Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE FOURTH DRINK had been a mistake.
She should have passed on the third one too.
But watching two people so obviously in love get engaged had her requesting the third drink and then another.
How did they do it? Curly and Brooke made it look so damn easy. It hadn’t been all hearts and Cupids for them, but to watch them now, one would think they’d been specially designed for each other—two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. They made being in a relationship look like the most natural thing in the world.
Talia genuinely didn’t understand it. The idea of merging her life with another sounded impossible. What would happen to her independence? Her job? What about her personality? The things she loved? Wouldn’t they all disappear or be dwarfed by her partner’s wishes and desires?
It had happened to her mother, leaving the once beautiful and successful dancer a shell of her former self. Granted, Talia’s father had been more of a colossal asshole than most men, but at one point, her mother had thought he was an incredible man. She’d looked at him once the same way Brooke looked at Curly. Then it all went to shit. Talia never found the risk worth it. That didn’t mean she wasn’t happy for her new friends, but she had little faith they’d be as happy in a few years as they claimed to be today.
Still, it would be nice to have a man want her. To gaze at her with love and lust like Curly did with Brooke. How long had it been since a man had that look in his eyes? The one that said he wanted to tear her clothes off and throw her on the bed?
Too damn long.
She needed to spend some quality tension-relieving time with her silicone boyfriend later. With the way Pulse looked tonight in a snug T-shirt that accentuated his firm, tattooed arms, she had plenty of fantasy fuel to carry her through a tension-relieving orgasm.
That thought had her giggling as she walked—staggered—down the hall toward the restroom.
“Shit,” she whispered as she bounced off the wall for the second time. “I think I’m super drunk.” She burst into a fit of giggles.
When was the last time she’d let this happen? It had been ages since she’d felt comfortable enough around people to let down her hair and pick up a drink.
Or four drinks.
It felt good to let loose and have some frivolous fun for once.
She made it to the bathroom without incident, took care of business, and then stumbled out of the restroom. As she shoved open the door with too much force and burst through with the grace of an elephant, she smacked into a hard, nicely scented body.
“Oh, shit! Sorry,” she said, snickering so hard she snorted. She slapped a hand over her nose and mouth. “Sorry,” she said again, muffled this time.
“No worries.”
The familiar, amused voice had her head whipping up.
“Pulse,” she squeaked.
Of course. Of-freaking-course.
He gripped her upper arms, steadying her. His hands felt so damn nice on her skin—warm, strong, yet gentle.
She shivered.
Pulse sucked in a breath, having caught the involuntary tremor.
Their eyes locked.
The air thickened.
“You smell so good,” she muttered as she rose onto her tiptoes and inhaled his scent at the base of his neck. The aroma was more intoxicating than the gin. It went straight to her head and between her legs.
“Talia…”
She couldn’t tell if his voice held a warning or a plea. The alcohol had soaked through her rational thinking and flooded her reasoning. Thoughts of going home and touching herself to the memory of his hands, smell, and how he looked obliterated the last of her good sense.
Her pulse thrummed heavily through her veins, making her whole body throb. Her breasts felt heavy, and her lips tingled. She licked the lower one, then inhaled him again.
She was so drunk. Drunk on alcohol, drunk on Pulse.
And it was so lovely.
Forget thinking. Forget good sense. She spent all day every day focused on those things. Tonight, with the mixture of alcohol and Pulse coursing through her veins, she only wanted to feel. She planted her hands on his chest and shoved.
His back hit the wall with a surprised grunt.
“Tal—”
She kissed him.
Not a shy, you’re-attractive-and-I-want-to-explore-something kiss, but a full-on fuck-me kiss—open-mouthed, tongue, teeth, and aggression.
He froze as though stunned by her behavior. But it didn’t last long. His arms closed around her, and he stole control of the kiss. Soft lips moved with hers—sure, confident, and hungry—while his arms held her flush against him.
She had the illusion of control, having trapped him against the wall, but five seconds of his lips on hers, and she was putty in his hands. He chased her tongue with his, not giving her a second to catch her breath. She whimpered, and his fingers flexed against her back.
She wanted them to move. To touch and stroke her all over.
How long had it been since a man kissed her? Too long, and not nearly as long as it had been since a man kissed her this way. The way that obliterated every thought in her head except one.
More .
Talia was an assertive woman, one who worked hard for what she wanted and refused to let the steep slope of a mountain deter her from scaling it. She never let fear stand in her way and bowed down to no one, particularly no man. But she also had enough trust issues to fill a swimming pool and never made herself vulnerable to others, physically or emotionally.
So, the fact that she was kissing Pulse like her life depended on it and the aggressor was out of character.
Insanely out of character.
She nipped his lower lip—something she’d never done—and he let out a guttural groan. His pecs flexed beneath her fingertips. That sound. She could live on it. Heat flushed every inch of her skin. She felt crazed. Out of control with desire. She wanted to do things to him. She wanted him to do things to her. Things she’d never done or even wanted because they’d give him power over her.
The thought of it terrified her, yet as a hardness ground against her stomach, it thrilled her just as much.
She pressed closer and widened her stance as he continued to ravage her mouth. One of his thighs slipped between her legs. He flexed the strong muscles against her pelvis. She gasped into his mouth as a riot of pleasure shot from between her legs through her body.
Pulse dragged his hands down her back to her ass, where he squeezed and rocked her on his thigh. She moved against him, finally getting pressure where she needed it.
Yes.
More, she needed more. She rocked against him, shameless in her need for friction.
So damn good.
God, I can’t believe he’s a client.
A wave of ice crashed over her.
Her eyes flew open, and she went rigid in his arms.
What the hell am I doing?
Pulse stilled as soon as she stopped humping his damn leg.
He released her immediately.
She jerked away so fast and hard that she crashed into the wall opposite him.
They stared at each other across three feet of space. It wasn’t nearly enough physical distance. His eyes were dark and wild with lust. His chest heaved, and his nostrils flared as he panted. He curled his hands into fists at his sides.
Talia breathed just as hard, trembling with unfulfilled need. Her body didn’t understand why it felt so damn good one second, only to have those sensations brutally ripped away without satisfaction.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head. “That was entirely inappropriate of me.”
“Tal—”
“No.” She held up a hand as she pushed off the wall. “I shouldn’t have done that.” She stumbled a few backward steps down the hall. “It won’t happen again,” she said as she turned and staggered away. The least the universe could give her was a graceful escape, but the damn alcohol had her unsteady, and the aftermath of his kisses left her weak and trembling.
Why did you do that?
It wasn’t often she regretted her actions. Talia overthought and overanalyzed everything. Acting on impulse wasn’t her, even with alcohol soaking her brain. And yet tonight, she’d gone and thrown that out the window.
“Hey.” Brooke caught her as she bumbled her way toward the exit. “You okay, Talia? You’re not looking too good.”
“Um…”
No, I’m not okay. I just kissed the hell out of a man for the first time in years, and I was two seconds from begging him to tear my clothes off and do all sorts of filthy things to me.
“You know, I think I drank a little too much.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I’m a little shaky and fuzzy-headed. Would it be okay if I left my car here overnight so I can get a rideshare home?”
Brooke linked their arms as she guided Talia outside. The night air had cooled to almost chilly, which felt incredible on her overheated skin. Talia inhaled gulps of fresh, Pulse-free air. A mix of disappointment and relief flowed over her as his scent disappeared, replaced by the outdoors.
“Of course, you can leave your car here,” Brooke said as she steered Talia right. “But there’s no need to get a car.” A beautiful, refurbished barn stood tall and proud some hundred feet away. “We have a bunch of apartments in there for that very reason. A prospect is staying in one now, and I think, given how many shots he’s had, Jinx and Harper will crash in another tonight. That leaves two empty apartments. You’re welcome to either.
As much as she wanted to be in her bed, she was getting to the point in her drunken journey of inevitable pass-out. Stumbling a few yards to a soft, warm bed sounded better than an expensive, long car ride home.
“Are you sure? I really don’t want to impose.”
“No imposition at all.” Brooke patted her hand. “In fact, I insist. Come on.”
Together, they walked to the barn. Brooke led her in and directly up a long staircase to the second floor.
“The prospect is directly across from this apartment,” she said as she stopped at a black door. “He’s quiet and won’t bother you at all. Jinx and Harper, on the other hand, will keep you up all night with their antics if you catch my drift.” She winked, and Talia’s face heated.
“Gotcha. Appreciate you putting me on a different floor. It’s hard enough not to be jealous watching all you couples drooling over each other. I don’t need to add to it with a nocturnal performance.”
Laughing, Brooke used a key to unlock the door. “Man, I really like you, Talia. You have got to hang out with us more.” She opened the door and gestured inside. “Here you go.”
“Thank you so much. Oh,” she said as she stepped into the studio apartment. “This is nice.”
“Thanks, but I can take zero credit for any of it.”
The space, decorated with simple, neutral colors, was clean, modern, and cozy. A small kitchenette stood opposite a queen bed. A large-screen television hung on the far wall before a plush loveseat—more than enough for her to get through the night.
“There are extra toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathroom, along with some skincare items. The fridge is stocked with drinks and some basics… eggs, cheese, bacon, bread. That kind of stuff. Feel free to help yourself to anything.”
“Careful, with this kind of service, you might never get rid of me.”
Brooke chuckled. “I wouldn’t mind in the least. Especially with the way you help take care of our guys. I heard you helped Tracker get out of a sticky mess with his business yesterday.”
Talia waved away Brooke’s gratitude. “Believe me when I say that was nothing. Just some legal red tape that was very easy to cut through. That stuff is the easy part of my job.” Her eyelids drooped, heavy with alcohol-induced fatigue. Damn that fourth drink.
“You look like you’re about ready to drop, so let me get out of your hair. Feel free to wander over to the clubhouse in the morning. Someone is always there hanging out.”
Yeah, she wouldn’t be doing that. She’d already spent more time socializing today than in the past six months. Tomorrow, she’d be hungover and need to recharge her batteries in a quiet, biker-free environment.
Or at least in a place she wouldn’t risk running into Pulse and humiliating herself further.
God, why did I kiss him?
“Super glad you came.”
“Me too. And I’m glad I was here to see you get engaged. Congratulations again.” She’d said it earlier when Brooke and Curly returned from their task , but it bared repeating.
“Thanks, Talia. You have a good night.”
“Thanks, Brooke. You too.”
Brook hugged her quickly but tightly. “G’night.” Then she slipped through the door. A muffled male voice, followed by Brooke’s laughter, had Talia grinning. Brooke’s new fiancé must have trailed them and grumbled at her for intending to walk back in the dark alone despite the club’s property being the safest place in the city.
Alone at last, Talia eyed the bed. The light gray comforter looked soft and cozy. It called to her. She needed to brush her teeth and wash off her makeup. Instead, she kicked off her shoes, strode toward the bed, and flopped down face-first. Ten minutes. Just a ten-minute rest, then she’d get up and do some semblance of a nighttime routine.
It was her last thought before darkness stole the rest of her night.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Talia groaned. If that was a solicitor banging on her door at some ungodly hour despite her ‘no solicitation’ sign, she was going to lose her shit.
“I should sue,” she grumbled as she rolled to her back. Her lips made a sticky, slapping sound as she moistened them. Why did her mouth taste like she’d eaten roadkill last night?
It took a few seconds to peel her eyelids open, and the bright sun assaulted her brain when she did. “Oh God, wait...”
She shot straight up, wincing when her alcohol-shriveled brain bounced against her skull.
“What the hell?”
She wasn’t home.
The night came rushing back with the force of an avalanche. Christ, she’d stayed on the Handlers’ property because she’d been too drunk and tired to go home.
After she’d kissed Pulse.
“Nooo,” she said with a groan as she flopped back down.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
She’d put ten dollars on that being Brooke at the door, worried Talia had kicked the bucket in here because she’d slept half the day away.
She forced herself out of bed and lumbered to the door like a roaming zombie. The chilly wood floor had her shivering in seconds. Her mouth felt disgusting, and she could only imagine how it smelled. Her day-old makeup must have looked like a hot mess. Poor Brooke was about to get the jump scare of her life.
Wonderful .
She pulled the door open with a resigned sigh. “Good morn… oh, shit.”
Pulse stood in the doorway, freshly showered. He wore dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and his Handlers’ cut. He held a cardboard carrier with two large coffees in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other.
He smirked as he gave her a once-over.
The urge to slam the door in his face and burrow under the covers for the next three hours crashed into her, but she couldn’t be that much of an ass. Instead, she forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.
“Uh, hey.” God, why did she act like this around him? She was great with words. As a trial attorney, half her job was using words in clever ways. But one glimpse of Pulse and the best she could come up with was, hey . In the short time she’d known this man, he’d seen her more vulnerable than she’d let anyone see her in years. It was as uncomfortable as a pebble in her shoe.
Yet she didn’t want him to go.
“I come bearing caffeine and sugar,” he said with a grin.
“Wow, thanks. That’s really nice of you.” Could she be more awkward?
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry.” She widened the door and stepped out of the way.
He faced her as he came in, brushing against her and sending jolts of desire skittering across her skin. She sucked in a breath. How did he do this to her?
“Told you I’d bring you breakfast this morning. You made it easier by being here.”
Right. He had information for her. There she was, mooning over him like a smitten teenager, and he was there to discuss business.
Did that mean he didn’t remember the kiss? Maybe he kissed a different woman every night. Perhaps she was freaking out over something he considered the same as a damn handshake.
As if she wasn’t humiliated enough.
Hell, the man was gorgeous, had a good job, and rode a motorcycle. He probably had women flinging themselves at him from all angles. A random drunken kiss was just another Friday night for him.
Get it together and be a professional.
“Thank you. I need five minutes to undo some of the damage I did last night,” she said as she waved at herself. There wasn’t anything she could do about wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but a thorough toothbrushing and face wash should make her feel more human. At least she wouldn’t be breathing dragon air his way.
“Take your time,” he said as he set the food on the table.
Talia escaped toward the bathroom. As she was about to shut the door, he called her name. “Talia?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sure you’re not comfortable wearing the same clothes you had on last night, but I can’t say I’m sorry to see you in those shorts again.” He winked, then turned his back on her to unpack whatever was in the bag.
Talia shut the door, encasing herself in the tiny bathroom. She sagged against it, staring at the ceiling as Pulse’s words curled her lips into a genuine grin.
This was bad.
This was so, so bad.