His eyes slide over me and the smile he aims my way is dangerous. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
A hundred butterflies start bashing around in my stomach.
I set my card on the counter. “This round is on me.”
“No way.” He slides the card in my direction.
“The least I can do is buy you and your friends a drink.”
“Put your card back, tiger. That’s not going to happen.”
“Tiger?”
He nods to my dress.
I glance down. “This is cheetah print.”
“Looks like a tiger to me.” His eyes stay locked on mine. He leans closer to be heard above the music. “Graceful. Sly. Pounces when the time is right. I think tiger fits you better.”
A whiff of darkness, like a plume of smoke, rises inside me.
Mischievous.
A little insidious.
I swivel toward him.
Our thighs are touching, but he doesn’t move away.
Neither do I.
I motion to the drumsticks. “You’re a musician?”
“Struggling.”
“No shame in that.”
He tilts his head. “You think so?”
“It’s hard to make a living. Might as well pursue what you love when you’re young.”
One corner of his lips arches up again. The sight of it burns me alive.
“Why are you talking like you’re older than me?”
“Aren’t I?”
“What?”
I take a sip. “Older than you.”
“How old are you?”
“Don’t you know you should never ask a woman her age?”
He squints at me. “Can I guess?”
“Be very careful.” The words sound seductive. Now, I know I’m tipsy.
His eyes linger on my curly hair and move down to my lips. I feel his study like a caress on my skin.
“Twenty-four.”
My brows hike.
“Am I right?”
“No.” I glance away.
His lips curl up higher. “You can’t lie, tiger. That’s cute.”
“Cute?”
“I have other adjectives, but I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
My skin sizzles with every second that passes. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this attracted to someone.
“What if you weren’t?”
“What?”
“A gentleman?”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Just curiosity.” Heart slamming against my ribs, I motion for another drink.
I’ve had more than three bottles tonight.
Smart Grey says slow down.
But Reckless Grey is in the driver’s seat.
He extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I slide my hand against his palm. Warm, rough fingers close around mine. I feel the callouses on the inside of his knuckles, probably from years of playing the drums. I imagine what those rough hands would feel like on my skin, skating over my shoulders, slipping up my legs.
Embarrassed, I drop his hand and reach for my drink. It’s empty.
He motions to his and I take it, knocking it back.
My best friend was better at this. Flirting. Talking to guys. They gravitated to her. Maybe that’s why things ended up the way they did.
No.
That’s not why.
She was innocent. The people who hurt her deserve all the blame.
“Are you okay?”
I let out a deep breath. “Fine.”
“I’ll buy that.” He studies me. “But if you want to talk…”
“You’ll be a gentleman and listen?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“That you’ll listen?”
“That I’ll be a gentleman.”
I can feel the alcohol sloshing through my veins. Liquid courage. It unravels my inhibitions.
Have fun, Grey. You’re going back to hell. Might as well let a hot, mysterious stranger take you to heaven first.
I reach for another drink.
He pulls it back.
I shoot him a playful look. “Can’t keep up?”
“Can I at least know why we’re getting wasted tonight?”
I purse my lips.
“Post breakup? Relationship drama?” A possessive glint in his eyes, he growls, “You’re not taken, are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You looked upset when you walked in tonight,” he says. “I thought I’d have to pummel someone on your behalf.”
“You saw me when I got here?”
“You were the only thing I could see.”
“Me or the cheetah print?”
He laughs. It’s a low, booming sound. Like the instrument he plays. “I take it you’re not really an animal print person.”
“Tonight, I’m an animal print person.”
He leans in, his mouth brushing my ear. “And tomorrow?”
He’s flirting.
I usually can’t tell, but I can see it clear as day.
His body is still leaning toward mine, sheltering me. He smells so good. Like leather and spice.
I want it.
I want him.
Is it really okay for me to have him? To have this one thing? To make this one potentially stupid decision?
“Let’s not worry about tomorrow,” I whisper.
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes,” I say breathlessly.
His voice an easy, over-confident purr, he says, “You want to leave with me?”
I blink in shock.
“Careful, tiger.” His voice holds a hint of a warning. “Because the moment I have you alone, I’m not going to take my hands off until every inch of you belongs to me.”
Anticipation zips up my spine.
“I don’t…” I lick my lips. “I don’t usually do this.”
“Do what?”
I gesture between the two of us, heart in my throat even as excitement skitters through me.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
I nod.
He puts his lips against my ear. “I like you.”
“Already?”
“Already.”
“Why?”
He purses his lips. “Your tits.”
I roll my eyes.
He smiles. “I liked you the moment I laid eyes on you. I couldn’t help myself. And I don’t screw women I like, tiger. It’s a personal rule.”
My body sways forward. I curl my fingers over his shoulder—to steady myself. To keep him close.
“Is there a but?”
“There shouldn’t be.”
“But…”
“But,” he breathes in, eyes closed, and it feels like he’s inhaling me, “I’ll make you the exception.”
“The exception. That’s a nice line. Very original.”
He smiles again. Impossibly long lashes splay over tan cheeks.
I notice that I’m moving my hands over his defined shoulder muscles. It’s a bold move. I’m not a bold woman, and yet I don’t stop.
“My flight leaves tomorrow morning,” I whisper.
He looks up with those smoldering blue eyes. “Then we better make tonight count.”
