5. Cat

Chapter 5

Cat

I love the feel of his hands on my waist and lower back. I can’t believe that I’ve so easily forgotten that I’ve sworn off getting involved with men after all the shit I’ve been through. With his sweet touches and full promises, I know I need to distance myself. When I’m able to get a few clear thoughts breaking through the haze, I know I’ve got to back off and get away from Saint. He’s sexy, funny, strong, and intoxicating. He’s the kind of guy that just one night with him would not be enough. I would never get enough of him; he’s that potent. No wonder Barbie was like a squeak toy in a Chihuahua’s mouth about Saint returning. I get it now. If he affects me like this, even though I’ve sworn to not get close, I can imagine what it does to a normal woman that’s looking for a man.

We’re still slow dancing and I’m looking for a way to escape. I know I need to, but it’s also hard to pull away from him. Being held against him with his arms around me makes me feel things that I haven’t felt in a long time. Heck, it makes me feel things I’ve never even felt before. I burrow into him, seeking the safety in his arms. I keep telling myself one more minute, just one more minute in his arms and then I’ll walk away.

He bends down then, his mouth next to my ear. “Where are you going after the bar closes?”

A part of me misses the old Cat. Before, if I felt like this with someone, which I’ve never felt before, but if I did, I would have asked him back to my apartment upstairs. But now the new Cat knows that’s not an option. I don’t know him, and even though he doesn’t seem like the violent type, I’m still not going to chance it. I can’t allow myself to sleep with him—heck, I shouldn’t even be dancing with him.

Instead of answering him, I smile up at him. “What about Barbie? She’s a friend of mine, you know.” I figure if I can get his mind off me and on Barbie, I can find my opening to walk away.

He laughs and the rumble of his chest vibrates against me. “Barbie’s a floater, bouncing from one biker to another.”

I still don’t comment and don’t disagree because I know what he says is true. I’ve never judged Barbie. She likes to go from man to man. I could never do it, but if she likes it that way, why shouldn’t she be able to do it without judgment from me, another woman and her friend?

He stops moving and puts a hand on each side of my face. Most men would just disregard my question, but not him. It’s like he wants to make sure I understand what he’s saying and where he’s coming from. “Has Barbie been waiting around for me to return? Keeping her hands off the other bikers?”

I don’t even have to think about it. I shake my head, a part of me feeling like I’m betraying Barbie but also knowing that what he says is the truth. Barbie does move from man to man.

His big hand strokes down to my neck and holds me there. It’s a possessive hold and I take a deep breath at the feelings it evokes in me.

His voice is gruff, sexy. “I can tell you’re not like that.”

I nod my head at him, lost in his gaze before I finally come to my senses. I pull away slightly. “I, uh, better get back to work.”

He loosens his hold but never really lets me go. I go on my tiptoes. “Thanks for the dance,” I say before I reach up to give him a kiss on the cheek goodnight. What was meant to be innocent, a peck on his cheek to say thanks, turns into something more.

He turns his head and catches my mouth with his. He gives me a kiss so hot that I almost forget why I’m not gonna sleep with him. One hand tightens on my hip and one hand tightens around my neck. I’m being held in his arms, pulled tight against him, and the large swollen bulge between his legs is pressing into my soft belly. His mouth is hot and he tastes like the smooth, dark taste of liquor. The possessive way his mouth devours me has my arms going around his neck, holding on to him. He angles my head to the side, deepening the kiss, and I feel it in every cell of my body. He’s all man, and his power and control takes over the kiss, pushing me to the edge until I’m groaning in his mouth, like I’m begging him for mercy.

When he finally pulls away, we’re both panting. My hand flies up to my mouth, feeling my soft, swollen lips, knowing that I must look like I was just thoroughly kissed.

“Goodnight, honey,” he says and walks away from me stiff-legged. I giggle behind my hand, and even though I thought I did it quietly, he still hears me and turns around. He acts like he’s having trouble walking and I watch as he adjusts himself and waves goodbye. The molten look he gives me tells me he’s letting me off easy. I know that is true because if he had pushed, I don’t know if I would have had the strength to deny him. To deny me.

He leaves with a few of the other guys and I’m left with Stella and Roxanne to finish shutting down the bar.

It’s a little after three before we finally close up and get everything cleaned. Normally, after a night like this, I am exhausted and can barely keep my eyes open. But not tonight. No, there’s a giddy step to my walk and I know what it’s from. Saint. The one man that showed up tonight out of nowhere and has already turned my world upside down. All the promises I’ve made to myself of staying away from men is almost forgotten after only one dance in his arms.

I do my nightly ritual and wash the grime of the bar off my skin. The water sliding down my body and the thoughts in my head of Saint’s arms around me has me groaning, relishing in the hot water and the steam. I put some soap on the sponge and slide it down my belly, between my legs, and jerk at the touch. I’m on fire. I swap the sponge to my other hand, and then use my fingers to separate myself, stroking through my hot, swollen core. Just one dance did this to me. I could bring myself some relief so easily; I’m already like a ticking time bomb. I know that with just a little firm pressure from my finger on my clit, I will explode. The need is there and I want it. But I also know that if I come and associate that with Saint it will not be good for me. I already know it’s going to be hard to get him out of my head. If I’m coming with his name on my lips, I’ll never get rid of him or have the will to stay away from him. No, instead, I release a deep breath, finish washing, and go to bed.

I try to think of any and everything except for him. But every thought goes back to him and that panty-melting kiss.