Page 2

Yeah, sad shit. But I can do a one-night stand. Taste the beauty life has for others for one blissful night and then I can go back to the shadows.

She tucks a strand of dark hair behind her ear. Small, absent, a gesture she makes without knowing she's doing it. The move exposes the curve of her throat, the soft dip above her collarbone, and a single bead of rain sliding down her skin toward the neckline of that red dress. My mouth goes dry watching its path. I want to catch it with my tongue, trace the line it leaves behind, and find out if her skin tastes as sweet as the vanilla rolling off her every time she shifts on that stool. The warmth of her scent reaches me three seats away and settles low in my gut, mixing with the bourbon and turning into a hunger that has nothing to do with alcohol.

Unable to keep myself from her, I decide to close the distance between us. Three steps is all it takes for me to destroy twenty years of discipline.

I step up beside her and the scent of vanilla and warm apples mixed with rain fills my lungs, adding to the chaos swirling inside my head. I pull it in so deep my chest aches from holding it there. This close, I can see the tiny water droplets glistening across her bare shoulders, the rise and fall of her breathing, the faint trace of red lipstick on the rim of her whiskey glass. My fingers twitch at my side. I’m standing close enough to graze the bare skin of her arm without moving more than an inch. I calculate exits for a living. I have never once walked into a room without knowing exactly how to walk back out. Right now, standing in the gravity of this woman's scent with heat crawling up the back of my neck, I can't remember where the door is. And I don't care.

She raises those beautiful green eyes to meet mine and hand to God, my heart disconnects from the reality of my life. My cock pulses and I think about what those cherry red lips of hers on mine would taste like.

Like fucking heaven, is what.

Deep murmurs ripple through the room, but I let the noise of the other men drop away.

I watch her closely and do my damndest to keep my expression neutral and not give away the fact that I'm madly in lust with the woman.

Maybe I’m a coward for keeping my emotions locked away. Perhaps it would be better for her and me if I simply return to my seat and keep my desires to myself.

Then I wouldn’t ruin another lovely soul’s life.

Memories I’ve buried resurface.

She passes the tip of her tongue over the plumpness of her bottom lip and right then I know for a fact that I don’t give a fuck if I ruin her life or mine.

I need to feel her in my arms. Feel her body taking me. Feel her sweetness dripping over my cock as she takes every hard inch of my throbbing length.

"You look like you're having a worse night than me. Mind if I join you?" I slide onto the stool to her right. A bold move—inappropriate—without her invitation, but I’m not one to ask permission in most cases.

I keep my voice cool, but it’s hard when the mere sight of the beauty shoots fire through my veins.

She turns her head and lifts her lashes, revealing the richness of her green irises. The corner of her mouth lifts just enough to crack loose a pressure in my chest that makes breathing hard. She shifts on her stool, turning her body toward me, and her knee brushes the outside of my thigh. The contact is light, barely there, but my skin registers it through the fabric of my pants and the jolt of electricity is instant. She crosses one leg over the other and the hem of that red dress rides up just enough to pull my gaze down the smooth line of her thigh before I drag it back to her face.

"That depends. How bad is your night?" Her lips curve softly around her question, beckoning me closer. I know when I finally taste those lips tonight, they’ll be the key to heaven I’ve always looked for.

I lean in closer until I can feel the warmth of her body caresses against mine. "Better now." I signal the bartender for another round. "But the bourbon in this place is only decent, so my standards aren't high."

A warm red brushes over the slope of her cheeks. She gives a soft laugh that reaches into my chest and anchors me to the spot. I haven’t heard such sweetness in a long time. Genuine sweetness, that is.

She was gorgeous from three stools over. This close, the woman glows with the essence of a goddess.

Her eyes slide over me in a hungry yet bashful way. "Decent is generous. I've had smoother whiskey from a gas station." Her amused voice has my gaze falling to the tilt of her lips once again.

"And yet here you are." I take a deep breath, trying to still my pulse and trying to will my cock back down.

"And yet here I am." She raises her glass and I meet it with mine. The rims clink, a small sound that gets swallowed by the music, and we both drink. Whiskey burns down my throat while her smile softens the second our gazes reconnect. She sets her glass down and her fingers slide across the bar top until they come to rest over my hand. Warm, soft, deliberate. My pulse jumps hard enough that she has to feel it under her fingertips.

Her blush deepens for the span of a heartbeat. "I’m sorry. I don’t do this kind of thing. I’m a horrible flirt and small talk isn’t my best skill set.”

She has no clue how much of a turn on that makes her. My cock throbs at her innocence.

Now it’s my turn to grin. “You mean picking up strangers in a bar?” I keep my voice low enough that no one can overhear. The last thing I want to do is embarrass the beauty. “You don’t need a skill for that, just a need.”

“I guess you’re right.” Her gaze drops to where she traces the rim of her glass with one finger. “I must come off as a complete novice. I…just…I...”

I reach between us and lift her chin until I have those pretty greens on me again.

“You what? Need the touch of a lover? There’s no shame in that. Don’t hide what you want from me, sweetness. You’re too beautiful to be ashamed of having needs.”

“How did you know?”