Chapter 2

About Two Months Ago

"Can I get a refill, beautiful?" I flag down the petite, young, brunette bartender to refill my beer.

She grabs a bottle from the under-bar fridge, pops off the cap, and places it in front of me. Leaning forward, she places her forearms on the bar and looks at me inquisitively before she says, "This doesn't seem like your kind of place."

She's not wrong.

The Rusty Anchor is a dive bar. From the outside, it looks condemned. The inside isn't much better, with burned-out lights and dust covering most surfaces. Nothing but bottled—mostly warm—beer. The floors are sticky. The barstools wobble. The clientele is questionable.

The warm beer and shitty atmosphere aren't why I'm here, though—she is.

"You look vaguely familiar, but I don't think I've seen you around here before," she presses with a raspy tone.

No, but I've seen you.

Four days ago, I ran into her walking down the street. It was likely inconsequential to her—just a little bump between strangers—but I haven't been able to stop thinking about her since.

The way her bright green eyes sparkled as she briefly glanced up at me. How fucking great those long, lean legs of hers would look wrapped around my waist as she took my cock. And I can't stop imagining what that raspy voice of hers will sound like when she's screaming as I take her.

Thoughts I know I won't be able to rid myself of until I get what I need—to be buried inside of her as I completely overpower her petite body.

"You haven't," I answer shortly. I'm not here to make small talk with her, but I'll do whatever is necessary to get her alone.

"You strike me more as the kind of guy that would visit The Rail." She continues to look me over. "The rich, stuffy assholes over there seem like much more your type."

"Did you just call me a rich, stuffy asshole?" I smirk before taking a sip of my room-temperature beer.

A slight blush of pink spreads over her cheeks as she quickly struggles to figure out how to respond. "I'm just saying. A guy like you. A place like this. If you were planning on slumming it, we don't exactly get a whole lot of single women in here."

"What about you?" I cock an eyebrow and her eyes widen slightly.

"What about me? Am I single?" she stammers slightly before breaking eye contact. "Yes."

Fuck, she's adorable.

"Do you think I'd be slumming it with you?" Her face drops slightly when I pause. "Because I think you're fucking stunning. Too fucking gorgeous and intriguing to be in a dump like this."

Her eyes fall to the floor, and my cock twitches as I watch the heated crimson creep up her neck and over her cheeks.

How have the men in this place not eaten this sweet girl alive yet?

Because I'm ready to have my fucking way with her right here on this bar top.

"Hey, Mia," a drunken, middle-aged man calls from the other end of the bar. "What the fuck do I have to do to get another beer around here?"

Looking up, she briefly makes eye contact with me before grabbing a beer and tending to the other waiting customers.

Mia…

As I nurse my beer, I flirt with her throughout the evening. While every man in this place can't keep their eyes off her, and they are quite vocal about it, I have something they don't.

Money.

A whole fucking lot of money.

The potential of a hefty tip alone will bring her back to me, but we both know that my interest in her is what keeps her standing in front of me. She is blinded by the possibilities of me—so blinded that she doesn't see me for what I really am.

I take the final swig from the bottle, and she is promptly here asking in a sultry tone, "Another? It's last call, and we're closing up in about ten minutes."

Placing a hundred dollar bill under my bottle, I slide it toward her side of the counter. "Two. And I'll split them with you once you lock up."

Her bright green eyes literally sparkle at my words as she pulls the cash and bottle from the bar. Tucking the money into her pocket, she nods, "Deal. I'll be out in about thirty minutes."

"Thirty minutes." I tip my head as I repeat it back to her before heading outside to my car.