“Mia …”
And, oh, he’s still holding me, his palm warm on my skin.I’m so glad I chose this shirt; there’s nothing to get in the way of his thumb stroking the inside of my arm.It goes straight to my head, weightless and joyful, like the third mimosa before brunch.
“Mmhmm?”
He’s staring.He’s … smiling?Gosh, his eyes are the prettiest shade of blue I’ve ever seen.
“Fuck,” he whispers, and has any word ever sounded so good?“You don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”
No, I don’t.My mind has gone soft and mellow, my whole body ready to melt into him.Is this going to happen every time he touches me?
“Have dinner with me.”
Wait, is he …
“Yes.”Date or not, there’s no other answer.
His lips curl deeper into a smile.Fuck, he has dimples.“Mia,” he repeats.I’m going to need him to keep saying it.“I’m going to kiss you now.”
Oh good.
He leans closer, his lips brushing against mine.“Say yes, Mia.”
“Yes.”
THE END
* * *
start over
I stare at the pink concoction before me with concern.I may be a little wet behind the ears, but even I know what a margarita looks like.This isn’t it.
“Sorry.”
The only sign the bartender has heard me is a slight turn of their head in my direction.
“I didn’t order this.”
A man slides into the seat beside me.“That’s from me, love.”
Oh boy.
I’m here on assignment.The club scene in Chance isn’t usually worth a piece inThe Observer, but the owner has powerful friends, and those friends wanted a showpiece, so … here I am.An hour before opening and being accosted by—fuck—the hottest man I’ve ever seen.
Blue denim, black leather boots, the body of a Greek god … and just enough scruff that I want to sink my claws in and feel the scratch of it against every inch of my skin.
“I’m Lucky.”
I bet he is.
Even without the black eyeliner and sheer shirt, I’d recognize him from the press release.
I hold out my hand.“Mia Finnegan.”
His hand is soft and warm.“From the paper, right?”He nods as I do.“Figured if you’re stuck here to watch us set up, you should at least try the best they have to offer.”
The lilt in his accent spins the flirtation into smooth silk.
