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The doors to the club seem huge as I come up the small staircase, there’s a window there, but I can’t see anything through it. I reach for the door handle, but it swings open as my fingers graze the cold metal. I stumble back a step, but before my body can decide if it is going to mutiny, resulting in me falling on my ass, an arm wraps around my waist. I’m hauled forward with enough force I’m pretty sure my hair does a Beyoncé music video impersonation.
My eyes snap up to the man who now has me pressed up against him, which means my breasts are also pillowed against his chest. When I look up, I’m met with blue eyes which hold a seriousness tinted with concern. Are those fireworks? New Year’s Eve was last week so I don’t know why fireworks would be going off right now.
Wow. I don’t know who he is, but he is everything I want in a man and more. He’s tall and broad with a wholedon’t fuck with meattitude coming off him in waves, but he’s not some muscle-bound meathead. He has a beanie on, and I can see a peek-a-boo of a tattoo above his collar, just enough to tease me. Having my body pressed against his only makes it more obvious he has something extra to hold on to.
Or to wrap my legs around.
“Thank you,” my voice comes out breathless.
“Don’t thank me, Little Bit, I should have had the door open a second earlier, then you wouldn’t have stumbled at all.” His eyes are intense as he looks down at me, his voice is like sandpaper, but it brushes against me like a feather. “Although,” he smirks, “I can’t hate the outcome. What’s your name?”
“Willow.” Am I panting right now? What is happening?
The man, who still hasn’t let go of me even a little, smiles and it transforms his entire face. What was stoic and serious a moment ago is now almost boyish, but like a serious roguish boyishness which is sexy as fuck. He rumbles, “I’m Lincoln.”
“Um,” tumbles out of my mouth awkwardly like I’m not eye-fucking him right here in the doorway of a club I’m supposed to be meeting a date at. Oh shit. Right. I have a date. I shake my head a little trying to clear the cobwebs which now have migrated from my vagina to my brain, apparently. This man steadies me and then steps back, letting me in. The room around me looks like a parlor in a Victorian home and it’s much quieter than I would think it would be for an entrance of a club. “I have a date,” I blurt out like a complete fucking moron.
Lincoln’s face transforms, the sweet boyish qualities I saw a moment before vanishing to give way to something close to disappointment. It looks like his entire body tightens with my blunder as his jaw ticks. It’s enough to make my nipples hard, but it’s the feral look in his eyes which has me squeezing my thighs together.
Pointing over to a Dutch door to the side he says, “Coat check is right there, Willow.”
I drop my eyes to the floor and fight the tears which want to well up inside me. I know I don’t owe this man anything, but the idea of him being disappointed in me does not do good things to me. It makes me want to curl up in a ball and pull some big fluffy blanket over my body.
“Thanks,” I squeak before scurrying over to the coat check.
The woman there gives me a soft smile and a ticket before telling me about the knock I need to use to get into the main part of the club. I move mostly on autopilot because I can still feel Lincoln’s eyes on me with every step and it makes me feel like a newborn fucking deer, all limbs and wobbly knees. To not embarrass myself further, I force myself to straighten my spine and enter the club.
I almost glance back into the parlor, just to see the difference between the two spaces. The club interior still has a Victorian feel to it, but the modern touches and the dark color scheme has it screaming elite club for all the fun. Well, okay then. I want to look back so badly, but I don’t.
I don’t need anyone to make me feel like I’m living atop a glacier because I blurted a little truth. I am meeting a date. It’s not like Eric is my boyfriend. It’s not like I wouldn’t rather be snuggled up with Lincoln instead, but I am a woman who follows through with my commitments. Still, the disappointment Lincoln’s giving off makes me want to beg for forgiveness.
When I make it to the bar, there’s a guy who is obviously looking around for someone, so I head straight toward him. He’s tall and wiry; totally not my type. Fuck. Time to pull the band aid off and get this over with. The man turns enough to look me up and down, but he does so in a way which makes me feel cheap and uncomfortably naked.
“Hi,” I try to sound cheerful and not completely creeped out, “are you Eric?”
He slowly licks his bottom lip in a decidedly unsexy way before leaning back on the bar with some fabricatedI don’t give a fuckattitude. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m Eric. You must be Willow.” He looks me up and down again, this time the appraisal slower and oilier than the first. Of course, he pays special attention to my breasts as he does. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Um,” I clear my throat and try again. I swear I can still feel Lincoln’s eyes on me even though I know it’s impossible since I left him to his duty manning the front door. I force a smile on my face, “Nice to meet you.”
Eric surveys the bar and then makes a motion toward the gorgeous bartender. When she’s standing in front of us, he looks at me expectantly. I almost stumble over my order, feeling put on the spot, but I pull it together, “A Cosmo, please.”
When I look over at Eric, he is staring at my tits with a hungry look on his face. Sirens are going off in my head while an overhead voice, which sounds a lot like Lincoln’s, is screaming, “Retreat!”
I sigh because I can’t, not yet at least. I made a promise to Paisley and myself. I’m going to see this through even if it turns out to be the worst date of my life. I shouldn’t have to stay more than a few drinks. He’ll see he’s not really interested in me, and I’ll be able to make a hasty retreat.
Win-win.
Except for the fact a real win for me would be if I was still in Lincoln’s arms. His big, beefy arms while I’m being pressed against his chest, the one without the washboard abs. Who needs abs when a man with meat on his bones is snuggling against you? And feeding you, hopefully feeding you.
Wouldn’t that just be the life?
CHAPTER 2
LINCOLN
I’ve worked security in a lot of places but working at Aces has been my best job yet. It’s the first time I’ve been in charge, and I take it very seriously. I don’t know who has been fucking it up around here, but if it costs me my job I’m going to be pissed. Beyond pissed.
I’ve seen a lot of gorgeous women come through the door of Aces along with the other bars I’ve worked at before, but not a single one could ever compare to Willow. Through the portal windows in the front doors of Aces, I watched her get out of the car one leg at a time.
