“So, um, is that why you come here?”
I chuckle. “To practice my quick fingers?”
Blush covers her face. “No. I meant to play pinball? You aren’t drinking, so I thought maybe you came to play pinball.”
“Oh, no. I’m not drinking because they gave me a shot of Toradol at the game for my shoulder.” My left hand runs over the injection site.
“Then why are you here?”
“It’s my favorite spot for when I need to clear my head. I know I’ll be left alone. Most of the regulars know nothing about hockey.”
“You? Wanting to be left alone? I don’t believe that for a minute.” She laughs.
“Is it that hard to believe I don’t want to be in the spotlight?”
Another melodic laugh leaves her, and she plays with the curls of her hair, shaking her head. “It’s just hard to believe that the man who was thirty minutes late to our first date because he was outside of the restaurant posing for photos wants to be left alone now.”
“People change.”
“Maybe so,” she muses. Her gaze travels down to my cock and then back up to me. “Let’s hope some things about you haven’t.”
Her mouth tips into a smirk. There’s a daring glare in her baby blues, and my dick twitches below my sweatpants.
She’s definitely thinking what I’m thinking.
Leaning forward, I invade her space and tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear. Her breath hitches as I continue to move in closer.The scent of sweet vanilla perfume overwhelms my senses, and my cock grows harder. “I can assure you nothing has changed in that department, Sugar,” I whisper into her ear. My fingers trail across the line of her jaw and then drop, causing her mouth to part slightly.
“I can see that,” she says. “You’re still as cocky as you ever were.”
“And you don’t like that?” I challenge.
“No, I think I do.”
Her phone buzzes against the bar top, interrupting our moment, causing me to lean back onto my barstool, putting unwanted space between us.
I watch as she swipes up on the screen, and her face falls. “He can’t actually be serious,” she mutters under her breath. Locking the screen, she slams the phone back onto the wooden surface.
“Who was that?” I ask, hesitantly. I know I shouldn’t pry into her personal life. That’s never who we were to one another, but I also don’t like that look on her face.
She hesitates for a moment, glancing towards me and then back to where the phone sits. “Raph,” she says, running her hand through her hair. Her phone buzzes again and then again. “What a fucking dick.”
“Is that him again?” I ask.
“I just want him to leave me alone so I can forget about him.” Gone is the wild, flirty, confident girl who was just here. There’s no fire in her eyes. She looks sad, and I hate it.
“Sugar, you deserve so much more than him.”
She looks up at me with a glossy gaze, and I watch as she swallows down whatever feelings are flooding her head. This time, it’s my breath that hitches as she leans forward, enclosing in on my space. The sweet smell of her perfume overwhelms me, and I find myself wanting to be the man who makes her forget how she’s feeling. The man who makes her feel good tonight.
“Show me what I deserve,” she says, her voice breathy with need. “Take me home and show me. Just like you used to do.”
Without thinking, my hands move to caress either side of her face, and our mouths meet. Her lips part, letting me in.
Deep down, I know what this is. This is her using me to get back at the person who hurt her, and for a split second I consider stopping to protect my heart, but the taste of her tongue has my dick throbbing and my heart railing against my chest. Thereason doesn’t matter. I want to be the one who erases the bad night she’s had, even if it’s just for tonight. My hands trail down to her hips, pulling her from her barstool and causing her to straddle my leg.
She writhes against my thigh and moans into me as I shift my leg upward, creating the perfect friction against her clit. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she moves her hands through my hair, deepening our kiss.
I hear a throat clear behind me, and it dawns on me we’re still sitting at the bar.
