8. Jax #2
I half listen to Jasmine go on about what her favorite parts of Chicago are while my other half focuses on Kiley.
Her friends have left her on the dance floor by herself, but she doesn’t seem to care.
Her eyes are closed and she’s swaying to the music, like she’s engrained in the rhythm and tempo of each chord playing.
I study her face and notice the heavier makeup she’s wearing.
When I see her at the pub, her makeup consists of only mascara and blush.
Normally she wears her hair in a ponytail, but tonight her hair is down, cascading in long, loose waves.
My hands itch to have those silky strands entwined in my fingers.
My eyes travel down and I immediately stiffen when I see her nipples pebbling through her tank top.
My imagination goes wild with thoughts of what her creamy breasts might look like while she’s straddling on top of me.
Even though her clothes tonight seem simple and plain, they’re wrapped tightly around her body.
With high heels and gold jewelry around her neck and wrists, she looks like a total vixen.
My pants feel tighter, and I make myself stop staring at her body.
I’m not the only man in the bar who's taken notice of her. There are three men standing behind her, just waiting to make their move. I watch as one of them hands his drink off to his friend, slowly walking up to Kiley. He stops a few inches away and starts dancing behind her. He waits a couple of seconds before he inches forward until he’s lightly touching her.
She whirls around and wags her finger at him. He obliges and moves back, but I have a feeling he’s not done trying.
“Yeah, those are great parts of Chicago,” I jump back into the conversation, only to have Jasmine give me a funny look.
“Dude, she asked why we’re here in St. Louis.” Harry elbows me, giving me the cue to respond so he can see how I answer. Sometimes when we are talking to women in different cities, we don’t tell them the true reason we’re in town or that we’re hockey players.
“We’re here for work,” I answer, but my attention is immediately drawn back to Kiley when I see the scumbag return to her personal space. This time, his arms are wrapped around her from behind. She’s trying to pry his arms open, but she only has one hand free while her other hand cradles her drink.
My temper starts simmering at seeing that man’s grimy hands on her. “Excuse me, I think I see someone I know.” Without waiting for a response, I leave Harry and the girls so I can go rescue Kiley.
It only takes me a couple of long strides before I’m standing in front of her. “There you are.” I snake my arm around her waist above where his hands are and yank her out of his grasp. Her breasts plaster against my chest and I inwardly groan at how amazing she feels.
She gasps in surprise and looks up at me. With her alcohol consumption and the darkness of the bar, it takes her a brief moment to recognize me, and when she does, she wraps her arms around my neck. “Are you stalking me, Manwhore Morrow?”
Manwhore Morrow? What the fuck?
I ignore her nickname and look over Kiley’s shoulder at the man trying to dance with her. “Go kick rocks, pal.”
“Hey, asshole, I was here first.”
“She’s not available,” I lie and keep my arm around her waist while I steer Kiley away from the douchebag and make our way off of the dance floor.
“Wait, I’m not done dancing.” She suddenly stops and looks down at her now empty drink. “I also think I need another drink.”
I grab the cup out of her hands and place it on the empty high top near us. I keep my other arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady since she’s swaying on her feet. “I think you need some water.”
She waves her hand in my face. “Pff, don’t be a fuddy duddy. We’re celebrating Lyra getting the ol’ ball and chain shackled to her.”
That’s one way of putting it. “Congrats to Lyra. What about you? Do you want to get married someday?” I ask because I’m hoping it leads to her opening up about her relationship with Zander’s dad.
Were they ever married?
Is that who Zander is with now?
None of this is even my business, but lately, I can’t seem to quench my thirst for knowledge of all things Kiley O’Shea.
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t be asking you for relationship advice.”
My jaw hangs loose at her comment, but when I see the wicked twinkle in her eye, I throw my head back and bark out a laugh. “Ouch. That was a low blow.”
Her smile fades as she stares at my lips.
I can feel the air shift and tighten with the sexual tension that’s now radiating off her.
It’s so unexpected that I’m left speechless.
Her gaze slowly trails back up to mine, and that’s when I see the spark of desire.
She blinks a couple of times to refocus and then gives me a confused look.
“Wait, what are you even doing here? You weren’t invited to the party. No stinky boys allowed.”
I chuckle and realize drunk Kiley might be my favorite. She’s giggling and smiling, revealing a softer, yet still sassy side to her. A side I would like to see more of. “We had a game tonight here in St. Louis.”
Her eyes go wide. “Wow, what a coincidence. Did you win?”
“Yes.”
“Did you score a goal?”
“I sure did,” I answer with pride.