him. I’m the only one holding his attention. Carnal desire darkens his eyes and pools in mine. He sweeps a hand through his hair, inspecting me with a predatory gaze. My lips part with a whimper as I revel in his attention. Until Mal smacks my shoulder. “Are you eye fucking the guy or working?”
I jolt back like I’ve been shocked. I try to think of a lie, but nothing comes to mind. Dizzy with the idea of him, I smile at Mal and shrug. “No. I’m just serving him.”
“Serving him sexually.” She peeks a glance at him over my shoulder. “Jesus, he’s hot!”
“I know.” I laugh, smiling and peering at him again. I try to be stealthy about it, but I know I’m just that much more obvious.
Dark eyes flick to mine, and I know he’s going to follow. I turn, pass Mal, move around Dylan, and to the edge of the bar. Drawing in a shaky breath, my fingertips gliding over the worn wood, I slip down the hall to the bathrooms. It’s tucked away, usually a place where I’ve seen the occasional hookup and drug use, unfortunately, and closely monitored by Avie. Nothing can happen here, but still, I’m curious if he’ll follow me.
The hallway’s lit by red lights tucked into the crown molding and gives off an almost forbidden erotic aura. Or creepy if you ask my ten-year-old self, trying to use the bathroom and nervously thinking Jack Nicolson is going to axe his way out of the wall and swallow me whole. This time it’s a different kind of fear. One that sends tingles to all the right places and pulses to the beat in my chest with a familiar rhythm.
The walls in the hallway are brick, filled with graffiti and memories of forty years spilled across them with paint pens we keep in a bucket on the floor. The messages are tinted red from the lights, but their messages are ones of encouragement, lost love, and some new-found.
Running my hand over the brick, I walk slowly, my steps light, anticipation simmering like magic. And then it happens, long fingers wrap around the back of my neck. He halts my steps, his hand gripping needy flesh. His scent is of whiskey and salty seas, and I’m the wave destined to find the shore. He tangles his hand in my hair and pulls hard enough that another whimper escapes me. The sound of a growl leaping from his lungs sends a shiver through me. With his hand on the back of my neck, he spins me around and into the wall. His hand in my hair pushes lower—needy, destined for my hip. He grips, his breath pushed out forcefully. “Where do you think you’re going?”
I turn my head. The side of his face is lit up red, his eyes dark, but he laughs when my shoulder hits his chin. That laugh, God, that laugh. It pulses through me, and I want to swim in this feeling of him touching me like it’s a sin.
“Do you want to keep playing this game?” he asks, his mouth dipping to my neck. My chest presses into the bricks, his flush against my back.
I stare at him over my shoulder. His jaw is clenched, and with a grunt, he yanks me flush against the heat of him, and, and… he’s hard. Shifting his stance, his cock settles nicely between the cheeks of my ass. Oh, that’s nice. Feeling him there, knowing he’s so desperate that he’s attacking me in a bar, it entices another whimper from me.
Kissing the back of my neck, he moves his hand to between my thighs and cups my pussy. Oh, that’s definitely nice. And then he trails one hand down my spine, his fingertips gliding over every knob in a torturous path to my hip. His chest expands with heavy breaths, and before I know it, the hand between my legs is inside the front of my jeans.
“Something tells me this is just beginning for you,” he whispers, gliding his tongue along the curve of my neck. I love a man who licks my neck. It’s damn near as good as them licking lower. Believe me on this one. If it’s done right, same effect.
Oh, God. Yes. Yes. Yes. Surrendering to his hold on me, my cheek presses against the wall. My body breaks out into chills as two fingers penetrate me. He grunts, rubbing himself against my ass cheeks. I keep my eyes on