Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

TRYING TO DISTANCE himself from the grime of the prison, he’d gone all out tonight, stopping for a haircut and clean shave before putting on his finest suit. The bar he’d chosen was a far cry from the dive he’d picked for his last tryst, but tonight, he wanted something different. He didn’t want a dirty fuck in a back alley; he wanted a high-class affair. Someone who would look good, smell good, and taste even better.

I fucking deserve it.

The intimately lit interior of Nova welcomed him, the polished wood and massive hanging chandeliers radiating sophistication, and he took a moment as he entered to breathe in the sweet mix of perfume, cigars...and money.

This was more his scene, more the life he’d grown accustomed to before his world had gone to shit. It was a world he intended to reclaim.

He eased through the room with a cocky confidence, letting his eyes make contact with the women he passed. He loved the spark of interest that lit them up—and the fact that he was the one with the match.

Walking past them all, he made his way to the bar, letting them follow in his wake if they worked up the courage to approach. He knew that, dressed as he was, looking like he did, it wouldn’t be an easy task for a woman to make a move, but the one who dared would be someone worth his time. And he would make it more than worth hers.

“A drink for you, sir?” The bartender’s voice sounded over the chatter in the room. She was a cute thing, even if completely covered up in her slacks and collared shirt. Her breasts, which were straining against the material and causing stress on the buttons, caught and held his attention.

“If you make it? Absolutely.”

He turned the full force of his smile on her, and she bit her lip in an endearing way that didn’t seem to quite fit the establishment. She appeared...shy. Then, as he looked her over a second time, he noted how young she seemed. A smattering of freckles covered her cheeks, and her wide eyes betrayed no glimpse of corruption.

“What would you like?”

You bent over the bar, legs spread, waiting for me.

“Maybe you could tell me the special for tonight?” He leaned across the bar and wrapped one of her long, red curls around his finger. “Something that’ll set me on fire.”

The girl cleared her throat and glanced around, almost as if checking that she were the one he was talking to, but when her eyes came back to his and he was still focused on her, she got the picture.

Tucking the stray piece of hair behind her ear, she said, “Well, we can do something quick and easy like a shot of whiskey to match your eyes…” She stopped, embarrassed, and nervously chewed on her lip. “Or, uh...maybe something more involved... I could make you a Smoky Sour?”

He moved in closer to her, and she mimicked his movement. “Quick and easy is underrated, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh for God’s sake, don’t scare the poor girl,” a sharp voice came from his right.

He turned to see Blon—Reagan standing there, rolling her eyes at him. She focused her attention on the bartender, who’d jumped away and was now a deep shade of red to match her hair.

“He’ll have a Manhattan on the rocks, but you can make mine straight up.” Turning back to him, she smirked. “On the prowl?”

“You seem to make a habit of asking questions that are none of your business.”

When she took the seat next to him, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one who’d gone all out that night. Her hair was down, cascading in waves over her shoulders and framing the deep V of her dress to showcase her ample cleavage. Her full lips were painted a deep crimson, matching the skintight halter dress that left little to the imagination.

“No need to get defensive. We’re old friends now, right? Oh, you don’t mind if I sit here, do you? Don’t worry. I won’t interfere in your attempt at picking up a girl barely out of high school. If you’re in the mood for a limp body, that one’s a keeper.”

“Just making friendly conversation,” he replied. “A skill you obviously haven’t mastered.”

“If I recall correctly, it wasn’t my conversation skills you wanted me to master.”

“No, your mouth is much more appealing when it’s filled.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Took me long, tortured hours to perfect that skill,” she said with a broad smile.

“I doubt it was torture. You seemed to rather enjoy being on your knees.”

The bartender chose that moment to set their drinks on napkins in front of them, her hand a bit unsteady as she put down the martini glass, which caused a bit of the liquid to spill over the rim and onto Reagan’s outstretched hand.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” the girl apologized, grabbing napkins to wipe away the mess. “I’ll go make you another.” She rushed off before either of them could say anything.

Bringing her hand to her mouth, Reagan licked the liquid from her thumb and raised a perfectly arched brow his way. “Inexperienced and messy. You sure you want to go there?”

“Go where? We were just talking. You know, college applications, how many cats she has, whether she likes it better in her pussy or the ass...”

Without batting an eyelash, Reagan brought her glass to her mouth and took a sip. When she lowered it back to the bar, she asked, “And what was her response to these...engaging questions of yours?”

“Vanderbilt, two, and any-fucking-where I’d want to put it.”

“Well, inexperienced she must be, because no respectable single female wanting to pick up a man would admit to owning two cats.”

He took a long gulp of his drink. “One can never have enough pussy.”

“Damn, I walked right into that one.”

“You should probably work a little harder on those conversation skills I mentioned earlier.”

“Hmm.” She turned her head and swept the room with a quick glance before looking back to him. “You’re probably right. In fact, I see someone over there I’d like to converse with.” She stood up and drained the rest of her martini just as the bartender came back with her refill. Grabbing a large bill from her cleavage, she tossed it on the counter while looking at him. “I’ve got this one.” Then she picked up her glass and sauntered her way through the crowd to the opposite side of the bar.

Christ, the woman was something else. She looked like class and sex all neatly wrapped up in one siren-red fuck-me dress. If his dick hadn’t already taken a tour of all she had to offer, he sure as hell would have resented the suited-up guy she’d just stopped in front of. But as it was, he had taken that tour and he did not do repeats. At least that’s what he was trying to tell himself. Again.

“I’m so sorry. I hope I didn’t, uh...ruin anything.”

Red’s face was so sincere with worry and the need to please that his cock jerked in response. He picked up the money Reagan had left on the bar and put it in her palm before laying his hand over hers.

“You didn’t ruin anything. She’s a bit too tart for my taste. You, on the other hand…” He picked up his glass and drained it, noticing her eyes watching his mouth as his tongue licked a drop on his bottom lip. “Fucking delicious.”

She gulped, her eyes wide, clearly intimidated but not yet scared off. Then she quickly glanced down, away from the intensity of his gaze, and noticed that his drink was low.

“Is there anything else you’d like?”

“Not right now, but come back and see me when my glass is empty and I’ll tell you exactly what I want.”

When she raised her eyes to his at the suggestive remark, he didn’t hide the bold way he looked her over, making her more than aware of what he was insinuating.

“Okay.”

For a reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, the slight tremble in her voice made his cock pound. She would be a very nice reward after a long, hard day. A wholesome young thing always presented a tight hole and an eagerness to learn.

Yes, sinking his dick into that would be a fucking gift to himself, he thought as he watched her walk away to serve another customer. She’d be servicing his cock later if he got his way. And his cock always got its way.

As he picked up his glass, he turned to observe the other patrons mingling. He told himself that he was just passing the time, but when his eyes immediately found the blonde who’d left his side only minutes before, he knew what he was really doing.

He was watching her, and fuck, that pissed him off.

She was off to the side, laughing at something some fuckwit in an expensive suit was saying. If he was honest, he wasn’t a bad-looking guy, but then she touched him, those long, elegant fingers grazing his sleeve, and Evan thought he wouldn’t mind uglying up the guy’s face with his fist.

Why the fuck he cared, he had no idea, but as she smoothed her hand farther up his arm and gave it a light fucking squeeze, he had to hold himself back from walking over there and ripping it off.

Instead, he turned his face away and forced himself to look at someone—anyone—else. Reagan on the prowl was lethal. She hunted, stalked, and then consumed.

Much like myself, he realized. The thought had him conflicted. On one hand, he admired her confidence and bold approach to get what she wanted. But on the other…

Suddenly, he heard her seductive laugh from where he stood, and it made his body stiffen.

Everypart of his body.

No. He wouldn’t think about the other hand. He drained the last of his drink and turned back around toward the bar.

* * *

EVAN LOOKED DOWN at the ass bared to him as he gripped the sides of her hips and thrust his cock inside her. The bartender’s hair spilled down her back in red waves, and he reached out to fist his hand in them, tugging her head back.

He’d followed her to the private bathroomwhen she had gone on her break, but she’d been the one to lock the door behind him. Enthusiastic had been an understatement—she’d dropped to her knees on the floor and sucked his cock like she’d had something to prove.

Now, she made soft whimpers every time he drove into her tight channel, and he turned her head to face him so he could cover her mouth with his, absorbing her moans. She tasted like a fucking lollipop, and he wondered if her pussy was just as sweet. He reached down to finger her clit, feeling her body jerk in his arms as he put more pressure on her. When she gasped, he eased up, sliding his fingers down her slit to cover himself in her juices, rubbing and teasing before coming back up to her sensitive spot. He could feel her muscles clench against his cock.

Bringing his fingers up to his lips, he could smell her arousal before the taste enveloped his tongue. He licked his finger from root to tip before pushing the other deep into his mouth. He groaned, and when he opened his eyes again, he caught her watching him in the mirror. Shock crossed her face, and he gave a depraved smile.

“I told you,” he said. “Fucking delicious. Now hold on.”

She readjusted her grip on the edge of the sink while he pounded her candied cunt. Her greedy body sucked his inside, and he’d been right; it was one hell of a fucking fit. Pushing inside of her had been sheer pleasure. Her walls had fisted him tighter than anything he could fucking remember, and every time he tried to pull out, she clung to him like he’d never get free.

That was all right by him. He wanted to stay exactly where he was until he’d gotten what he came for, and that was to reach for that high he could feel just on the other side of blowing his fucking load inside her.

As her moans got louder, a knock sounded on the door, and he clapped one of his palms over her mouth before meeting her eyes in the mirror.

“Shh,” he instructed, his voice a low growl. “Fuck me.”

She nodded and pushed her hips back, urging him on. His fingers reached for her clit again, causing her body to tremble as she neared her release. Then he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy these last few moments of his cock deep inside his prize.

He was back in the game. He’d gotten the job... Reagan was his boss...

Reagan.Fuck yes, that right there...

He gripped the redhead’s hair hard, twisted it in his fingers, and with the thought of an elegantly dressed, professional-looking Ms. Spencer peering down at him in her office, he came like a fucking geyser.

* * *

HE THREW AWAY the condom and tucked his shirt in as he watched the bartender attempt to pull herself back together. Her pale skin was rosy, an effect of sex that wouldn’t be going away anytime soon no matter how impeccable the rest of her looked.

Giving her a light kiss on the cheek, he told her that he’d see her at the bar—a lie, obviously, but a quick way to appease any guilt she’d be feeling about their quickie. Then he opened the door—he was ready to get the hell out of that bathroom.

Standing there, with her arms folded in front of her body and an all-too-knowing look on her face, was Reagan.

“Jesus. You’re everywhere,” he said, instantly irritated at seeing her there.

Reagan’s eyes looked past his shoulder to the girl still pulling herself together before landing back on his. “Not everywhere you’ve been, thank God.”

The sight of her was causing any fucking pleasure he’d gained from that encounter to turn to anger and, yeah, fucking shame. She was starting to make him crazy.

“Got to say, I’m glad you took me home. A quick fuck has never been high on my to-do list. I prefer a couple of hours at the very least...but you already know that, don’t you, Ev?” She looked around him again and asked, “Are you almost done? Some of us actually need to make proper use of the facility.”

He stepped in toward her. “Don’t call me that, Blondie. And don’t give me this bullshit about being too good for a bathroom fuck. If I’d wanted you there, I would’ve had you. Besides, you’re not staff, so there’s no reason for you to be following me.”

“This one didn’t have a line.” She made a small show of sniffing the air around him and scrunched up her nose. “Oh, she was very sweet, wasn’t she?”

“Like candy.”

Red chose that moment to walk out of the bathroom, and she stopped when she took in the scene in front of her. Her face was one of horror at getting caught.

“It’s not what it looks like,” she said, stumbling over her words as she tried to explain herself.

Reagan just shook her head. “Actually, sweetheart, it’s exactly what it looks like. Not that I blame you a bit. He can be quite convincing.” She pushed herself off the wall, towards the restroom, but as she passed Red, she stopped and leaned in so Evan had to strain to hear what she was saying to the girl. “It also helps that he’s got a large dick.” She winked and walked into the restroom, the door shutting firmly behind her, leaving Red shocked and him...oddly flattered.

As he stood there in the wake of Reagan and the expectation of Red, he was annoyed—annoyed at the woman who had yet again gotten under his skin. It was as if she were gaining some kind of perverse pleasure from it, but he wasn’t sure she even knew what she was doing to him.

She was tempting the beast, the one he tried and always failed to hide, and with every word and gesture, she incited the hunger, the ache he felt deep in the pit of his stomach.

She didn’t want him; she’d made that much clear.

And for that matter, he didn’t want her either. So why couldn’t he get her the hell out of his head?