared at me. He didn’t apologize for interfering with my date, probably because he knew I wasn’t enjoying it anyway. Resting his thick arms on the table, he watched me with an intense expression, his diamond skull ring on his right hand. It was so flawless that it illuminated the area, refracting tiny particles of light.
Now that my eyes were on him, I couldn’t look at anything else, think about anything else. My pulse quickened in my neck, and I discreetly crossed my legs because the overwhelming need to change my position came over me. I was suddenly both uncomfortable and so comfortable at the same time. It was refreshing to be with a man without having to talk. He could handle silence, feel my emotions rather than question me about them.
After what felt like minutes, he spoke in his sexy, deep voice. “I took care of it.”
Without needing to question him, I knew exactly what he referred to. “Thank you.” The second I saw him, my eyes had latched on his. Even now, I didn’t look away. Now that this man was in the room, I didn’t care about anyone else. Without thinking twice about it, my hand moved to his, and I locked our fingers together.
He didn’t react or look down at our joined hands. He kept his eyes on me, staring at me like there was no other woman in the room who deserved his attention…except me. He gave me a gentle squeeze in return.
I knew I didn’t want to go home with anyone else in that bar—or in the whole world, actually. When I wasn’t around him, I could forget about him, but the second we breathed the same air, I was lost. My emotions took over, my blinding need consumed me. My relationship with him was so complicated, because a part of me still resented him for what he did to me, but I wanted him still…wanted him so much.
I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. His hands were so big that a single one could cover both of mine at the same time. I kissed each knuckle, physically thanking him for what he had done for me.
