Chapter 3 #2
Hey, brain, how about you get back online.
“Yes. Thank you, I’m fine.” I take a step back, needing a tiny bit more breathing room between us and again my heel slips, this time on a wedge of lemon.
He grabs me by the elbow.
“You seem hell bent on falling on your ass.” He grins, and the whole room sizzles around me.
He leans slightly to the right and tells the waiter to get everything cleaned up before someone breaks a leg.
“I’m not usually so clumsy.” I make sure to look where I’m stepping before I move out of the way of the mess surrounding us.
“Your leg is wet.”
He leads me to his booth and sits down, picking up the black fabric napkin from the table.
“Here, let me.” He pats his knee, and for a second I contemplate sitting in his lap. But then he chuckles. “Your foot. So I can clean your leg.”
Right.
My leg.
Balancing on my left foot, I lift my right leg. He cups the back of my calf and guides my foot to his knee. His fingers are gentle, barely skimming my skin but the fire burning beneath is intense.
He wipes the cloth napkin down my leg. Capturing a droplet with his thumb, he brings it to his lips. His tongue darts out, and he licks away the moisture.
“Bourbon.” He grins. “I’m more of a whiskey man, myself.”
I smile. At least I think I do. This man has my brain short circuiting with his touch.
“Did any get into your shoe?” He grabs hold of the heel and tries to pull it off.
“No.” I clear my throat when the word comes out nearly breathless. “Just my leg.”
He drags his gaze up my leg, over my torso, slowly etching a deep desire as his eyes make their way over me. I almost giggle when our gazes meet up.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“All done.”
“Thanks.”
“You can put your foot down now.” He smirks, making no attempt to move my foot from his knee.
“Oh, right.” I jerk my leg back and put both feet back on the floor. “Thanks.”
He drops the napkin onto the table and peers around the wall of the booth. “It’s safe if you needed to go somewhere.”
Safe? What’s safe?
Oh, the floor. The mess has been cleaned up.
“No. I was just taking a minute before going back to my table. My friends were discussing—” I stop myself; blabbering isn’t like me. I take a breath. “I was just taking a lap.”
His mouth quirks up to one side. “Taking a lap?”
“Yeah, you know around the lounge.”
“So avoiding your friends?”
“In a way, yeah.” I nod. “I just needed a second.”
“You can hang here if you still need a second.” He gestures to the seat across from him.
“Oh.” I glance over my shoulder to our table.
Kara and Rosa are staring at me. Rosa’s jaw is hanging open, and Kara is giving me two thumbs up, her unspoken order to keep doing whatever the hell it is I’m doing because she full heartedly agrees.
I swear sometimes that woman can read my mind.
“It’s up to you. Your friends seem to be doing okay without you at the moment.”
When I look back at him, I realize he’s leaning to the side, watching them from around my waist.
“Are you waiting for someone?” I ask narrowing my eyes.
A man this good-looking and this good-smelling doesn’t typically sit alone in a club like Lush. Either he’s with a group of men around a poker table or sitting in a dark corner with a woman he picked up on the dance floor.
He huffs a short laugh. “No. I was just killing time myself.”
“So you’re meeting someone.” Disappointment floods me, which makes no sense.
I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours.
“I already said I wasn’t.” His full focus is on me. The intensity of it burns my skin.
“Then you’re killing time until your friends get here?”
“Friends no. I have a business thing.” As if his saying the words conjures it, his phone vibrates on the tabletop. He swipes it up takes a look and frowns. “I did have a business thing. I don’t anymore.”
He types out a message on his phone, then tucks it away in the back of his pants.
“Looks like I’m all yours,” he grins. It’s such a playful smile filled with dangerous adventure.
Like a roller coaster ride that looks too scary to attempt, but you just know if you don’t you’ll regret it forever. That’s him.
“Again, I apologize for the accident earlier. Can I get you a round of drinks? On the house of course.” The waiter who bumped into me moments ago appears at the table.
“I’ll have a whiskey neat. She’ll have whatever she was drinking at that table over there.” My rollercoaster ride gestures toward Kara and Rosa. “And a glass of water.”
“Of course.” The waiter practically bows as though he’s leaving the presence of royalty then hightails himself away.
“How do you know I want a drink? Maybe I’m ready to go back to my friends.” I fold my hands on the table, leaning back against the lush backing of the booth.
The soft yellow glow of the single bulb smoked chandelier hanging over the table casts him a gentle light. His expression contradicts his easiness with his set square jaw, and a dark-flamed fire brewing in his eyes.
“If you wanted to go, you wouldn’t have sat down.” He leans forward. “And I don’t want you to go yet. So you’ll stay. Have your drink.”
I swallow, trying to wet the inside of my mouth that’s gone dry. Unlike my panties, which are getting wetter by the moment with him looking at me with such a predatory gaze.
“Does ordering women around often work for you?” I finally croak out a question.
Apparently, my spine did make the trek with me across the room when I left the safety of my friends.
The side of his mouth kicks up in the sexiest grin I’ve seen from him yet.
“What works with other women doesn’t matter. It works for you.” He leans back as our drinks are delivered.
Once the waiter is gone and a fresh Cranberry Velvet sits on the small black square napkin in front of me, he locks his eyes with mine.
Lightning bolts crashing from the ceiling to my core right at this moment would be less powerful than this.
“Take a sip of the water,” he orders, and it feels like every bit of a test.
I run my finger around the lip of my glass, eyeing him over the rim. Do I want to pass…or fail?