“What he means is, that’smyrum you’re drinking.” I smile, watching her take a sip. Her long, black nails wrap around the glass, and once again, I think about how nice they would be wrapped around my dick. Her full red lips cover the square rim of the glass. She licks the drops of rum off the top of her lip.I wonder what else her tongue could do.My cock hardens at the idea.
“Does Pour Decisions supply every bar in the city?” She asks slowly as she sets the glass down on the bar. Her eyes peek through her full eyelashes and hooded eyes.
“It supplies anywhere I want it to, Sweetheart.” I follow suit and set my glass down next to hers. “What made you want to come out to a bar? Don’t you get enough during work hours?” I move a step closer. My thigh is now touching her fishnets just below her skirt. If I move my knee in just the right way, her skirt would leave me even less to imagine.
“I could ask you the same question.” She moves in towards me, barely leaving any space between us. The soft texture of her mesh sleeve brushes across the tattoos on my bare arms. If we were any closer, I would be inside of her.That’s not a bad idea.
Thalia’s chest moves faster under her sheer shirt. Her black bra stands out beneath the bright red mesh even in the dim lights. Seeing her chest rise makes my skin hot. I pick up my glass and take another drink of my bourbon, leaving it nearly empty, before I set it down on the small, square napkin in front of me. Her eyesare on me through every movement I make. I’m not sure whose heartbeat is louder, hers or mine.
“Do you normally go out on the town wearing short skirts and fishnets?” I counter, slowly scanning down her body.
“I don’t normally go out.” She laughs, her hand still tightly wrapped around her glass as her lips meet the rim again. My eyes stop at those perfect lips, thinking of how they would feel going down my chest to my hips.
“What made you want to?” I ask, trying to conjure up small talk the best I can.
“Jace.” She turns towards him and smiles. He looks over and returns the grin before returning to his phone screen. “What are the chances I would get to see you while I was out on the town?”Yeah, what are the fucking chances?
“Howluckythat I was out making my rounds,” I smile. “I would have never gotten to see you.” My hand moves just above her knee, my fingertips barely touching her thigh, just lifting the hem of her skirt. Leaning in closer, my lips graze the side of her ear. My beard gently pushes her hair out of the path of my lips. I offer just above a whisper, “Do you want to get out of here? I hear the drinks are too expensive and the music is too loud.”
“Fuck yes, I do.” Thalia answers in a volume similar to mine. She turns her head, nearly brushing her red lips against mine, our noses almost touching. “Let me grab my coat and tell Jace.” I eye her walk over to her table and grab my glass, drinking what is left of the bourbon.
“Looks like you’re done making your rounds,” Mike comments, wiping the space of the bar in front of him. His smirk is still planted on his lips. Hell, it never went away.
“I guess so.” I offer him a beam of my own and turn to face Thalia.
“Ready?” Thalia asks, meeting me at the bar.You have no fucking idea, Sweetheart.
A Dream Come True
His black car sits out in front of the bar. The lights of the city reflect off the dark paint. I don’t think I have ever seen a cleaner car in my life. I know I haven’t. His hand brushes against my waist as he moves around me to open the passenger side door.Do men still do that these days?His fingertips gently touch my hip as he moves past me to the driver's seat.
“Are you going to get in?” He asks while standing on the other side of the car. There is a soft tone to his voice and a smile to match. It’s enough to melt the fishnets off my legs. I offer a nervous smile before sliding onto the leather passenger seat.
The dark lettering of his tattoos on his hands matches the color of the steering wheel and the leather seating. Silver rings shine brightly on both of his hands, reflecting every light we pass. I catch myself biting my lower lip at the sight of his hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel.Way to be fucking inconspicuous, Thalia.I try moving in the small seat, pressing my thighs together the best I can to try to hide my excitement. His eyes burn through the small holes in my fishnets as my skirt hikes up my thigh each timeI move. Crossing my legs the best I can, I do my best attempt at trying not to expose myself.
“Nervous?” Lee asks, looking back at the road.Fuck yeah, I’m nervous.
“No… are you?”Who the hell am I kidding? He has to know that I am. He already knows I listen to his show every night. Alone. After work.His eyebrows raise in response to my answer, while his eyes stay focused on the road. I watch his lips curve into a small smile under his dark beard. He’s content to leave me with my questionunanswered.
“Most people don’t drive in the city.”I will say anything to break this awkward silence.
“I’m not most people, Sweetheart.” He turns to look at me.Fuck, that smirk will be the death of me.His voice sounds just like it does on the show—low, smooth, and just a hint of that New York accent. The soles of my boots squeak with every movement I make. Gripping my jacket closer, I hug it tightly around my body.Why do I suddenly feel so vulnerable?
“Are you cold?” He inquires. My eyes never leave his hands as he reaches over to turn the dials on the dash to turn up the heat. I fix my eyes on them at every move they make when the car shifts and changes gears. The way he grips the shift knob makes me wonder how they would feel going up my thighs. I bite my lower lip again at the thought of the red marks he could make around my pale skin.
“Thank you.” The heat from the vents hits my face. Instantly adding to the heat under my skin.Damn, how far away is his house?
“Not much farther now. The traffic in the city doesn’t help, though.” He unknowingly answers another one of my questions. I smileand turn towards the window, forgetting about my skirt rising, and I feel his eyes again on my thighs.
My jaw drops as his car slows down, the closer we get to what looks like the biggest parking garage ever known to man. He drives up two levels of empty spaces. His car comes to a stop in a spot that has his name painted at the top of the space.
L. Reynolds.
I have only ever seen something like this in shopping malls and airports.
“Home sweet home,” he says, putting the car in park. Still looking ahead and fidgeting with the hem of my shirt, I reach towards the handle on the passenger door—
“Don’t you fuckingthinkabout it,” he says in the same tone from earlier. Something about it still shakes me to my core. He turns to face me with a wide grin on his face. I nod as I wait for him to get out of his car. His arms go tense under his black jacket while he turns off the ignition.
