I use my cash for a cheap black pair. It’s not the most amazing fashion statement, but neither am I at the moment. I’d only planned on a coffee, so I’m super casual in my favorite jeans and a plain white T-shirt. But it’s a V-neck, and it’s just a little snug. I consider that a plus.
I head back to the Cask & Barrel, then hit the ladies’ room first thing. I unhook my bra from the back, wiggle it out through the sleeves, then toss it in the trash. It’s the cheap kind that shows up in the sales bins at Walmart, so I don’t mind the sacrifice.
I stand sideways, check my profile in the mirror, and give myself a mental thumbs-up. Now that my girls aren’t squashed, I’m filling out the tee rather nicely. Even better, my nipples are hard and visible against the cotton, which is what I’m really going for. Because I’m not here to flirt and play games over four rounds of drinks.
One bourbon max to loosen me up, and then I want what I want. I don’t know a thing about catching ants with honey, but over the years, I’ve learned very well how to quickly catch a man. Especially if all I want is a man to use for the night. Or even for an hour. Or fifteen quick minutes.
To be honest, I don’t even need the bourbon tonight. I’m buzzing already. And it’s all because of Alex. Devlin. Whoever the fuck he is.
I don’t understand any of this. Why he’s someone else. Why he walked away without a word to me. How any of this happened. It’s crazy, and my head is pounding from the sheer magnitude of this revelation.
He thinks he can just waltz back into my life and send me reeling? That he can play games? That he can spy on me?
That he can pop up in the night like a spook in a horror movie and send my emotions reeling?
No. No way.
This is the guy who whispered that he loved me. That he would take care of me. Who kissed me so gently. Who made me believe for one night that my world hadn’t completely shattered. But it was all a lie. Because he was the one who dealt the final blow and took every last thing from me.
So fuck him. For that matter, forget him.
And that’s exactly what I intend to do tonight. I’m going to fuck Alex Leto right out of my mind. I just need to find the right guy to help me with that.
In the end, it doesn’t take long. It never does. Very few men come by themselves to a bar if they aren’t looking to get laid. They might say they’re coming to watch the game or chat with the bartender or just chill after work, but that’s never the truth, not even if they think it is.
I take a seat by a blond lawyer-type nursing a Gin and Tonic as he keeps one eye on the TV. At least until I’m settled on the stool. Then his full attention shifts to me.
All it takes is a friendly smile and some casual banter. Throw in a few provocative sucks on a maraschino cherry, and that’s pretty much a slam dunk. Soon enough Mr. GT pays for both our rounds, then leads me out the door and toward his car. It’s a short walk to a paid lot, but at past eleven on a Thursday, there are only a few cars still here.
His is in the back, a black BMW tucked into a shadowy corner of the lot. Nice.
His hand had been casually possessive on my arm, but now he removes it to reach into his pocket for his keys. The car chirps as the doors unlocks. “I don’t live far.”
“What a coincidence. Neither do I.”
He grins. He’s clean-shaven with broad shoulders and strong hands. I could do worse. “Come to my place. You won’t regret it. I have a view, a well-stocked bar, and nowhere I have to be in the morning.”
“Tempting,” I say, though I’m not tempted at all. I’m not going to his place. That’s not what I want. I’m craving danger. And I want something a damn sight more visceral than me dodging pleas that we exchange numbers in the morning.
No, what I want is something edgy. The rush from pushing the envelope. The danger of possibly getting caught.
I tilt my head and bite my lower lip as I move toward his car, then lean casually against the trunk. “Convince me why I should?” I rub my fingertips lightly over my breast, then casually brush my nipple. “A smart woman always tries before she buys.”
Even in the dim light, I can see his throat move as he swallows, and it’s like a drug to me. Because I’m the one calling the shots now. I’m the one in control.
“You do seem like a very smart woman,” he says, taking a long step toward me. He puts his hands on my knees, then roughly pushes my legs apart.
“Yes,” I gasp as he eases closer, so that my thighs press against his hips and his hand cups me through my jeans.
“A smarter woman would have worn a skirt.”
“A clever man will find a solution,” I counter, grabbing his tie to tug his mouth down to mine. He’s not a great kisser, but that’s okay. This isn’t about romance or even passion. But it’s raw and hot, and that’s what I crave. Something hot enough and wild enough to burn away my thoughts and regrets. Something I started, and that I’ll finish on my terms, and then walk the fuck away.
“More,” I demand, grabbing his hand and putting it on the fly of my jeans. He doesn’t need any additional encouragement, and soon enough he has the zipper down and his fingers sliding inside, teasing my clit over the satin of my panties as his other hand frees my breast and plays with my nipple.
I arch back, closing my eyes as he moves his mouth to my breast. I want to lose myself to the sensations he’s bringing. I want to find that sweet spot of forbidden pleasure, but, dammit, right now all I feel is touch and pressure and the wet suckling of his mouth. There’s no electricity. No fiery threads of awareness. No heat arrowing straight for my core.
I want to be fucked. I want to be pushed into that void where sense and reason disappear and all you feel is raw, wild passion. I want it, but it’s not happening. Because it’s not anonymous pleasure I’m thinking of now. It’s Alex.
Goddamn him to hell, now he’s even ruined this for me.
Light arcs over us as a car enters the lot, but I just ignore it, holding Mr. GT’s head in place on my breast, because maybe this extra bit of risk will finally, finally send me spiraling up to that magical, mindless place I’m so desperate to reach.
He pulls back, meeting my eyes, and I can see that even if I haven’t hit nirvana yet, he damn sure has. I can tell from the heat in his eyes that he’s never done anything like this before, and I’m like a goddess to him right now.
I should feel a rush of sensual power, but I don’t, dammit, so I grab his hair and pull him to me, trying to force that connection. That explosion. I suck on his lower lip as he groans and slips his finger under my panties. I close my eyes, craving the moment when his fingers enter me, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I gasp as the guy jerks back, and I don’t even have time to wonder what the hell happened before I see Alex holding Mr. GT by the throat, their faces only inches apart. But this isn’t the Alex I knew. This man is coldly dangerous, his eyes like daggers, and simply from the way he’s standing there, he owns the entire goddamn parking lot.
The hell he does.
I shake myself as anger replaces confusion. “What the fuck?” I snap, as GT looks sideways at me, obviously assuming the crazy man with the death grip belongs to me. “Let him go.”
Alex releases him with a shove and my emasculated hook-up lands ignobly on his ass. “Go.”