What did I do the last time the team had extra time between missions? Jax and I went to the Caribbean and fucked our way through the vacationing hotties. I hadn’t partied that hard or fucked that many babes since I got my first military leave in my twenties.
It doesn’t matter where we go, when women see team guys in a bar they flock like bees to honey. As long as everyone knows the rules, it’s just a little fun with no phone calls the next day.
What’s worse is that I’m not sure I really regret that one, some of those girls were off-the-chart hot.
I’m going to fucking hell, that’s for sure.
I lift my hand for another shot and as the bartender refills my glass, the subtle scent of lavender mixed with, I inhale again, what is that, vanilla, drifts across my nose. Looking over my shoulder to my right, the slim back of a woman with thick black hair falling in waves between her shoulder blades and down her back is moving away from me.
She glides between the tables and people, her movements are fluid, almost like she’s floating. Her back is straight like a dancer and her slim hips sway gracefully as she walks. Her snug jeans hug - fuck me - a perfect heart-shaped ass that has just enough padding to hold onto, and are tucked into boots that look like they might be actual ranch boots.
Choosing a small two-person table next to the windows looking out over the pool, she sheds her leather jacket and hangs it over the back of her seat to reveal a form-fitting sweater that shows off golden shoulders. As I’m trying to decide if she is a B cup or a C cup, her eyes lift and catch me looking.
Fuck.
Too late to pretend I wasn’t just staring at her tits, I give her a smile and a lazy two-finger military salute.
Her face doesn’t change expression as she looks back down at her table and sets her purse in her seat, but then I’m surprised when she starts to walk in my direction. Her eyes lock on mine and as she gets closer, I can see that they are moss green, and she’s beautiful.
She may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
Just as she’s about two yards from me, she shifts her eyes to the bartender behind me before leans against the bar next to me. Ouch. Intentional dis after she caught me looking at her, gotta give her points, that was pretty smooth.
Her soft scent wraps around me and I catch myself taking a deep breath to breathe her in. Her arm is right next to mine, and I curl my fingers into my palm to resist the urge to seehow soft her skin is.
“Hey, Sofia, how are you tonight?” Her voice is soft and her full, rosebud lips sit under a straight, narrow nose with freckles that spread to each cheek. It looks like she tries to cover them with makeup, but I think they’re cute.
“Hey, Sloane, I’m good. You want your usual?”
She smiles and her whole face lights up, “Yes, please.”
A weird desire I’ve never felt before spreads through me, I want to be the one to make her face light up like that.
Even though she is beautiful, something about her is sad, or maybe vulnerable, and something in me wants to wrap myself around her to protect her. Another whisper in my head says ‘mine’.
My cock twitches in my pants as I think of what it would be like to suck that full, lower lip between mine. She’s about five-seven with a slim, willowy frame, and no ring on her finger.
You may pass go. My alcohol-soaked brain sees the Monopoly man bowing and stepping to the side to give me access.
“You got it.” The bartender says and turns away.
She drops some bills on the counter and crosses her arms in front of her as she leans on the edge of the bar. I realize that I haven’t looked away from her since she started walking toward me and she takes a deep breath before she turns her head to look at me.
The bright smile has left her face and been replaced with a smirk, “You’re a charmer, huh?”
Recognizing the sarcasm, since in my drunken state I was ogling her, I grip the bill of my ballcap and rub the top of my head before I set it back on. Obviously, the whiskey has numbed the part of me that knows how to be a gentleman, and my dick has taken point.
“My apologies, it appears that I’ve had too much to drink, and my manners are not as they should be.” I’ve exaggerated my southern drawl in an effort to be charming.
She doesn’t look away, the smirk is still there, but she sighs in exasperation before she exaggerates politeness, “Oh, another drunk cowboy.” She wraps her fingers around the glass that the bartender just set in front of her and pushes off the bar. “Surprise, surprise.”
Well, shit.
Most men would just tuck their tail, take the loss, and go back to drowning all common sense, but I’m not most men. The pull I feel to her is something that I have never felt before and even in the wake of rejection, I’m determined to see her smile a real smile, one that I put on her face.
Challenge accepted.
Sliding my empty tumbler away, I look at the bartender, “Put her drinks on my tab. Can I get a beer, please?”
