My pulse is racing as I stand. This is crazy. Am I drunk? I do a quick sobriety test with my back turned while he pays the check. My vision is fine, I’m not wobbling, I can walk a straight line. If anything I’m on the sober side of buzzed. The tea and mozzarella sticks are working their magic.
Of all the ways to deal with my broken heart over the failed fellowship, falling in bed with this guy is definitely the least mature. But I’m lonely, and now I’m horny, and he’s saying yes. Besides, I was raised in a very sex positive environment. Rachel likes sex. A lot. I feel absolutely no shame in having a one-night stand. As long as he knows what this is, I’m saying yes too.
Plus, there’s just something about him. I wasn’t lying before, I’m a total zodiac girl, and I believe in signs. I also believe in energy. He’s a good person—kind and compassionate. He’s a giver.
I can feel his eyes on me, memorizing me. My skin pebbles. Why am I nervous? I turn around to face him and he stifles a needy groan. That sound goes straight to my pussy. His gaze sweeps over me before he turns away, handling the bill.
He’s tall, maybe 6’3”. I’m like 5’5” in heels, so I barely come up to his shoulder. His muscles are tight under his grey t-shirt, and his jeans are doing the lord’s work. You could chip a tooth on that ass. I want to trail my nails over his skin, I want to see him shiver. I want—
He slaps the billfold closed and hands it off to the bartender, slipping his credit card back inside his wallet. I watch him tuck it away in his back pocket, wishing I could be that hand.
Girl, get yourself together.
I spin away, trying to take a breath. It’s been a while since I’ve done this. I’ve just been so busy with work and life. I’ve been on the road more in the last three months than I’ve been home. Maybe this timing is perfect. I don’t just want this; I need this. One door closed for me today, it’s time to open a new one.
“Wait—” he calls behind me.
My excitement sinks like a rock in my chest.
Oh god, he’s changed his mind. I came on too strong.
I glance over my shoulder, and I see his face flicker with five emotions at once—anticipation, confusion, need. Then he’s pressing in behind me. “I don’t even know your name,” he murmurs, that voice low and sweet as honey.
My breath catches. Right, names would be good.
Or maybe not…
Signs, remember? I have a feeling we’re meant to be two souls who find each other, but only for this moment. Then he’ll go his way, and I’ll go mine. I smile and shake my head, reaching for his hand. It’s so large in mine, but I like the fit. I like the way he wraps his fingers around mine, holding steady and firm.
“No names,” I say. “No jobs. No real life. Tonight, we’re just two people lost in a city not our own.” I glance over my shoulder, heart in my throat, as he hits me with that eager smile. He’s in. He wants to get lost as much as I do.
I give his hand a little squeeze. “Come find me.”
He steps in closer, fully committed to whatever comes next. I feel the warmth of his smile down to my toes. “Lead the way, Mystery Girl.”
I keep my fingers linked with his as I pull him along. We’re passing by the empty hostess stand when the brunch group comes strolling around the backside of a row of booths. Chad’s friends all snigger when they see us. Two of them wave at me. One is tipsy enough he needs his friend’s arm for support.
He drops my hand, angling himself slightly in front of me, as we let the other group pass us. I can feel him tense, as if he’s ready for a fight. On instinct, I raise a hand, brushing my fingers over his shoulder. He calms at my touch, letting out a breath.
He smells so good. I fight the urge to lean in. He smells woodsy and floral. It’s smooth and understated. I want to curl up against his chest, breathing in the fabric of his t-shirt.
“Last chance to get that ticket to the regatta, beautiful,” Chad calls over. “Why don’t you ditch your brother and come play with a real man?”
“Noway thatguyzzzher brother,” the drunk guy slurs. Two of the others laugh.
Casual as you like, my new friend steps forward, offering out his hand to Chad. “I don’t think I caught your name before.”
Chad pauses, glaring at the hand. “It’s Brad,” he says, taking it and giving it a firm shake. “Brad Hollingsworth.”
“Brad…right,” he replies, totally keeping his cool.
I don’t catch their next remarks because I’ve stepped in against his back, stifling my laugh with my hand and hiding myself against his bulk. My shoulders are shaking as I hold in a cackle. His hand wraps around me from behind, pressing me against him as he waves and says something chivalrous in parting to the tipsy yachting group.
As soon as they pass through the doors, he’s turning, one hand on my hip and the other under my chin, tipping it up. He’s grinning like an idiot. We both are. “His name is Brad.”
I snort again. God, I have tears in my eyes. “I swear I didn’t know,” I say, sucking in a breath.
He’s standing so close, it’s practically an embrace. His gaze heats as he traces the features of my face. He reaches out a hand to stroke my jaw, and I feel that touch everywhere.
My breasts feel heavy and I’m starting to ache, that burning feeling of emptiness settling low in my core. It’s been too long since I craved a man’s touch like this. “Were you afraid you’d lose me to a real man?” I murmur.
“Not a chance, gorgeous,” he replies. “You’ve got all the man you need right here.”
I smile. Fuck, that’s a good line. My pussy must agree because our girl is feeling ravenous. I’m ready to climb this man like a tree.
