A very smuttily dressed woman was practically sitting in Smoke’s lap. Her red dress inched a little higher when she lifted her four-inch heel to the rung of his stool and brushed her leg against his. Her painted red nail brushed something from his chest, then stayed there. She was blonde, her hair cascading down her back with perfectly teased curls tickling her jaw. She was made up with more product than a circus clown, and her fake laugh echoed through the bar. Amira felt her claws coming out.
Amira shook her head as the girl laughed again, throwing her head back to expose her slender neck and ample cleavage. Amira’s first thought was to grab the woman by her fake hair and slam her face against the bar. Her fingers trembled with the need to do just that. Her next rational thought was to turn and walk away. If Smoke was the kind of man who’d flirt with another woman while on a date, he certainly wasn’t a man she wanted to know.
Thankfully, the reasonable part of Amira’s brain kicked in before she decided on either choice A or B. Instead, she watched the couple for another moment without either of them knowing she was there.
It was odd for Amira to comprehend what she was feeling as she watched the tense expression on Smoke’s face. He wasn’t happy this woman was invading his space. He was trying to be respectful while at the same time trying to get her off of him. Amira watched as he took the woman’s hand off his chest and he grabbed his drink, closing himself off by turning the slightest bit. He shook his head at the woman who lost some of the brightness of her smile. Was he telling her to go away? Was it just that the woman wasn’t accepting his rejection?
Amira felt joy that he didn’t want the floozy of a woman. She hated that she was shaming another woman, but her animal instinct cried out that Smoke was hers — at least on this night. She refused to think she might want another date, let alone try to make any sort of claim on him. For tonight though, the man was hers, and she decided she’d help him out . . . and have a little bit of fun.
Amira fluffed her hair, then smiled as she stepped forward with confidence. She might not have complete confidence in her femme fatale abilities, but she had confidence in who she was. She was a smart woman who got what she wanted in life — and right then she wanted to reclaim her date.
“Excuse me,” Amira said as she easily slid past the woman and wrapped her arm around Smoke, leaning down and giving him a kiss. “Did my drink come yet? Sorry, I took so long. I was hot and stepped outdoors for a second.”
Smoke looked absolutely shocked for about two seconds at this new flirty woman suddenly clinging to him. Amira understood the confusion since she’d tried to avoid his touch all night. Well, that was before another woman had plastered herself all over him.
Smoke’s confusion quickly turned to understanding as he realized she was saving his butt from the aggressive woman who was most likely glaring daggers at Amira’s back at that moment.
“Yes, it’s here,” he said as he reached out and nearly knocked over the Lemon Drop she’d asked for. She picked up the glass and had a sudden inspiration. Raising the glass to her mouth, she paused, looked straight into his quickly widening eyes, and she seductively licked sugar from the rim of the ice-cold glass. Both of them forgot all about the other woman as Amira felt her gut clutch at the raw need in Smoke’s eyes.
“Amira . . .” he growled in a low voice that sent heat straight to her core.
“Who are you?”
Amira was grateful for the shrill voice of the blonde pulling her from her sexual trance. Amira turned and found the blonde with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, pushing them up so far they were nearly spilling from the tight dress she wore. The woman looked furious. Amira scooted a tad closer to Smoke as his hand gripped her hip, nearly pulling her into his lap.
“Who are you?” Amira asked right back to the woman.
“I’m with this man,” she snapped.
“Um, a bit difficult when he’s already with me,” Amira told her.
“If he’s so great, you shouldn’t have been gone so long. He’s moved on,” the woman told Amira. She felt Smoke tense beside her, and she gave him a brief look, telling him she had this. He relaxed. It was obvious he didn’t like confronting women, but there was no doubt in her mind he wouldn’t allow another woman to disrespect the woman he was with. She liked that.
Amira took her time, looking the woman up and down before meeting her eyes again. “I’m not at all worried about him moving on,” Amira said with a smirk. She had no idea where she was drawing her vixen attitude from, but she was enjoying the act very much. “Now, move along before I get upset. I might not look it, but I’m very strong, and very skilled.” Had she really threatened someone? She felt a thrill at the thought of it. She wasn’t lying either. She’d trained a lot to make sure she’d never be a victim.
The woman’s eyes narrowed, but she recovered quickly. She licked her lips in a practiced move before squeezing her arms a bit more at her sides, making her breasts stand out. They were great breasts, the best money could buy, Amira thought.
She leaned to the side, ensuring Smoke could see her, and said, “I’ll be at the other side of the bar. When you get sick of this woman simply playing games and making promises she won’t follow through on, come find me. I’ll rock your world all . . . night . . . long.” She didn’t give Amira or Smoke time to comment on her bold statement before she turned and walked away. Her dress barely covered her very curvy ass. How did some women have such little pride? Why should a man respect them when they didn’t respect themselves? Amira would rather be stodgy than cavalier and willing to sell herself.
“You showed up just in time. My mom taught me to respect all women at all times, but I was beginning to lose patience with that one,” Smoke said. He hadn’t released his hold on Amira’s hip, and she liked it. She knew the game was up and she should pull away, but it was more difficult to do than she’d have thought.
“You looked very nervous as she plastered herself over you, so I figured I’d play the knight in shining armor,” Amira said over her shoulder, their faces only inches apart. She tried pulling away, but he wasn’t loosening his hold. She wasn’t really trying very hard either.
“I can honestly say I’ve never had a woman save me before,” Smoke said. “I’ve worked with some pretty bad-ass women, but not one has come riding in to save the day.”
Amira laughed before she lifted her glass and took another sip of her drink. The night really was great, and it kept getting better. What did that mean? She set her drink on the bar, then got captured by the hungry look in Smoke’s gaze. His fingers shifted on her lower back, sending more tingles down her spine as her leg brushed against his.
Sex. Sex. Sex.
That word flashed through her mind over and over again. She hadn’t had sex in so many years she honestly couldn’t remember when she’d last had it. Everything within her was screaming for release. Why this man? There was no way she could have sex with this man without it getting messy. Or could she? He was a player after all. Wasn’t he the type of man to love them and leave them? If that were the case, and she was okay with a one-night stand, what was the harm in it?