Chapter 2
TWO
STEPHEN
How can I refuse a lady’s offer? I stare down at the pretty little redhead—Pumpkin, I decide to call her. Even in the middle of July, she looks like a woman who suits fall.
I bet she wears those ridiculous sweaters with Rudolph on the front.
Although tonight her little black dress doesn’t look wholesome at all. It looks like a little piece of cloth I’d like to remove with my teeth. And after hearing her conversation with her friend, that possibility might just be the perfect way to top off what’s already a good night.
Especially with my brother’s marriage to Briar.
I gesture to the barman, who, of course, works for Moretti Global, since this nightclub is part of our real estate portfolio, among the many others we own in the city.
Not that this woman seems to know who I am, which is perfect for me. I don’t like women chasing me because of what I can offer them—money, power—even if that power has a dirty little history we’d all like to forget.
The low amber lights above the bar cast a warm glow across the counter, catching the shine of bottles and glassware.
“Another beer?” the barman asks.
“Yeah, thanks.” He slides my drink across the bar before going off to serve others. “So,” I say, turning toward Pumpkin. “About this dilemma of yours. Who is the guy you think won’t allow you to walk tomorrow? Consider me intrigued.”
She goes bright red, her eyes wide and clear as they look up at me.
Green— the greenest eyes—reminding me of Ireland, a place close to my heart, simply because it isn’t the craziness and busyness of this city.
Which I also love, but my cottage in County Cork does keep me sane whenever I need to get away.
She bites her lip, and I can see she’s hesitating. The weight behind that trepidation makes me even more curious. Maybe it’s me she’s been ogling and hoping to be the one to fuck her. I’d be more than willing to make her walk tomorrow a little less comfortable.
“Actually, it’s you.”
I raise my brows, surprised she would out herself right away.
I thought she would play it a little less forward and tell me it’s someone else.
The idea of her fucking any other rando in the club makes my lip curl, and I take a sip of beer to remind myself this woman is a stranger.
Not someone I know or care for. I sure as fuck shouldn’t give two shits whom she fucks.
“You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk? Are we clear on the rules?”
It’s her turn to choke on her drink, which looks like pop. “Is that vodka and orange? I think your drink stepped out of the nineties.”
A smile breaks over her plump lips, and I grind my teeth, unable now to not think about what they would look like wrapped around my cock. After all, she’s brought up the conversation regarding sex. It’s no wonder my mind has well and truly landed in the gutter.
“I like vodka and orange. I’m not a big drinker.”
I nod and wait for her to answer my first question. When she doesn’t, I ask again. “So, about us fucking. You in?”
Her attention dips to my chest, and like a physical caress, moves up my body. I see her eyes narrow on my tats, on my shoulders, before she raises her pretty face to mine. She’s interested and eager—I can see it in her features—but will she act on those emotions?
I lean down, clasp her about her nape, and wrench her against me.
She slams into me, her breasts pressing hard against my chest, making my cock hard.
I dip my head, give her a chance to pull away, to protest, before I kiss the fuck out of those sweet lips that I’ve been wanting against mine for the past ten minutes.
She doesn’t push me away.
Perfect. My cue.
She tastes like vodka and morning juice—sour, and yet I know she’ll be sweet.
Our tongues tangle, and I hear her moan, her body molding to my every muscle.
I reach down and clasp her ass, lift her against my cock, and kiss her deep while I grind her against me.
She relents, goes limp, her fingers tangling into my hair, fisting my locks and pinning me against her.
I’m not going anywhere—unless it’s in a car where I can get her alone and fuck the shit out of this Pumpkin.
I pull back and move away, picking up my beer—anything but to reach for her again and lift her onto the bar and eat her sweet pussy in front of everyone. I know she’s wet for me; I can almost smell her desire, and it’s a fragrance close to my heart.
Somewhere behind us, the DJ shifts tracks, the beat dropping heavier and making the crowd erupt in cheers.
She stares at me, a little confused, and I grin, taking a deep swig of my drink. “You okay, Pumpkin? You seem a little dazed, but since you were hesitating, I thought a kiss might help you make up your mind a little quicker. I’m eager to start if you are.”
“I’m Dallen.”
I chuckle, having not asked her name, and yet I can’t help it. In her confusion, she thinks I may want to know. Of course I do, but it isn’t essential information. I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Dallen. I’m Stephen.”
“Okay, great.” She reaches for her drink and downs it with one swallow. “Now that we’re introduced, let’s fuck.”