Lola's Legacy

Chapter One

The club is packed with people, but he stands out from the crowd. He has a confident stride, a leather jacket, and a smirk on his face that makes my panties melt. His skin is as pale as the moonlight, and his eyes are the most startling shade of ice-blue. And they are aimed at me.

He moves through the crowd without a care in the world. People part out of his way like he”s a rock star or a god. He”s sex incarnate, and every step he takes draws my eyes down his body like a physical caress.

And he”s walking toward me.

The club has gotten louder, and I can feel the bass throbbing in my ears. It thuds with each beat of my heart and draws a flush to my cheeks. In my mind, there are no lights except for a spotlight that is directly in the path of this mystery man. Everyone else is faded into blackness, but not him. His presence fills the entire place, and I don”t dare look away from his advance.

”Earth to Lola,” one of the waitresses says as she waves her hand in front of my face.

I snap out of my fantasy, shake my head, and blink a few times to clear my mind. The mystery man is gone, and the lights are back on in the club.

”I”m sorry, I was... uh... spacing out for a second,” I apologize to the waitress, who is leaning against the bar beside me. She”s new to this particular establishment, but Don, the owner, raves about her experience. Her name tag says Mindy, and while I don”t usually make it a point to remember the girls” names since most of them are gone within a week, I like this one. She might cut it.

”The orders are piling up,” she comments, pointing at the printer behind the bar that is currently spitting out papers at an alarming rate. ”You want me to jump back there and give you a hand?”

”You”ve got it,” I say with a smile and reach out to collect the papers from the printer. ”These are all yours, new girl.”

”No problem,” Mindy replies, and she steps behind the bar and slips between me and the two other bartenders. ”I”ll take care of these.”

Mindy picks up some glasses and begins to pour some beers from the tap. She”s confident in her abilities, and I watch her for a minute to see if she is actually as good as she claims to be. It looks like our boss is right about her. She knows her shit.

”That was quick,” I laugh. ”You need your skills behind the bar, not in front of it.”

”What can I say?” she giggles and shrugs her shoulders. ”I”ve been mixing drinks since I was a teenager.”

”Good to know.” I grin and begin to sort through the orders in front of me. ”I”ll talk to Don and see if we can get you moved over. He”s a reasonable guy.”

”Awesome,” Mindy replies, and then she gestures to the full glasses. ”Where do you want these?”

”Take those to table five and those to the group outside,” I instruct before I look down at the paper in my hand.

”Will do, boss.” Mindy smirks and picks up the drinks.

”Hey, I”m not the boss,” I call after her.

”You ought to be.” She winks, and then she turns and carries the drinks to the appropriate tables.

I sigh as I watch her go. It”s nice to have another competent employee for a change. I glance down at the ticket in my hand and start making the Manhattan printed on it, and when I look back up, he”s there.

The mystery man.

He leans casually against the bar with his hip cocked and one elbow resting on the polished wood. His crystal blue eyes lock onto mine, and I can”t look away. It”s like he”s holding me in place with nothing more than his gaze, and all I can do is stare back at him.

”Good evening,” he drawls.

His voice is dark and rich. It warms my skin like an expensive whiskey and leaves my thighs tingling.

”Hi,” I manage to breathe, and then I feel the burn of my cheeks when I realize how out of character that is for me. I am the one who men are breathless for, not the other way around. I”m not the blushing, simpering type of girl.

At least, that was what I always thought.

”Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he points at the Manhattan in front of me.

I”m about to make a smart-ass comment about how he can”t possibly afford the kinds of drinks I like, but then I remember the tiny little thing called my job. I should really get on that.

”Sure,” I reply. ”You can get me whatever you”re having.”

”That”s a dangerous game to play with me,” he teases, and his deep voice is like silk against my skin. ”Especially for a human.”

”Oh yeah?” I cock one eyebrow. ”Why is that?”

”You don”t know what you are getting yourself into, Lola,” he purrs as he reaches across the bar and straightens my name tag. ”Or do you?”

I arch my eyebrow in challenge and give him a once-over, letting him know that I think I”m up to the task. ”You know my name, but I don”t know yours,” I pout and lean my elbows on the bar. ”That”s not fair.”

”Drake,” he says just before he runs his tongue along his bottom lip and offers me a flirty wink.

”Well, Drake,” I start as I lean further toward him, ”what can I make you?”

”Negroni, if you please. Do not forget to make one for yourself.”

”Negroni?” I echo. ”Wow. Classic. Fancy. Is it your favorite?”

”Among others,” he replies as he leans back again and drums his fingers against the bar top. ”I like that you didn”t tell me you don”t drink while at work.”

”Why would I turn down a free drink?” I shrug and turn to reach for the ingredients.

I can feel his eyes on my backside as I bend over the bar, so I take my time picking out the Campari and sweet vermouth, then I slowly measure out a triple shot of gin. The ice clinks in the shaker, and I begin to mix the drink in front of me. I tilt my head to one side, exposing my neck, and the chill of the air conditioner raises goosebumps on my bare skin. I”ve already captured his attention, but now I want to keep it.

When I”m satisfied with the cocktail, I shake the excess off the ice and strain the blood-red liquid into a lowball glass. I set the drink on the bar top and move to mix myself a Negroni as well. When I”m finished, I hand him his drink and take a sip of mine.

”It is very good,” he praises. ”Well made.”

”Thanks.” I smile and raise my glass to his. ”And you get the honor of getting the last drink I make tonight. My shift”s over.”

”My lucky night.” He smirks before he takes a long draw from it. ”I don”t suppose I could talk you into sticking around after you clock out? Perhaps just for a dance or two?”

”I don”t know,” I tease. ”My schedule usually gets pretty jam-packed after midnight. I”ll have to check my calendar.”

”Well, I”ll be waiting here with bated breath. I hope you make room for me.” He winks and finishes off his drink.

”Maybe,” I reply noncommittally. ”If you”re good.”

I flash him a wicked grin, and then I toss my apron behind the bar and rush back to my locker in the office. My stomach is fluttering, and my heart is pounding. This is not how I normally act. Sure, I flirt with customers all the time. I work for tips, after all, but I”m actually considering going back out there with this one.

Maybe it”s the Negroni talking, but I don”t think I have it in me to reject him. There”s something about him that”s different, something that”s drawing me to him. It”s an itch that I”m desperate to scratch, but I need to remember that I don”t know this guy from Adam. He could be an axe murderer or a kidnapper or any number of terrible things, but at this moment, I can”t bring myself to care.

I tear off my work shirt and go back out into the club in a black tank top and jeans, and there he is, sitting right where I left him. His elbows are on the bar top, and he”s leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. There is another Negroni waiting for me on the bar beside him, and he has a smug grin on his face like he knew I would come back to him.

And goddammit if he wasn”t right.

”You waited,” I beam as I slide onto the barstool beside him.

”Of course I did,” he replies smoothly as he straightens up and swirls his drink. ”But don”t get too comfortable. I”m going to need you to dance with me soon.”

”You”re awfully presumptuous,” I snort and take a sip of my Negroni.

”Perhaps, but I”m never wrong.”

”Care to wager on that?”

”I do love a challenge.” He grins as he narrows his icy eyes and tilts his head to one side. Without missing a beat, he holds out his hand, expecting me to take it.

I give him a curious look, and though I have no idea why, I reach out to slip my palm against his like I”m in a trance. The moment our skin touches, a spark ignites between us. It feels like little bolts of lightning dancing along my skin, and my breath catches in my throat. He notices the reaction and gives me a knowing smirk, but I just roll my eyes and try to shake off whatever the hell that was.

”Where are you taking me?” I ask, not really caring what the answer is as long as I”m going with him.

”To heaven, my pet,” he replies and nods toward the dance floor. ”I”m taking you to heaven.”

He slips off the stool, and I follow suit without another word. He”s absolutely hypnotic, and my feet feel like they are floating above the ground as we make our way toward the crowd. I can feel eyes on me as we move through the throngs of people, but none of them matter. All that matters is him.

When we get to the middle of the dance floor, he stops and turns toward me. A sultry song begins to play, and he drapes one arm around my waist, pulling me close, but there”s no heat coming off his body. Just a calming, alluring coolness that wraps around and creeps along my skin. He runs his hand up my back and tangles his fingers in my hair before he pulls my face closer to his, and a shiver runs down my spine as his lips graze my earlobe.

I smile up at him and lay my hands on his shoulders before he starts to sway his hips in time with the beat of the music. It”s slow and seductive, and I match his movements perfectly. He spins me around and presses his chest against my back. My hair falls down my neck and tickles my skin as he begins to grind against me. I arch my back to mold myself to him and close my eyes as his hands wrap around my waist and wander down my stomach.

Arousal stirs deep in my core, and I can feel his body respond to it. He slides one hand over my bare shoulder as the other drifts down my thigh, and he presses his face against my neck. His cool breath gives me goosebumps, and it feels like his fingers are leaving trails of frost wherever they touch.

The friction between our bodies builds, and the sensation is euphoric. Before I can stop myself, I spin back around to face him and take his lips in a fiery kiss. His tongue is in my mouth at once, and the taste of him is more intoxicating than any cocktail I have ever mixed. There is a hint of gin lingering on it, and it goes straight to my head.

”Shall we take this somewhere else?” he mumbles against my lips, and he cups the side of my face in his hand.

”Yes,” I breathe without hesitation. ”Yes, please.”