Roxanne stares after Vi and Larsen, as if she wants to shout take me with you.
“Alone at last.” I can't ignore the chance to tease her.
She sucks down the rest of her drink, this time with no problem. “So, what do you do for work?” I ask.
She jerks, as if she’s been kicked underneath the table.
“You all right, there?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She forces a stiff smile, awkwardly baring her teeth like a donkey. Albeit, she might be the cutest donkey I’ve ever seen.
“You never answered my question about your work,” I remind her.
“Oh. Uh. Umm… I own my own business.”
“And what does said business involve?” I prod, eager to know more about this beautiful woman.
“Nothing exciting.” She fidgets with her bracelets, twisting them around her narrow wrist.
“I’ll be the judge of that. That is, if you ever share the details with me.” I smile.
She laughs, but it’s abrupt and sharp, not like her real one. I had the pleasure of hearing her genuine laugh earlier today when she was joking around with her friends. Husky and sexy, the sound stirred up images of us naked and rolling between the sheets, giving me a semi. And as a result, it might be my newest life goal to hear the throaty sound again when we’re both naked and in my bed. Or her bed. I’m not picky.
“I have an investigation firm,” she finally reveals.
I definitely wasn’t expecting her to say that. “Do you mean private investigations?”
“Yes, amongst other things,” she offers without clarifying.
Why is she being so friggin’ cryptic? Getting her to talk about herself is like prying the lid off Pandora’s Box. Challenge fucking accepted.
“Where’s your business located?” I’m not about to stop the questions. I’m pushing for as much information as possible.
“Brookline. Comm Ave., more specifically.”
I let out a whistle. “That’s a great location. How did you manage that one? I have friends who’ve been looking for real estate there for years and have had no luck.”
She shrugs one golden shoulder. “I’m lucky, I guess. I found space the first day I began searching for a place to rent.”
“If you ever need to renovate, let me know. Rex and I will be glad to take care of it for you. We’ll even give you the friend's discount.”
“Thanks. That’s nice of you. I’ll keep you guys in mind if I do.”
“And to think I’m offering before you’ve even slept with me.” I wink.
She scoffs. “Is this how you reel in new business? Do you dangle your dick, hoping they bite in more ways than one?”
I cover my zipper. “Ouch. No biting. Unless you want to bite my neck. I’m all for that.”
“Gross. No, thanks. Has it ever occurred to you to try a little less? You’re overselling.”
“You think?”
She nods. “I know. Look, you’re a good-looking guy, and you seem intelligent enough. I’m sure you don’t need to resort to cheesy, trite pickup lines to get laid.”
I imagine raising and pumping my fist. She thinks I’m good-looking. “You’re right. I don’t usually have to say much.”
She tips her head, studying me. “Then why are you?”
“You’re not blinded by my good looks. I’m trying to win you over.”
She rolls her eyes. “With predictable come-ons?”
“No, with charm.”
“I’m pretty sure you have a twisted version of being charming.”
“What kind of things do you consider charming?”
She rolls her lips inward as she thinks about my question. “There are a lot of actions that fall under that category. Someone who opens doors for me or pulls out my chair.”
“I opened the door for you. And I would’ve pulled out the stool for you if I hadn’t been getting our drinks.”
“It’s more than that.” She waves her hand, dismissing my reply. “Charming can also be when a man listens when I’m speaking and actually seems to care what I’m saying.”
“I hate to toot my own horn, but I’m listening, and I’m definitely interested.”
She laughs. “Yeah, humility seems to be your strong suit.”
“Did I mention I love a woman who can use sarcasm well?”
“Have you ever met a woman you didn’t like?” she asks coolly.
“Of course. I’m a choosy motherfucker about who I spend time with. Especially outside of bed.”
“Does that mean you don’t mind screwing someone, even if you don’t like them as a person?” she questions.
“Haven’t you ever had sex with someone you didn’t really like but you were attracted to?”
“Nope. I’m not saying I only sleep with guys who are relationship material, because I’m not interested in that. That being said, I don’t sleep with guys who are jerks either.”
So, she’s not interested in a relationship? This woman is a dream come true. She gets more perfect with each minute we spend together. Now, I need to find a way to get her under me tonight.
Or over me.
Or in front of me.
I’m not choosy.
Rocky pulls one of the cherries from her glass and plucks the fruit from the stem with her teeth. She chews slowly, licking her lips when she’s done.
“Can I have your cherry?” I ask in a teasing tone.
“You’re a little late for that,” she drolls, and I laugh. “And who says I want to share?”
“You’ve still got two,” I point out.
“There’s a reason why I order my drinks with extra cherries.”
“In case anyone else wants one?”
“Not even close, but here.” She holds the cherry in front of me, dangling by the stem. Leaning forward, I capture the dark red fruit between my lips, tearing it from the stem.
Rocky slips the stem into her mouth, and I wonder what the hell she’s doing. Does she eat that part too?
I don’t have to wonder for long. After about ten seconds, she expels the object from between her lips using her tongue. Grabbing it between two fingertips, she holds the stem up between us—it’s fucking tied in a knot.
Oh, Christ. “That’s an impressive party trick you’ve got there.”
She smiles. “Some people are good with their hands…” she trails off, leaving me to finish the statement for her.
And some are good with their tongue.
And now I’m hard as a rock and wishing we were alone. I want—I need—to experience those tongue skills firsthand. Since there’s no way for that to happen right now, I down the rest of my beer, hoping the cold liquid will cool off my libido too.
Placing the empty bottle on the table, I avoid looking at Rocky. Instead, I observe Larsen and Vi, heads bent together, deep in conversation since they returned with the next round. Looks like they’re hitting it off. I hate to interrupt, but I need a distraction, so I ask, “How do you guys feel about moving to one of the back rooms? There are comfortable couches, and my brother and I can smoke cigars.”
Violet answers first. “I’m fine with that.”