Needless to say, I was definitely feeling the effects already.
Shots of candy vodka were passed out from the waitress, and Lana and I cheers’d again before shooting them back.
“So, have you seen him?” Lana asked, and I frowned at the vagueness of her question.
“Seen who?” I asked as I sorted through a few more of the candy hearts.
“The hot ginger guy in the corner that’s been staring at you since we walked in,” Lana explained, her drink hiding her lips.
I looked up from the bowl, eyes narrowing at Lana’s attempt at being secretive. “You realize you look even more suspicious doing that, right?” I turned back to the hearts and shook my head. “In the corner… let me guess. He’s hidden in the shadows with averymysterious look about him.”
“No, he’s in full light,” Lana countered. She hugged her drink closer, and I noted the leer in her gaze as she stared in his direction. “If you don’t go talk to him, I will.”
“Here you go,” the waitress announced as she circled around, two more drinks on her tray—the pomegranate martinis I’d been eager to try.
“Wait,” I stopped her, confused by the drinks landing on the table that we hadn’t asked for. “We didn’t order these.”
“No,” the waitress agreed, a smile splitting her red-painted lips. “But he did,” she added with a nod to the man at the end of the bar—the ginger I assumed Lana had been talking about.
Well. At least Lana wasn’t completely full of shit.
He was undoubtedly the sexiest thing at that party.
Fluffy, dark ginger hair, strong brows, a pointed chin… He was structurally god-like, and I wondered what exactly was wrong with him that he was at a singles party on Valentine’s Day.
He was chatting with a few people who it looked like he knew. The deep dimple in his right cheek appeared with his crooked, flirtatious smile, that red scruff lining his jaw and upper lip at just the right length…
I took another slow sip of the sweet martini as I continued to look him over—noting the shadows of his strong shoulders creasing his cream-color sweater, his firm hand wrapping around his drink. He laughed, and his buddy shook his shoulder for a second, both regarding another friend who was animatedly saying something. My gaze skated back to his face, noticing his pale, freckle-dotted skin, now slightly illuminated by the flash of neon red from a spotlight swirling the room.
My bottom lip absentmindedly drew behind my teeth as I suddenly imagined the scruff on his jaw scratching against my inner thighs, tickling my flesh, that lopsided grin against my—
Stop, I told myself.
Butfuck, I groaned inwardly. It had been entirely too long since I’d been thoroughly railed—just blatantly fucked like a dirty whore on New Year’s. No expectations, no feelings. Just hard, toe-curling, mind-numbing, bruised in all the right places, sex.
God, I needed that.
I cursed myself for the imagery invading my mind and took another sip of my drink, intent on turning back to Lana to say something, but whatever I had in my mind wholly escaped me when my eyes lifted.
He was looking my way, and my heart skipped out of surprise.
His grin had softened, soft almond-shaped eyes holding my own, and his chin tilted just noticeably. The corner of his slightly agape mouth flinched almost like he would smirk, and he glanced down at his hands, tongue darting out over his lips before glancing in my direction once more, and this time… fucking hell. This time, that smirk appeared just faintly on his parted mouth. The way his eyes washed over me made me feel as though he meant to claim my entire being that night, perhaps even in this room behind some closet door where I would have to be gagged to stifle my moans while he bent to his knees beneath my skirt.
I couldn’t control my shifting weight or tightening thighs. Heat spread on my cheeks, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the way he stared or the strength of the drinks.
“Water,” I blurted out before the waitress could leave the table. “Please.”
The waitress snickered at me but nodded and turned to retrieve it.
“Look at that,” Lana drawled, toying with the straw in her drink that she was still nursing. “We have a winner.”
“I bet he’s a prick,” I said quickly, that heat on my face now spreading down my neck and across my chest. “Or doesn’t know how to use his cock. Someone that pretty can’t do it all.”
“I have a feeling you’re going to find out,” Lana replied.
“Hi, ladies,” a man announced as he and his friend approached. Handsome and with dark hair, I couldn’t deny my attraction to them any more than I could with the other men that had approached. The one who had spoken was eyeing Lana as though he knew her, however, and I had to hide my grin behind my drink.
“It’s Lana, right?” he asked.
