He looks like maybe he’s in the same kind of mood I am tonight. Maybe he’s looking for a distraction, same as I am.
I keep an eye on him, and about ten minutes later, he comes up to get another drink. My knees go a little weak when I see him up close. I don’t usually flirt with customers, but fuck it. Time to throw caution to the wind. If he shoots me down, he shoots me down. It’ll make a funny story to tell Maddy next time I talk to her.
The guy gives me a small, crooked smile as he sets his empty glass down. That’s encouraging.
“You need another?” I ask.
“Yeah. Same kind.” His voice is low, a little rough, and sends a shiver down my spine.
Carla must’ve taken his order since he definitely didn’t come up to the bar the first time, but I remember pouring it. Whiskey, top shelf, neat.
“I haven’t seen you around here before,” I reply as I grab the bottle. This is a longer conversation than I’ve had with a customer all night, and my nerves tingle with a little thrill as I try to remember how the fuck to flirt. “You’re the kind of guy I’d remember. You new in town?”
The man gives a huff of what might be laughter. “Not really. I’m not in Portland very often. I work out of town.”
I hum and nod. As I pour his drink, I let him see me looking at him, tracing the way his broad chest fills out his shirt. His gaze trails over me in return, and I shiver again as the heat of his cobalt blue eyes nearly burns me. I’m just wearing my usual work outfit—a black tank top and tight pair of dark blue jeans. Nothing fancy. But it shows off what it needs to show off.
“Out of town, huh?” I breathe, pitching my voice a little lower. Ugh. That might’ve been too low. I raise it a little and add, “What sort of work do you do?”
The guy gives another huff of laughter, tilting his head to one side as he studies me. “Are you actually interested in my work?”
I lean my elbows on the bar top. It offers up a good view of my cleavage, and I see his gaze flick down and then back up to lock onto my eyes. “Not really. But I am interested in you.”
I’m shocking myself with my own boldness. Not that I can’t flirt when I want to, but I don’t usually want to. Not at all.
But then, usually the men who come through The Den aren’t worth my time. All I want from them is their tip money, and I don’t have to flirt to get that. This guy is different though, and not just because he’s so damn hot I want to lick every inch of his skin. There’s something about him that fills me with curiosity, makes me want to know more. He’s clearly got some kind of story that’s mulling around in his head and heart, weighing him down. More than just his looks, it’s his attitude, the whole air about him, that intrigues me.
“Oh, are you now?” His eyes narrow slightly as if he’s trying to figure me out, but he can’t hide the heat that sparks in them too. He braces a large hand on the bar top, and the smile on his face is almost wolfish. “I know you’re not the one who checks IDs at the door, but I’ve got a few years on you. You sure I’m what you’re looking for, Reckless?”
“Are you trying to get yourself not laid?” I shoot back. Up close, I can see that he’s a few years older than me, but who the fuck cares? I’m legal, he’s legal. And he’s definitely still in his twenties, so we’re not even inching toward gross. “Just means you’ve got more experience. You might actually know what you’re doing.”
The guy laughs, looking surprised at his own reaction. When he smiles again, there’s something different about it—more genuine. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that.”
“Hey, I’m a girl who knows what she wants and goes after it.”
This whole Elliot the Vixen thing felt awkward and a little silly at first, but as I speak, I realize I’m not playing a role anymore. I really do want this. The tension thickening the air between us taunts me with its heavy promise, and there’s a throbbing pulse between my legs that’s