The Jezebel - Dylan Allen Page 0,54

over,” Matty says in a low voice.

My stomach drops, but I straighten my posture and take a deep fortifying breath when he slides into the seat on the other side of me. I smell the same verbena, coconut, and clean I did last night. I squeeze my thighs together to ease the ache blooming there.

“Hello Goddess,” his voice rumbles low and hot in my ear. Just like that, I’m wet. Annoyed at how traitorous my body is, I stiffen.

“Don’t call me that.” I keep my eyes on the bar.

“Hellooo,” Matty reaches across me to wave enthusiastically at him.

His smile brightens. ” Hi. Matty, right? Stone.” he reaches across over to take her hand.

“Ah, you have a good memory,” she coos. I ignore the small flare of irrational jealousy when their hands touch. I sip my drink and the cold and spicy effervescence settle my bubbling nerves and cool my overheating head.

I feel his eyes on me and I dart a dark glance at him without turning my head.

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” I say and take another sip of my drink.

“Yes, but I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to you.”

“That’s not a huge endorsement for your self-control then. You should try harder.”

“I’d like to try doing obscene things to your mouth and pussy with my hard dick instead,” he whispers. A bolt of white hot, unmitigated pleasure hits me squarely between my thighs and I can’t bite back my groan.

“And… that’s my cue to leave,” Matty slides off her seat and looks back and forth between us before she smiles. “Reggie, The dick I was talking about yesterday? - the kind that makes good women into fools? Be sure you wear a condom on your heart, cause this one is gonna fuck your feelings.” she pronounces with a grin before she melts into the crowd forming on the nearby dance floor.

“You were talking about my dick yesterday?” he drawls in my ear.

I turn to face him; My chest, thighs, and nipples all tighten at once.

His eyes are full of his wicked intent. But his strong, sharply defined jaw is relaxed. His lips are spread in a delicious smile that makes me want to lean forward and bite them. I scowl at him and turn to face the bar again. “You drove my friend away.”

He lifts one of his large, surprisingly elegant hands and signals for the bartender and then flashes a brilliant grin that makes me ache. “Good. Three’s a crowd when it comes to sex.”

I give him glare. “Stone.”

“Regan.” He says in a mimic of my warning tone.

To my surprise, I giggle.

He grins and presses his advantage. “You promised me seconds.”

I watch him from the corner of my eye, while he orders a neat glass of scotch. He’s in jeans and a white dress shirt that looks custom made to my well-trained eye. He’s wearing a thin gold cuff on his right wrist.

Otherwise, he’s completely unadorned. And he doesn’t need anything more. Stone is man candy. The kind that should come with a warning label that reads, "One bite won’t be enough”

Several women at the bar have given him the once over. One of them is actively trying to catch his attention in the mirror. I give her a venomous smile when our gazes meet, and her eyes widen slightly before she turns to talk to the women on her left.

That was small of me.

Ugh, if I had any sense, I would point him in that woman’s direction and go back to my room and call my kids.

The waitress sets his drink down and refills my shot glass without even asking. I give her a grateful smile and throw the shot back.

“Rough day?” Stone asks conversationally.

I huff out a laugh. “Something like that.”

“I’ve got something for that, Regan. Let me make you feel good.” He’s laying it on thick. There’s no ambiguity in his approach; he’s not being presumptuous or coy.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been pursued by a man and it feels… good. But…

“I shouldn’t do this.”

“Why not? Doesn’t this feel good, like no time has passed at all?”

I scoff, but my drink turns bitter in the back of my throat. I pivot so my whole body is facing him and meet his eyes. The amusement in them annoys me even further.

“Listen, you’re holding on to nostalgia. You had a crush on me then, right? I’m not that girl anymore,” I warn him.

“Well, that’s good. I don’t date little girls.

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