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Fuuuucccccck. I know she’s being playful, but those words from those pretty, plump lips would sound even sweeter if they were wrapped around my throbbing cock. There goes being a gentleman.
She knows that I’m a dominant. She’s pushing that button on purpose, and those words vibrate in my core, making my already-hard dick pulse.
I go back to my seat at the bar. Nyx is working tonight, and we shoot the shit. Bartending at The Tipsy Llama bar is their second job when they’re not pulling shifts at Protocol. More than once they catch me watching Adi, and raise their eyebrows in question.
“Can it be? There’s one woman in the great state of Minnesota you haven’t banged yet?” Their shoulders shake with laughter, causing their long, straight, brightly colored hair to fall forward. “Is that longing I see on your face, Thor?”
Maybe.
“They almost always fall in your lap.”
Precisely how I like it, especially if their mouths are open.
In truth, the fact she hasn’t abandoned her friends and downed a gallon of water, ready to kneel at my feet only makes me want her more. I like the chase.
“Has the hunter finally become the prey?” Nyx laughs.
I tip my beer their direction. “I haven’t slept with you.”
“That’s because I know you too well.”
Ouch.
They wipe down the bar with a cloth. “We both know I’m not a one-night-stand kind of person. I’m waiting for my Disney prince to appear. Or princess.”
“I could be a Disney prince.”
They snort. “Sure. Like, a start-of-the-movie Disney prince. Aladdin before he meets Jasmine, Flynn Rider—” They open their mouth to add another name to the list but I hold up my hand.
“Don’t. If you say I’m like Gaston, I’ll cry.”
They shrug, amusement dancing in their eyes. “If the shoe fits.”
So I like women, and women like me. Big deal. As long as I’m up front with what I want from a sexual encounter, I don’t see what the problem is.
Nyx jerks their chin in Addison’s direction. “Just don’t play “what’s your number?” with Red over there.”
“You don’t think she’s played the field?”
Another shrug. “She might have. I have no idea. But I don’t know a single person in the whole world who has played the field more than you have, my friend. I’m concernedyournumber might scare her off. She seems kinda... wholesome.” They hold their hands up. “No judgment. Enjoying sex is healthy, and to my knowledge you haven’t left a trail of broken hearts in your wake. Safe, sane, and consensual, right?”
I nod, but their words slither under my skin, prickling at something deep inside that I don’t want to give a name to. Mom always wants me to “find a nice girl and settle down.” It’s hard to tell her that I had one once, and that didn’t go quite to plan, so I just grit my teeth, nod and smile, and wither a little inside.
Nyx leans forward, resting their forearms on the edge of the bar. “Huh. She’s not abandoning her friends and falling at your feet like the rest of them do. That’s gotta be bugging the shit out of you, right?”
When Addison refills her margarita glass from the fresh jug one of the other bartenders placed on their table, my stomach sinks.
“Damn. No sex for you.” Nyx rolls their lips, very clearly trying not to laugh at me. I thought Addison and I connected, I thought for sure I was getting laid tonight. She responded to my kiss, to my request not to drink more alcohol if she wanted more...
Sighing, I shake my head. I guess I misjudged the situation... until there’s a warm hand on the small of my back, and the scent of strawberries in my nostrils. “I’m here with my girlfriends, lover boy. If you think I’m deserting my squad for some—albeit fine—dick, you don’t know the first thing about me. My girls will always come first.”
I think I just came in my boxers. There’s literally nothing more attractive to me than a strong, independent woman who doesn’t fold on her ideals for a pretty face.
And I happen to have a fairly pretty face. I’d like to think if Addison was going to fold on her ideals, it’d be for my dimples. I’m told they’re adorable.
She presents me with her cell number on a piece of paper, with a heart over the I in her name. “I’m free tomorrow, we can have a chat before...” Her gaze skims down the front of my body. The mere fact she wants to meet before wemeetmakes me think she’s kinky. Or maybe one of her friends told her that’s generally what happens in the lifestyle. Or at least with me. Women talk.
Tapping the paper in the palm of my hand I meet her gray eyes. “You want to chat about...?”
