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“My sister's best friend has read one too many romance novels and thought it would be a hoot to switch it up and hold a bachelorette party at a sex club,” I explained glumly. “My sister's getting married in two days and these precious last days of single-ness are supposed to be all about her, right? Except I've been making myself small and invisible and I'm just exhausted. I don't even know you and you don't know me, but I can tell you if my sister knew me she'd know that my ex cheated on me at places just like this and my reluctance to get my freak on has nothing to do with not being a team player. She never would have even asked it of me.” I couldn't bear to look at him. To look over and see those intense eyes wide with disbelief or disgust. I looked at my eyes instead. No amount of smoke was able to hide the tears that blurred my view. “So, I'm back here, back with a family I avoid because I want to be seen. I want to be me. But I'm right back to hiding; wearing my sister's dress, pretending that we were bonding when she straightened my hair and did my makeup just like hers. And instead of leaving, I let myself pretend that I could have sex with some random, gorgeous man. But these aren't my clothes and I'm not that person, and even though the next few days are going to be torture, one night of bliss with you won't make me whole.”
I finally took a breath. A deep one that filled my lungs and calmed my shaky nerves. I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, I fully expected to be alone. Who wouldn't flee? He didn't even know my name and I'd just given him my unsolicited life story. He came here with one goal in mind, and it wasn't to listen to me complain about my childhood, ex and family woes.
I opened them and slowly, painstakingly tilted my head in his direction. The tilt wasn't sufficient when I realized he was actually still beside me. It was like someone had plucked me out of the real world and dropped me into a movie. He was the lead with the face that launched a thousand sighs, every female audience member memorizing every line, every angle, all the shades of brown in his hair and the spectrum of green in his eyes. And somehow I was in the frame too, sitting beside a man that looked at me like I wasn't completely ridiculous. He actually looked intrigued.
I hadn't scared him away.
It was the sweetest and most terrifying thing. I knew what was wrong with me...what was wrong with him?
He pulled out his wallet and thumbed through a jarringly thick wad of cash. Either he was wealthy, or there was a strip club looming in his crystal ball. I pretended that I didn't notice him leave a startling amount of money as a tip, and waited for him to extricate himself from our awkward encounter.
“How about you and I get a real drink?”
I was too shocked to pick my jaw off the floor. “You want to get a drink with me? You don't even know my na-”
“I'm Xander.” He said smoothly.
I could have guessed that was his name. Something exciting and a little edgy. He held out his hand.
This could all be some elaborate ruse to get in my pants. And even if it was, why wasn't I more bothered by it?
I shook his hand while I still had the nerve. “Penny.” I did a quick sweep of my body with my free one, like that explained everything.
“It’s a beautiful name.” He cracked a grin that made me weak in the knees, his thumb stroking my skin. It sent a longing through me that confirmed my new worst fear—I was already addicted to his touch.
I decided I'd stay on the ride for a little while longer, slipping off the stool with a grace that surprised me. “I'd love to have a drink.”
Chapter Four: Xander
I knew a handful of bars in the area that would have made a drink that scratched the itch we both so clearly needed scratched. I passed by each one, telling myself it was because they also offered a side of history that we did not need. Bartenders that would plunk our drinks down on coasters with smiles a little too obvious. Smiles that said, ‘What number did this one grab?’ and ‘Poor girl—she better leave the stars in the sky because next week, he'll have someone new beside him, twirling her straw in her drink’. Or worst, that she'd look at me with those golden flecked eyes, asking me what was good when she really wanted to know how many girls sat in her seat, asking the exact same question.
Those thoughts were enough to make me awkwardly pause, tempted to just plow through the door. But I wasn't the kind of man that did awkward. Or plowed through anything. Or cared what thoughts or judgments that fluttered around in the bartender’s heads.
But I cared what Penny thought.
And not just of me. I cared what she thought, period. Usually the only words I cared about from women I desired were yes and how soon they could get to whatever suite I'd arranged for the night. Yet every word Penny had uttered seemed to draw me closer. It was an unraveling of sorts, the ribbon unfurling into the darkness, the bottom unseen. The loss of control, the out of character need to see where this led, to get to know her, was unsettling. Yet, it was compelling in a way that kept me moving. That kept me glancing over at her, loving the flashes of her taut jaw and the curve of her sexy ass.
That was the balancing act. I'd think up something sweet, like the way she growled, ‘no thank you’ when I offered her my jacket, even though I saw the way she shivered in her cropped leather one. Then, I'd drop my gaze to familiar territory, like the way the jacket accentuated every delicious line of her body. It was a subconscious reminder that my goal, to fuck, hadn't changed just because I liked the way she smiled and refused to let her guard down with me. But I'd yet to do the same. My guard was still up and in full effect.
I hovered in front of Eddy's, the wind's gusts lifting my collar. I glanced in through the glass, the fingers at my side tingling as I did quick math in in my head. I've frequented this bar at least ten times, which means I picked up how many women if I’m being conservative?
“You're cold, I'm finally ready to admit that I'm cold, and this place seems like it’s right up our alley. I'm like two seconds away from ditching you and waving from the bar that looks so warm and inviting. And warm.” Her teeth chattered behind me and when I peered over my shoulder, I saw her arms wrapped tight around her body, her cheeks flushed red. The urge to kiss her was the first thing that hit me, the temperature quickly fading. There was no sign of hesitation when I turned to her, stepping close as her eyes widened. She'd gestured at herself when she told me her name, almost like she was explaining that's why she was the way she was. Average. Forgettable.
She couldn't be more wrong.
Before I could stop myself or overanalyze what had come over me, my hands cradled her cheeks, a heat with two ignition sources flickering to life inside me. On one hand, I wanted her. There was a gentleness about her that brought out a need to ravage her; to strip her down with more than just my gaze. Her skin was cool to the touch. From the way her lips quivered and she didn't yank from me, fleeing for the safety and warmth of Eddy's, I knew she was waiting for me to make my move.
The second place was something different. It noticed things I didn't notice before. Like the gold that weaved its way through her honey brown hair. The bits of green that sparked in her eyes as she scanned my face. The gentleness was hidden by skepticism now. If I was smart, I'd say something charming and pull her inside. The night had taken a turn since I saw her, and now that we were here, I saw no benefit in playing my usual game.
I leaned in, her delicate, floral scent cocooning me. I felt safe and reckless. I wanted to devour her—and I wanted to just stand on the sidewalk with my lips hovering above hers.
She took the leap for us. She lifted on her toes and I discovered that she tasted even better than I imagined. The only taste I'd been concerned with came from a place lower, between her thighs—but that was static. I tightened my hold and she let out a moan that echoed in my throat. My tongue dashed into her mouth, and she danced with me, filling all my senses until nothing existed outside of our kiss.
The lust dove back to the forefront when she pressed her body into mine, taking my bottom lip between her teeth and tugging. I wanted to say fuck the drink. I was already drunk off her, bound to make all sorts of romantic missteps I'd regret in the morning. I wanted more than the feel of her flesh wrapped around my flesh. I wanted to trace every inch of her with my fingers. I wanted to hear her story.
I froze, a thought bringing everything to a standstill.
I needed a girlfriend—and there was already these stirrings inside me...
