5. Sean
“Ow, what the fuck?” I ask, glaring at my soon-to-be ex-friend. “That fucking hurt, dick-bag.”
“Don’t make it obvious,” Connor says, staring straight ahead as if he didn’t just kick me under the table. “But look at your wan with the brown hair at the bar… she keeps lookin’ over at ya.”
Intrigued, I casually glance over my shoulder to find a pair of big eyes staring right at me. They belong to a brunette in her thirties, who’s sitting alone, wearing a long black dress that hugs her curves and reveals a sliver of a silky-smooth leg through the high slit. Her hair is tied up in a twist, leaving her neck bare except for a delicate gold chain. I have a faint sense of recognition, but in the dim light of the room, it’s hard to make out the finer details.
Still, I can see enough to know, that yeah, she’s gorgeous.
“Are you goin’ over there, or what?” Connor asks, swirling the contents of his glass as we sit in our favorite booth at Swayze’s, toward the back. “Because if you don’t, I will.”
There’s definitely something familiar about her, yet I can’t quite put my finger on it. She reminds me of someone.
I consider it and almost decline. After all, the day hasn’t been that great, and my mood hasn’t exactly improved yet. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, I had to deal with my father’s phone calls and voicemails as he attempted to dish “advice” on how to proceed. As if I haven’t overseen hundreds of takeovers in the past. I did my best to ignore him, and when five o’clock rolled around, I was out the door quicker than normal.
That being said, I’m not in the habit of making foolish decisions, and disregarding the attention of a beautiful woman who’s showing interest would clearly be unwise. I need to blow off steam, and what better way to do that than with her?
I pick up my steaming coffee cup and throw Connor a look. “Don’t wait up,” I say, getting to my feet.
“Oh, don’t worry about me. Plenty ‘round here to keep me distracted.”
He’s caught the eye of a blonde woman on the other side of the room and is in an intense staring contest. Leaving him to it, I keep my gaze on the bar as I cross the room toward my prey. Both stools on either side of my target are empty. She sips from one of those brightly colored cocktails, the ones that come with a piece of fruit or garnish on the rim. When I get close enough to finally make out some details, I notice a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the top of her shoulders. Her blue eyes have a bit of a glaze to them, which leads me to believe she isn’t nursing her first drink.
“Is this seat taken?” I ask, motioning to one of the stools.
“Classic pickup line. A lot better than the newer ones I’ve heard over the last two hours.” Her voice is as smooth as her skin looks, and it draws me in.
It also triggers that feeling again. The feeling that she reminds me of someone. I take the seat, placing my half-finished cup of coffee on the bar top.
“You seem familiar to me,” I say. “Have we met?”
For a moment, there’s a flash of emotion in her eyes. Her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away, shaking her head as she picks up her drink. “Wow. Talk about a dagger to the heart. Well, not heart. Ego is more like it.”
Ah, shit. I do know her from somewhere.
Have I slept with her?
No.
Since I haven’t done much dating lately, and she doesn’t look like any of my previous flings, I conclude I at least haven’t chatted her up before. Studying her closely, I take in the lines of her face and the features I can now examine more closely.
“Since I don’t remember hearing your voice filled with ecstasy,” I say, “I’m going to conclude we haven’t had sex.”
She laughs, a deep full laugh that I enjoy. “No, nothing like that,” she insists. “Although, maybe picture me without the dress and in a pink towel…”
It hits me like a freight train.
Holy shit.
It’s my neighbor from this morning.
How the hell did I not notice it before? Then again, my last view of her was of those freckled tits and soft pink nipples in the morning sunlight, so I had been slightly distracted.
“I didn’t recognize you with your mask off—and your clothes on,” I say, stunned by her transformation. Damn, she cleans up well.
She snorts in amusement and shakes her head. “Yeah, clearly, which is more than a little offensive. Wearing a yogurt face mask shouldn’t exactly make me unidentifiable.”
“True, but can you blame me? We only met once for like, what, ten minutes.”
“And yet, surprisingly, I remembered your face, even beneath that stubble, and despite the fact that I also saw you naked.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t my face you thought about the moment you saw me sitting over there.”
Redness blooms across her cheeks, and she rolls her eyes. “Rude and smug. You really are the full package, aren’t you?”
“You’ve seen it, you would know.”
She smirks as she picks up her drink and polishes it off in one long gulp. She waves to the bartender for another. I shrug out of my suit jacket and drape it over the empty stool next to me. She’s gotten my attention, and I’m settling in for an interesting conversation.
“Celebrating or on the rebound?” I ask.
“Neither…umm, I mean, well, something like that. Just need a little pick-me-up.” She gives me a sweeping once-over. “What about you?”
“Blowing off steam after work with my buddy.”
She glances off to the side, and when I look, I find Connor chatting up the skinny blonde he’d set his sights on a few minutes earlier. She’s nice looking, sure, but I prefer natural tits.
She grins. “Seems he’s looking to blow off steam with someone else.”
“But hey, I don’t blame him,” I say. “Clearly, she’s got more curves than me.”
She laughs, all vibrant. “But not more than me.”
“You certainly have a point there,” I say.
I like this back and forth, this banter. She’s quick with her words and doesn’t seem afraid to say what’s on her mind. Not to mention, I catch her biting her bottom lip when she picks up her new drink. It adds a captivating charm to her.
“It was bold of you to come over.” She takes another sip of her cocktail.
“Well, you know, they say luck favors the bold.”
“And…how’s that luck of yours panning out?” she asks, her smile hinting at the promise of an interesting evening ahead.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
“I haven’t decided yet,” she declares.
My phone starts to vibrate, and I take it out of my pocket to glance at the screen. When I realize it’s work, I bite back a grunt of annoyance.
“Well, while you decide, I need to answer this,” I say, getting to my feet. I leave my coffee and jacket so she doesn’t think I’m trying to bail. “I’ll be back.”
She takes a sip and motions for me to go ahead.
I step away to the restroom area where it’s a bit quieter, and answer the phone with a sharp, “Yes?”
“Hi, Mr. Blackwood, I’m sorry to bother you.” On the other end, my PA, Jasmine, sounds nervous. I know if she’s calling, it’s important because I’ve been clear with my staff about reaching out after my work hours.
“It’s fine, Jasmine. What’s going on?”
She’s learned that another—undisclosed—company has expressed interest in acquiring a stake in Westerlyn, and she wants to ensure I have the information in case I decide to respond and possibly up my offer tomorrow. Apparently, word about my purchase of half the shares has spread like wildfire, fueling the eagerness of competitors to throw a wrench into my future plans. I’ve faced similar situations before.
Definitely not something that really constitutes an emergency phone call, but there’s no use dragging out the conversation. There’s a woman waiting for me at the bar.
After instructing her to investigate the identity of the interested party, I end the call.
The second I turn around, I almost collide with said woman.
“I’ve decided.” She beams at me, all happy, swirling her almost-empty cocktail glass.
Raising my eyebrow and noting how close she’s standing, I lean my shoulder against the wall. “Oh, yeah? What did you decide?”
My neighbor steps closer.
She slides her hand into my hair and goes up on her tippy toes, likely going for a kiss. Well, trying to go for a kiss. The moment her lips are about to meet mine, she slips and her tits crash into me.
She’s tipsier than I first anticipated.
The nameless brunette giggles and gives me that look.
Part of me isn’t surprised that she’s so brave, audacious even. I mean, this girl’s out here balcony-hopping like it’s a sport.
But, when it comes to post-work fun, I have two principles.
I don’t drink, and I don’t fuck intoxicated girls.
A glass or two is fine, but my neighbor may have indulged a bit too much. She isn’t entirely inebriated, but she’s definitely pushing the boundaries of what I consider an acceptable limit.
I wrap my arm around her waist, steadying her. Plucking the glass from her hand and placing it on a surface next to us, I give her a firm look, my body temperature rising. I’m just about to make my grand exit, suggesting to her that she’s not in the state to make sound decisions, when I feel more of those curves. My dick hardens, pressing into her thigh as she grinds her hips against mine. Next thing I know, she pushes me so my back hits the restroom door, and she reaches behind me for the handle.
Life’s too short for goodbyes, I decide.
I won’t go there with her. But an orgasm won’t hurt anyone.
We stumble in, and she locks the door behind us. As I wrestle for control, she pulls up her tight dress so I can slip my hand underneath while she grabs at my shirt. My palms skim along those smooth thighs, and all I can think about is burying myself between them. With my mouth, with my fingers, doesn’t matter which one. I plan to do both.
My fingers skim her panties, and I smirk when I feel her arousal. Damn. I’ve barely touched her and she’s already wet. Granted, I’m harder than steel. But we’ll get to me. Right now, I want to lose myself in her, needing the distraction.
I slide my hand under the thin fabric, and she gasps, her eyes the color of a deep blue ocean. They flutter closed, and her head falls back against the door, leaving her neck bare and begging for my mouth. I immediately latch onto it, sucking and kissing while my fingers glide through her heat. She’s soft and wet and warm, everything I could want and more. Immediately, her thighs clamp around my wrist, keeping my hand locked in place. My thumb swipes over her clit, making her knees buckle, and she moans. The reaction is so fucking hot that it makes me do it again.
My other hand cradles her jaw, trapping her between me and the door.
All she can do is stand there moaning and writhing. My thumb strokes her cheek until she turns her head, wrapping her lips around it, sucking provocatively and making me think of her mouth around something else. I bet her lips would look perfect around my cock. The image of her on her knees, looking up at me with those blue eyes as I thrust into her mouth is a goddamn glorious visual.
Everything about her is drawing me in. She’s soft and supple. Her sweet, fruity perfume hangs around me like a cloud, making me dizzy. Having her shuddering in my arms is intoxicating. It’s overpowering and makes everything else fade into the background. Fuck, it’s been too long.
I love making a woman whimper with only a few swipes of my fingers. It’s fucking delicious.
But there’s something about my neighbor that’s different. I can’t put my finger on it (no pun intended). Maybe it’s because I’ve seen her naked and know what’s hiding under that dress. Or maybe it’s because she had a bite to her voice a little while ago. She’d been upset I hadn’t remembered her, and yet, she’s here with me, her hips rocking along with my hand.
I need to taste her.
Grabbing the sides of her lace panties, I drag them down as I lower myself onto my knees. Yeah, I like the thought of her being in this position—bare, wet, and eager for my cock—but the urge to taste her is greater. She’s looking down at me with the most heated gaze as I slide her soaked panties into my pocket. Her pupils are wide, pink lips swollen.
I throw her a wink, rumbling, “Lift your dress up and out of the way.”
She promptly follows my order, and I spread her legs. With the tip of my tongue, I give her swollen clit a teasing flick. It’s a move meant to provoke, and considering the way she gasps, I know it’s worked.
I do it again, and again, keeping my touch light.
Each time, her hips shoot forward, seeking, begging for more. That’s when I grant her her wish. I press my mouth to her mound, and her eyes flutter closed.
The moment my tongue swipes through her folds, she stretches against the door with a loud moan.
“Oohhh…”
Her hands bury themselves in my hair, making me softly bite into her heated flesh.
Everything I felt with my hand I can feel with my mouth, though it’s better because now I can taste her. She’s like strawberries and cream, a delightful treat at the end of a fucking busy day.
It’s my turn to close my eyes and lose myself in the experience. I nudge her legs farther apart, giving myself better access to what I want most. I push my tongue into her sweet cunt, grunting as her walls flutter around it.
I think of doing this back at my place, how she’d look spread out on my bed, panting and begging for more. My dick is pressed to my zipper, impatient to feel the tight heat of her.
“More, please, more,” she mewls, hips rocking back and forth like they did when my fingers were inside her. “I’m on birth control.”
My mouth is too preoccupied to reply, though I can’t help enjoying how needy and desperate she is. She’s going to make a fantastic lay. I can tell.
But not tonight.
Tonight is just foreplay. With that thought, my lips close around her sensitive nub, sucking in her clit, and her gasp turns into a long-drawn-out moan when I slide my fingers inside her again.
It doesn’t take her very long after that. Within seconds, she’s grinding hard against my mouth and hand, tugging on my hair as she tries to let me know what’s about to happen. I’m ready for it.
She lets out a cry. When her body locks into place, thighs clamping down on my ears, I tease her sensitive clit, eagerly working her through her climax.
She slumps back and lets me go.
I only draw away because my cell vibrates in my back pocket. With determination, I silence the devil on my shoulder, urging me to take her hard and fast, and make her realize that while I may not have recognized her face, she’s never going to forget mine.
When I stand, I gently smooth her dress, which is bunched around her waist, down over her hips, ending the show.
“What…no, please.”
She begins undoing my belt, and my phone starts to buzz—again.
Shit.
“Ignore it,” she urges, her lips going for my throat.
She attempts to yank me into a filthy kiss, but I stop her. Given the insistent phone call, I know it can only be a work-related emergency, and I don’t have time for explanations. I reach down and stop her, gently pushing her hands away.
“Can’t.” Reaching into my pocket, I draw out my phone and notice that it’s a call from Connor.
“I’m sure I can persuade you.”
The thing is, she absolutely could, if circumstances were different. What little we’ve done together is enough for me to want more. I’m tempted to accept her offer. But dealing with the wrath of a tipsy lady who, in her sober moment, recognizes that I’m not prepared to commit is a precarious storm I’m not sure I’m ready to step into.
“Any other time, sweetheart, I’d be all about it. But I have to take this. You take a moment to freshen up, and I’ll drive you home.”
Without waiting for a response, I push past her and out the door.
“How much did she have?” I ask the bartender.
“Two Strawberry Starlet cocktails.”
Only two? Clearly she’s not used to alcohol. I grab my jacket and throw down money for our drinks. With that handled, I step out to call Connor. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nuthin’. Just lettin’ you know I’ve headed out with the blonde from the bar. That pretty pussy is about to eat me dick up to me balls. Thought you’d like to know.”
“That’s it? That’s why you fucking called? Send a message next time.”
“Wanted to deliver the visual myself since you fucked off without me anyway. Where’d you end up?”
“Good night, Connor.” I end the call without another word.
Dick.