CHAPTER TWO

I’d come to the bar for a sandwich and a beer. Not even ten minutes in, and I was already buying a drink for the absolute knockout standing on the other side of the room.

I’d promised myself I wasn’t doing this anymore.

No risky sex. No abusing prescription medication. No being a dick for no reason. I was beyond that now; my responsibilities were too large.

A few years ago, Merrick had given me an opportunity to handle one of his biggest projects ever—constructing and running a training camp for his private security business. I’d secured Johansen Enterprises as our business partner despite them being our biggest competitor.

I was taking a huge chance, but I really believed this could work, so that meant I had a lot riding on this, both personally and professionally.

As soon as the ink was dry on the preliminary agreement, I went cold turkey and focused on nothing but work. I quit drinking except for social events, I wasn’t self-medicating with anything I could get my hands on, and I forced myself not to get distracted.

This morning, I’d killed it at training. Lunch was a meeting with an international security agency to barter a deal for some of my men. During the afternoon, I worked out, cleaned my apartment, and ran some errands for training tomorrow. It was almost seven when I got back, showered, and realized my fridge was empty.

So, I took my Kawasaki down the street to a bar that had just opened a few blocks from my downtown apartment. The night was balmy and smelled faintly of the honeysuckle growing on the side of the shops by the bar. I walked across the street, fully intending on grabbing my favorite sandwich—a burger with only the bottom bun, the top just onions draped in cheese.

I got to the bar and, to my horror, it was packed. The bartender told me it would be a minute on the burger, so I ordered a beer and leaned on the counter.

Then, my eyes fell on her across the room.

Fuck, she was…indescribable. Her dark hair was wavy and fell down her upper back. She had brown eyes, a full mouth, and a gorgeous oval face. High cheekbones, a delicate, square jaw with a pointed chin. An elegant neck that flowed down to her shoulders, long arms that ended in ringed fingers and glittering nails.

Her lids fell, like she was shy, but I didn’t believe that. She didn’t look like a woman who doubted herself.

I couldn’t look away. Nothing turned me on more than confidence.

I wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly, I was refilling her drink, and she was waiting for me with wide eyes by the standing table in the corner. When I returned, she took her glass and took a deep sip. Her lipstick left a little purple half-moon behind.

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down again. Was she flirting, or was she nervous?

“So what do you do?” I asked.

Her lids fluttered. “Small talk?”

“I can get right into the real talk if you want?”

“I’d much prefer it.”

“Alright, when was the last time you orgasmed?”

Her jaw dropped, and I realized I was going to fuck up my resolutions tonight to stay focused on just work. Her lips parted and her dark brows arched, as delicate as a butterfly’s wing.

God, she was pretty.

“That is too fast, sir,” she said coolly. “I don’t know you.”

“You wanted to skip the small talk,” I replied. “What do you usually talk about once you’ve discussed the weather?”

“Not…you know.”

I felt my mouth curl into a smile. “Sex?”

She nodded, sending me a hard stare. I stepped closer, and she stepped back until we had moved into the far side of the room, until I had her slender body caged against a table on the back wall. The atmosphere was intimate, and she wasn’t throwing off signals that she wanted me to stop.

In fact, she was leaning in. Her breathtaking face tilted up to mine like she wanted me to get my body closer. I leaned in, and a strand of soft, dark hair fell over her cheek.

A part of me wanted to run my fingers through it.

“Who are you?” I said quietly.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Why haven’t I seen you around?”

She shrugged, stalling her answer by sipping on her margarita. It was effective, because I got completely distracted for a second. Her mouth was soft, firm, and painted mauve. My head spun just looking at it, wondering what it would feel like…wrapped around my…fuck, I needed to stop.

Why, though?

I dragged my mind back. “So where have you been?”

She shrugged, smiling. “Around. Busy.”

“Who’s your crowd?”

She cocked her head, giving me a strange look, like she was trying to figure me out.

“My crowd?”

“Who are you with?” I asked, lowering my voice. “You’re not Welsh.”

She shook her head, her eyes darting over me. “Are…you?”

“Welsh? Yes.”

Her brows shot up. “Oh.”

I leaned in, and this time, she leaned back in. Her body was warm, and I felt it through my shirt, like a siren luring me closer.

“Did you come here alone, Cece?” I whispered.

Her eyes darted over my shoulder, looking for something. “I had friends, but I don’t see them.”

“Are those your friends?”

She followed where I was pointing. The two women I’d seen her with earlier were in the corner, four empty glasses on their table.

She worked her lower lip, like she was debating going back to them. My eyes fell, distracted by her hands. Her fingers held the margarita glass elegantly, like she was having white wine in the country club. Unable to help myself, I leaned a little closer to her dark hair and inhaled.

Soft floral.

“Did you just smell me?” she whispered.

“You smell good,” I said, unashamed. “Like flowers.”

“Hyacinths.”

My palm slid over her elbow, and she didn’t pull back. “Do you want to stay with me? Or go back to your friends?”

She looked over her shoulder. The short, blonde girl giggled and waved at her, clearly urging her to stay. The other girl had her back to us, swiping her phone.

“It’s supposed to be girls’ night,” she said.

“It looks like your friend is giving you a pass,” I pointed out.

Her blonde friend waved more enthusiastically, like she was trying to shoo Cece away.

She laughed nervously. “Just a few drinks.”

I took her hand, slipping my fingers between hers. She was pretty in a way that felt rare and ageless, like a painting or a statue from thousands of years ago, but fresh like her floral perfume.

And guarded. Her dark eyes were very guarded. I’d mistaken it for confidence at first, but now that I was up close, I saw she was out of her element.

I pulled her to the corner, drawing out a stool. She struggled up onto it, flashing her upper thighs. My cock twitched, and I turned towards the bar to hide my half-erection.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

She gave me a coy glance. “Here.”

“This bar?”

This time, she rolled her eyes. “Yes, I live in the bar.”

“You don’t look like you live in a bar,” I said.

She shifted, pinching her heels together for modesty. I couldn’t help it—my eyes lingered at the little tanned valley where her thighs pressed together. Her skin glinted in the low light. Was she wearing body glitter? I was a sucker for body glitter, especially on naked thighs barely covered in short skirts.

I glanced up, and our eyes locked.

“Um…are you looking at something?” she said hoarsely.

My dick twitched.

“Do you want the honest answer?” I leaned a little closer.

She bit her glossed lip, lightly so she didn’t mess up her makeup. “Maybe I do.”

I let my gaze tumble over her curves. My eyes moved back to her face, and her soft mouth parted, the tip of her tongue just visible past her teeth.

Fuck.

“Honestly, you’re beautiful,” I said quietly.

She giggled, twirling a little bit of dark hair around her manicured nail. There was something so electric about the sound; she didn’t look like the sort who usually giggled. She had a serious shell around her…but it was starting to come undone.

Our bodies were so close, I could feel the electricity thrumming between them. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Like…to fuck?”

My brows elevated, and she cocked her head.

“Yeah, I guess. To fuck.”

She emptied her glass and reached for her purse, taking her time applying her lip gloss. She popped the cap back on. Her throat bobbed.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

My eyes skimmed over her face, just below mine. Her dark gaze glittered in the lights. She wanted me to be the one to make the first move.

“Yeah, I’d like to take you home,” I said.

She smiled primly. “Okay, Caden, you take me home.”

Her voice was low, husky, and it shot right to my dick, making it twitch. Before she could change her mind, I took our glasses and her hand and went to the bar to close out my tab.

She bit her lip, chewing hard, but when I glanced back, she just gave me a sultry glance.

Fuck, I’d let this woman step on my face and thank her for it.

I paid and pulled her through the crowd. We stepped onto the hot pavement, and she stumbled in her clunky heels, falling into me. I caught her in my arms.

“Let me take your shoes off,” I murmured.

She shook her head, laughing. “No, I don’t want to step on the dirty sidewalk.”

“I’ll carry you.”

She blushed, shaking her head. “I’ll let you take them off later.”

That was fine with me. I guided her with my hand around her waist to the Kawasaki. Her eyes widened as I unfastened my helmet and fitted it over her head.

“You’ll mess up my hair,” she whispered.

“If we crash and you’re without it, it’ll be really messed up,” I said, strapping it under her chin.

For a second, I was tempted to reach down and kiss her, to bite the pout right off her mouth.

Instead, I got on my motorcycle and helped her settle herself behind me. Her arms wrapped around my waist and her hands locked. Her helmeted head rested on my back as the engine purred and we pulled out onto the street.

Her fingers unlocked then, the nails digging into my stomach and chest, sending heat pulsing down my stomach to my dick. It was already waking up, but now, it was ready to go. She was going to see how much I wanted her the minute I stepped off the bike.

A few minutes later, I pulled into the garage below my apartment and cut the engine. She hopped off, her heels loud on the pavement. I dismounted, but she was too busy trying to get the helmet off to notice the ridge beneath my pants.

“Here, let me,” I said.

She tilted her chin up, and my fingers brushed her skin as I unhooked it and pulled it free.

“Does my hair look silly?” She smoothed it back, running her fingers through the tips.

I shook my head. She pursed her lips, and I wondered if right now was the time to kiss them.

“Do you want to…go upstairs?” she whispered.

“Fuck, yes,” I said, reaching down to take her hand. She clearly wasn’t used to having her hand held, because she tensed like the sensation was unfamiliar each time.

But then she melted, letting me lead her up the stairs to my front door.

“Why do you have all these locks?” she asked.

I glanced over the padlock and the little metal bar above it. “It’s just two.”

“Two plus the deadbolt.”

“Maybe I’m a criminal,” I said lightly.

She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe criminals are my type.”

I pushed open the door, and she gave me that sultry look from beneath her lashes as she passed me. Her pointer finger trailed across my abs and slipped lower, to just right above my belt.

Heat shocked down, and my dick throbbed hard.

She stepped inside, ass swaying. My head was empty as I followed her in, but not enough to forget to lock the door behind us and check it. She moved to the kitchen area and turned, leaning back against the counter.

“Well, I’m here now.” She tilted her head innocently. “What were you thinking?”

I set my keys aside. “Lift your skirt.”

My lips parted as her long fingers flipped the very edge of her hem, tugging it up an inch.

“I feel like you’re not a very good man,” she whispered.

“Why? Is it the neck tattoos?”

She pointed above her at the chandelier made of animal bones, at the long row of collectible weaponry over the fireplace in the living area.

“That’s weird,” she whispered.

“It’s ethically sourced,” I said, taking a step closer. “The bones, anyway.”

Her eyes widened, her hands sliding behind her back as I got even closer and bent over her, pinning her up against the sink.

“I think it’s the tattoos,” I breathed.

“I have a tattoo,” she whispered.

I scanned her body quickly. “I don’t see it.”

She lifted her hand and turned her middle finger to the side. Tucked away was a little purple butterfly. For a micro tattoo, it was incredibly sharp, and I wondered if it was new.

Without thinking, I lifted her hand to my mouth and gently bit the butterfly, making her gasp.

“Lift your skirt,” I ordered.

This time, she tugged it up to reveal a silky pair of mauve panties. Arousal flooded me in a surge, and I forgot everything. My mind went empty, and there was nothing left but the driving need to drop down and taste between her legs.

My knees gave way and hit the ground. Her eyes widened as her fingers wrapped around the edge of the sink.

“What are you doing?” she gasped.

Her thighs were so soft—fuck, they felt so good. I ran my palms up, shoving her skirt to her waist. She moaned as my fingers grazed her ass and slipped beneath her panties, her head falling back when I peeled the silk from her pussy and let it fall around her heels.

She was pierced.

Curiosity roused, I lifted her thigh and draped her knee over my shoulder. She was beautiful, cleanly shaved, with a faint blush over her sex. I ran my fingertip lightly over the seam, wetting it so I wouldn’t hurt her when I parted her pussy to reveal her clit.

There was a tiny silver bar through the hood, and clipped onto it was a mauve gem.

It wasn’t the first time I’d seen a clit piercing, but it was the first time I saw one on the most perfect pussy I’d ever laid eyes on.

Without thinking, I bent and licked it. She gasped, and my entire body tingled as her sweet taste spread over my tongue. Dick hard as a rock in my pants, I licked over her again, rubbing up against her piercing as I went.

Her hips lifted as my tongue came away, hungry for more.

“Oh God,” she whispered. “You’re good at that.”

Right then, I realized I didn’t care if I got any satisfaction tonight. I wanted to make this woman come and come again until the wetness dripped down my chin and her hands were tangled in my hair and she had to pry my face from between her thighs.

So I did. And even though she was so fucking proper and pretty, she let me turn her into a mess over my kitchen sink.

I forgot her name. Maybe she forgot mine.

It didn’t matter, though, because she gave up after the first orgasm and just let me eat her out until her pleasure moved in waves, until it slipped down her thighs and soaked into my shirt, mixing with my sweat.

We lay on the kitchen floor for a while, and she played with my hair and ran her elegant fingers over my face, exploring the tattoos on my neck.

I left her in the kitchen with some ice water while I showered all the sweat and pussy off my neck and chest. Then we made out on the kitchen floor for another hour. No sex—just touching, kissing, letting our bodies ebb and flow together through our rumpled clothes. My dick ached, but I was so drunk on the taste of her mouth that I barely noticed.

She left around three because she couldn’t keep her eyes open and I had work in the morning. A car came to pick her up, probably an Uber. I could only see the headlights in the road. I pinned her against the garage wall and kissed the side of her neck as she moaned, hips rubbing up against my groin.

“I want to see you again,” I said.

“You will,” she gasped.

I bit her neck and pushed my phone number into her pocket. She walked away with a pink mark on her skin, giving me a heavy-lidded glance over her shoulder as she slipped into the dark.

Like she really intended to see me again.