Chapter 3
TAYLOR
Oh my God. This was happening. This was happening.
I wiped my sweaty palms on the hem of my skirt, thinking to myself as I walked toward the hot cowboy that I was really glad I took a little extra time getting ready.
At first, I’d considered wearing jeans with my cute white top, but at the last minute–or the extra time I hid in my room from my riled father–I switched to this skirt.
It was a deep green and flared to just above my knee.
My leather boots were old and well worn, but so were everyone’s in the place. This was a working town, not LA.
Twenty feet away and his gaze was laser fixed on me like a heat seeking missile.
I patted my hair as I went, wondering if it was staying tamed or if it had gone wild all on its own, like usual.
Ten feet and I could see that his eyes were a deep blue with thick lashes. His nose may have been broken once because of a crook in it, but to me, he only seemed more real.
Five feet and I licked my lips, wondering if drool was in the corner. His eyes followed the action.
When I stepped in front of him, I had to tip my chin back. I wasn’t tall. Or skinny. Or tan. Yet, he looked at me as if I were a steak dinner and he was a tiger.
I cleared my throat. “Hi.”
“Hi.” That one word was deep and rumbly.
My wits were scattered like dandelion fluff in the wind. Then I remembered why I was here. “Um, I’m not sure what Amber told you, but if you can’t tell by my friend’s sash and tiara, it’s a bachelorette party. The one with the brown hair thought a bingo card would make for a fun evening.”
“And is it?” he asked.
I blinked. “Is it what?”
“Fun.”
I smiled. “Oh, um. Sure.”
“Yeah, my night just got a hell of a lot more fun.”
I didn’t look at the two other men at the table, but I heard them chuckle.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “So, um. I guess I’m going to kiss you.”
He shook his head. “No, red, I’m gonna kiss you.”
I wasn’t sure what the difference was, but it sounded really hot when it came out of his mouth.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He leaned down because he was that much taller, his nose brushing against my hair. I felt the heat of his breath against my neck. “You didn’t ask me where I was going to kiss you.”
I licked my lips again. Was it hot in here? His scent was dark, like leather and spice and a tang of sweat.
“Oh, um, we can do it right here.”
He shook his head slowly. “I meant on your body. If I’m gonna get my mouth on you, it’s gonna be your pussy.”
I moaned.
I did.
That was me.
My eyes fell closed and–holy shit.
“That way I get your panties. You want to get bingo, don’t you?”
“B… b-ingo?”
“Or just an O?”
I felt like I was going to topple over so I grabbed his forearms. They felt like they were carved from hot granite.
“You want that?” he asked.
Did I want an O from Mr. Hottie?
He lifted his head so our gazes held again.
I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know his name. What his favorite color was. If he liked gel or mint toothpaste. All I knew without a shadow of a doubt was that he could DEFINITELY give me an O with his mouth. On my pussy.
My vagina clenched, the closest thing to a cheer it could give. Along with soaking my panties. That he was going to keep.
What other options did I have? Right, continue to be the designated driver for my drunk friends. Go home to who-the-hell-knew-what with my Dad. Maybe he’d be passed out. Maybe he’d want me to cook him a grilled cheese. Maybe I’d find more broken dish pieces.
None of that… heck, nothing sounded as good as an orgasm from Mr. Hottie.
There was only one answer.
“Yes.”