My body wants his bad.
“What are you suggesting?” I prompt.
“Meet me at my bar tonight. Consider it a real meet and greet before we get naked.”
I shiver, I know this is a fulfillment of my request, but I don’t think it was happening tonight.
“Are up still with me?” Jason teases. His amusement of my shock is evident in his voice.
“Y-yes. Just planning my outfit. I don’t go out much. Text me the details, please.”
I disconnect before I can spaz out any further. I need to pull on my big girl heels and go chase my orgasm. I don’t update Chloe for two reasons. One, she’ll insist on making me look like her, and I’m hyper-focused on making sure every part of me is ready for this.
After a last-minute pedicure, manicure, and whole-body wax—I was lucky someone canceled. I slip into a black dress, good enough to go out but doesn’t make me appear to be trying too hard. I accessorize with a flat ankle boot and a black leather jacket. My full body mirror reflects every angle as I spin. My hair is still in a neat ball and my lime-colored glasses are replaced with classic black. One application of matte gloss to my nude lips and my otherwise make up free face is ready for the public.
Oh, Jason: Meet me at 8:00 P.M. at Hotspot. Tell the guy at the door you’re looking for me, and he’ll make sure to find me.
I’ve read the text a few more times from the backseat of my rideshare. I’m nervous. There’s no other way to explain the slight quiver of my hand, bouncing off my knees, and me chewing the gloss off my lip. I’m marching into his hunting grounds with the explicit intent to be Jason’s prey. It terrifies and thrills me at the same time.
Me: Wish me luck. I’m entering his hunting grounds.
Chloe:??????
Laughing, I drop the phone in my bag. I stop, face-to-chest with a tall, bearded man with shoulder-length hair, tattooed sleeves, and a seductive smirk. His black, cotton shirt stretches across his biceps when he folds his arms. I’m fascinated with the intricate details on his arm tats. His forearms look so intense I can’t help but touch him. Leaning in, I study him like the statue he’s emulating and check- out his septum piercing.
“Do you have other piercings? I’ve read piercings take a super long time to heal. Did you have a cold while that piercing was healing? If so, did you have to remove it, or did it hurt when you had to blow your nose?”
His lips stretch into a grin. His voice thunders when he speaks.
“You must be Bree.”
I blink a few times. “How did you know? Never mind that. How tall are you? You seem unreal. You can tell me if you’re not mortal. I’ll keep your secret, though I will have questions…”
His head falls back in laughter. “Jason described you perfectly. I’m six-five, and I’m mortal, unfortunately.”
I nod at his answers. “We’ll revisit my piercing questions, later; a line is forming.”
“Because you’re holding it up sugar tits,” he said.
On instinct, I grab my boobs. “I wonder if they really are sweet. Especially since I’ve heard breast milk tastes like vanilla—”
The titan holds up his finger, killing my sentence while he resumes checking I.D.s. Some women shoot me an evil eye, and I’m not sure If it’s due to the wait or me distracting the not so jolly green giant. When it’s clear again, he turns back to me and extends his hand.
“People here call me Mayhem.”
“Like the insurance commercial?”
He quirks a brow and leans into my space. “No, much, much worse. Trust me when I tell you I’ve earned my name.”
Mayhem grabs my arm and ushers me forward. “Come on, love. Jason is waiting for you.”
I look around impressed with the damn near posh atmosphere. I’d excepted Jason to have a sports bar at best. Instead of alcohol-laden brutes with sports jerseys, eating wings and yelling at the television, there were men and women who’d put a lot of thought into their appearances and in various stages of courtship. The date and romantic-night-out people were either centered around the indoor fire pit—which is cool as hell—or the sets of lounge sofas outside under white canopies with soft blue lights shining. The single-and-looking were mainly at the bar with some in the karaoke room.
Servers passed with trays of food that looked top-notch. My stomach grumbled reminding me I was too nervous to eat earlier. Then, I fell into my mental loop. I was too nervous to eat because I was hyper-focused on the possibility of getting naked with my very sexy neighbor. But, that is contingent upon us having chemistry. I get sent packing if we don’t.
How do I create chemistry? What if I can’t? What if I die never knowing what it’s like to have an orgasm because I couldn’t keep my one chance interested in me? Is Jason my one chance?
I’m thrust into strong arms before I can formulate a plan to be inviting. I suck back the panic and opt to just be me.
