I must look skeptical, because she gives me a two-fingered salute, then crosses them over her heart. “Scout’s honor, I promise.”
“You weren’t a Girl Scout.”
That makes her laugh. She rests her chin in her palm, fluttering her lashes at me. “What else?”
“Huh?”
“What else can you tell about me from just looking?” She straightens her spine a little, giving me an expectant nod. “Go on.”
“You’ve already revealed an awful lot of information.”
“Yeah, but I want to know what you see. From the director’s eye or whatever. So come on.Do me.”
The demand makes my chest tighten, the double entendre not lost as she leans in, angling her cleavage so her tits are practically falling from her dress.
They’d rest nice and heavy in my palms. Not that I intend to take things that far, but goddamn if my dick doesn’t have other ideas. After a near decade of struggling to get it up without panicking or disgust, its sudden throbbing interest is alarming.
And intriguing.
Still, the woman waits.
“Ah…” I cough, facing forward. “All right. If I had to guess, you’re not from Fury Hill?”
She shakes her head.
I fold my icy fingers together. They tingle as I rack my brain for something else. “You like theater and have been in plays, so clearly you’re an actress. Career or hobby?”
“Sore spot,” she says, her mouth twisting.
Ah. Okay, redirect. “Do you prefer lead or ensemble?”
“Preference? Lead. But all roles are important.”
“Okay, so a rising starlet perhaps.” Pursing my lips, I scan the shelves of alcohol across from the bar. “I’d guess middle child?Intrinsic need to be noticed by everyone to make up for feeling invisible to family?”
One of her eyebrows arches.
My stomach feels like it’s in knots. “And…you came into a stuffy dive bar wearing a skintight dress and fuck-me heels, so I’d be willing to bet you’re running from some kind of heartbreak. Maybe looking for a distraction.”
“Wow.” She snorts. “That’s a terrifying skill you have.”
“Directors are trained to observe. I happen to pay more attention than most.”
“To everyone?”
I peek at her from the corner of my eye. Her lips purse, and I wonder what the strawberry color of her lipstick would look like smeared onto her skin.
Swallowing, I meet her stare. “To those I find interesting.”
There’s a strange glint in her eyes though. Something distant and detached, but she seems to shake herself out of it seconds later, fixing her gaze on me once again.
She lets it dip all the way down to my feet, hooked on the bottom rung of my stool, and slowly drags her focus up the entire length of me. I feel each covered inch like a zap of electricity in my spine, and it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to make a noise of desperation.
The way my body aches for this woman I just met should be a crime.
“Do you act?” she asks, tilting her head.
“Not recently, but yes. My entire childhood. I was a theater major in college.”
