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“You could say that.”
A moment later, his drink was in front of him, and the couple had left together through the back door.
“You don’t look like you’re from around here.” A saccharine sweet voice came from his left as a blond woman took a seat beside him.
“I’m not.”
Her gaze raked over him. “Someone like you shouldn’t be lonely.” She put her hand on his thigh, making her intentions clear.
He should take her to her place and fuck her, get Jasmine out of his head. This was how he usually found women. His reaction to the innkeeper had to be because he hadn’t scratched that itch in too long. So why does this woman do nothing for me, then?
“Are you offering to keep me company?” he asked, trying to get himself in the mood.
She smiled, her blue eyes flashing. “I can be very entertaining.” Her hand moved up his leg.
He clamped his palm over hers, stopping the ascension. “I don’t doubt that.”
She looked down at the firm contact before her gaze flicked back to his. “You like to be in control? I can do that.”
He shoved her claws away and picked up his glass before draining the alcohol. He shook his head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m good.”
She pouted her bottom lip, sealing his resolve.
“Have a nice night,” he said, getting to his feet and throwing a tip on the counter. What was wrong with him?
Back at the inn, he walked inside the dimly lit hall. A small light peeked out from beneath the adjacent door that was marked “Under Construction.” Was Jasmine in there?
He backed up a step. No way was he going to ruin his career over a woman. Even if she is the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
Atlas took the stairs as quietly as he could to his room. He needed to shut everything out for a while.
The window was still open, letting in a cool breeze from the ocean. The moon was half full, its light reflecting on the dark waves crashing against the shore. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. He pulled his shirt over his head and balled it in his hand. His heartbeat raced as the scent of Jasmine washed over him—like sweet rose and salt water. Even in his space, he couldn’t escape her lingering smell. His cock jerked, aching for relief.
Atlas eyed the bed, this was better than the alternative. A fantasy wouldn’t fuck up his career, but if he went downstairs, he’d ruin everything.
He lay on the bed, taking a deep inhale of the shirt. His scent mixed with Jasmine’s heady feminine one. He slid his pants off and took his cock in his hand, pumping his fist up and down his aching shaft. He imagined Jasmine’s green eyes, smoky with lust as he pulled her close. She’d taste like rain, soothing and lifesaving. He’d strip her until she was bare, laid out before him like a gift. He’d suck one of those pert nipples into his mouth. He groaned, squeezing harder, pumping faster. She’d get on her knees, and open her luscious mouth.
“I want to taste you,” she’d say.
She’d run that pink tongue up his shaft before she swallowed him, root to tip, taking everything he had to give her. His stomach clenched. The base of his spine tingled. Every muscle in his body tensed.
“Fuck,” he grunted. Ropes of cum shot onto his naked chest. He came hard.
He panted, catching his breath. He’d never orgasmed that powerfully on his own before. Looking at the sticky mess on his body, anger boiled to the surface of his short-lived euphoria. Jasmine Evans had too much power over him. She invaded his thoughts and desires. Since when did he turn down a willing blonde at a bar? Fuck that. He needed to do his job and get the hell out of here before he acted on something they would both regret.
