just as inky dark as her eyes, pulled back into a severe ponytail that hung over her shoulder, falling just over her firm breasts.
On her feet were a pair of knee-high, black stiletto boots, making him smile. Badass but girly. She turned sideways to let someone pass and the black material covered the most incredible ass he’d ever seen, her legs heartbreaking. The racerback style curled around her neck, her back not only exposed by the mesh, but also by a deep cutout plunging down to her lower back. He loved the way she wore each article of clothing. Definitely not delicate, but fit, compact and solid.
He downed the rest of his beer and without taking his eyes off her, he motioned to the bartender for another.
As Luke went into the chorus, Hemingway’s heart contracted. He hadn’t seen anyone like her in his twenty-two years, not anywhere, and he’d seen a lot of women. He finally understood the meaning of bombshell.
With several long-legged strides done with an enormous sense of grace and efficiency, she made it to the only open stool at the bar. Next to him.
She slid onto the leather with that spectacular ass and motioned the bartender, who delivered his second beer to him.
God help him, he steeled his heart against the sound of her voice. If her voice in any way matched the smoky fire in her eyes, he was doomed.
“What can I get you?”
“Whiskey, neat.”
He felt bowled over with those two words.
She turned her head and looked at him, her brows raised. He had been unabashedly staring at her from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. She hadn’t missed a moment of his attention with those hawk eyes of hers.
“I’d correct you on your manners if your eyes weren’t so damn blue. Didn’t your mom tell you that staring was rude?”
“Or a compliment,” he said, his voice coming out raspy.
She gave him a small, very aware smile. “Nice and simple answer. You a master at picking up women in clubs?”
“I’m just a guy having a drink.”
“From my experience, boys are always trouble,” she said, nothing but confidence in her voice. She leaned over so that her delicious scent bound him to her without touch. “You look like you were made of trouble.” The instantaneous sparks between them sizzled with awareness as tangible as the world around him. Luke’s voice crooned out the lyrics to the song, filling the bar with the wonder in his besotted voice, with the same feverish heat and undeniable hunger this woman had generated. Hemingway took a long drink of the cold brew, which did nothing to extinguish the fire that had started in his chest and was gradually spiraling its way lower.
“Not frogs, snails and puppy dog tails?”
That made her laugh softly, wrecking him even more.
“Well, since you’re just having a drink…” She rose and found someone willing to dance with her, a jock who looked like he’d just gone to heaven. He watched them, noticed how the guy started to get handsy with her, and before he could stop the emotion, his temper flared. He rose from the stool and was over there in a heartbeat, taking the guy’s shoulder and spinning him away.
“The lady’s with me,” Hemingway said, low and menacing. The guy turned and started to puff up, then he took a good look at Hemingway’s face. He immediately backed up, threw up his hands and mumbled a quick sorry.
Before he could head back to his bar stool, the woman slipped her arms around his neck, ensnaring him with her sultry, disarming gaze.
“Definitely not frogs, snails and puppy dog tails,” she whispered, swaying closer and aligning their bodies even more intimately than she’d been with the other chump. His body responded to the warmth and softness of her supple curves, hardening him in a scalding rush of need. “More like thick muscle, grim determination, and lots of heart.”
He snorted. Right now, his blood was hot, and he was hard as fuck. Heart had nothing to do with saving her for himself. It was pure selfish greed.
He tried to take a breath, tried to get back his calm, but the lust overruled his common sense. He was about to embark on his training…that meant he would be away from women for a long time. Maybe tonight was his lucky night. He could slake his desire and get this out of his system.
He wanted to ask for her name and number but resisted. He didn’t want to have anything