“The bartender is a guy. Since when do you go for guys? Not that it matters to me but?—”
My face burns with embarrassment. I’ve been caught in a lie, and he’s the last person I need scrutinizing me when I’m not clear on what my intentions are.
Much to my surprise, Kirby doesn’t press. He stands and winks, as if he knows something I don’t. I scowl in irritation.
“Later, buddy. Dash and I are off to hunt down the rookies and make sure they stay out of trouble.” He doesn’t invite me to join them, and I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s leaving me on my own with Aria to let whatever happens happen.
I have news for him. Nothing’s going to happen. The last thing I need is to read an article about what a bad lover I am or something equally insulting. I’m not going near her. There’s no antidote for her brand of poison, and I’ve fucking already been given a big dose. I can only hope it’s not fatal. At the least, being around her could destroy my career and my sense of self-worth.
Avoid at all costs. Approach with caution. Even better, don’t approach at all.
I stare at my beer and wonder why I’m still sitting here. A couple women at the bar eye me with obvious intent. I know how this goes. If I give any indication I’m interested, they’ll be at my table in a heartbeat. This is the kind of thing I do on every road trip with great gusto. Those two are hot, and I’m guessing the sex wouldn’t be disappointing. My gaze slides down one of their bodies, but I feel zero arousal. She’s smiling in my direction before gesturing to her friend. They’re coming my way.
I don’t want what they’re offering. They’re halfway across the room when I rise to my feet and walk toward them. They smile and lick their lips in anticipation. I nod in their direction and walk past them. They gasp with indignation, and one of them calls me a few choice words. I keep going.
Inexplicably, I’m drawn to Aria, and I can’t explain this weird attraction I’ve developed for her lately. I just gave up a wild night with two hotties. If I’m being honest, it’s because of her.
I slide onto the barstool next to her. She frowns in puzzlement.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I’m not sure.” My answer is as honest as can be. I fucking don’t know why I’m such a glutton for punishment.
“Your Barbies are waiting.” She jerks her head in the direction of the two women who’re now standing in the doorway watching us as if they can’t believe I passed them over for Aria. I’m not sure why they find my choice so surprising. Aria is hot by anyone’s standards with long jet-black hair that reminds me of a black panther I saw once in a zoo. Her face is perfect, and those tits. Damn. They’d be a delectable handful. My deviant self is having a field day imagining her naked.
“They’re not my Barbies. Besides, I prefer a challenge.” In spite of being annoyed by her comment, I chuckle because she’s predictable. I expect nothing less than for her to needle me every chance she gets. In fact, I find her displeasure regarding my personal dating choices to be amusing. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she’s jealous. But she can’t be. She hates me, right?
“I find that hard to believe.”
Since I get great pleasure out of needling her, I shoot back. “Are you envious?”
“Of them? Fuck no.”
I like a woman with a potty mouth. So far everything about her makes me horny as hell, including and especially how passionately she hates me. I can turn that passion into something constructive.
Am I deranged to be wanting to screw her brains out? Probably, but surely once I’ve had her, I’ll be done with her, just like every other woman in my life. I’m not good at long-term, or even short-term, relationships. In fact, I’m not one for encores with the same woman. I think my longest relationship was nothing more than a weeklong fling while on vacation in the Bahamas. Some would find that pathetic. I guess it is, but only if I want something more, which I don’t.
“Why are you bothering me?” She turns on her barstool to face me, and our knees bump. Instead of jumping back as if she’s been burned, she freezes. I hold her gaze and don’t look away. Desire burns in her eyes. She wants me as badly as I want her. I’m an expert at determining carnal intent, and her intent is as carnal as mine.
We’d be explosive together. I mean, we already are, but we’d blow up the entire hotel once we got started. Figuratively speaking, of course.
The way she’s looking at me I can’t decide if she wants to eat me up or spit me out.
I’m not deterred. Convincing a woman that she wants to sleep with me is one of my talents. If she rejects me, it’s probably for the best. But if she doesn’t, I’ll worry about the consequences in the morning.
I lean into her and place a hand on the side of her neck. She gasps but doesn’t pull away, which tells me a lot. I respect a woman’s boundaries, but so far, she’s not setting any.
I run my thumb across her jawbone. She sucks in a breath through her teeth. I smile in triumph.
“Why don’t we take our mutual hatred for each other and channel it into passion? I’m pretty sure we’d be combustible together.”
Aria swallows and breaks eye contact. I half expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t.
“Handling something combustible often gives a person third-degree burns.”
I shrug and grin my sexiest grin. She’s not having it. I need to up my game. My well-honed instincts tell me she’s intrigued. After all, she hasn’t turned me down yet, which tells me more than she’s saying.
I lean forward and whisper in her ear, causing her to shiver. “You know we’d have a monumental time together.”
