If she got home at the same time as most overachieving professionals, she’d find the package on her doorstep any time from an hour or so ago to three or four hours from now. It was a big window to maintain the low-level apprehension I’d been carrying. I’d left her exactly the way she said she wanted—with a kiss and the promise of a repeat if she chose,but without looking back. It was easier said than done considering the way the scent of her, the feel of her under my hands, and those big blue eyes had worked their way under my skin. But necessary. I was pretty sure if I pushed for a second date, or hell, even a date at all and not a hookup, Charlotte was more likely to freeze my balls than agree.
I didn’t have any doubt she was more comfortable with ball freezing than emotional vulnerability. I was also clear which side of the equation I wanted to be on, so I waited. And distracted myself withDiscovery of Witches.
“I need a greyhound, a Manhattan, and a double Knob Creek on the rocks, please and thank you.” Jen, the new server, leaned against the bar, her forearms resting against the edge of the bar in a way that showcased her ample cleavage.
I didn’t bother with ano dating between employeespolicy. With the hours restaurant people worked, casual and even not-so-casual hookups weren’t uncommon. As long as everyone acted like adults at work, I didn’t have to care. And it was a thousand times better than going home with customers. Thedo as I say, not as I doirony was not lost on me. But I wasn’t an employee, and I didn’t cross that particular line. Ever.
The sooner the beautiful Jen realized that, the better. Maybe I was misreading, but I doubted it. For some servers, flirting was as natural as breathing. It meant nothing beyond the superficial and left everyone feeling better for it. I might be wrong, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the case for the woman leaning against the bar, watching me like she was trying to figure out how to plant a flag on my summit. Jesus, I was turning into an arrogant old fuck.
I wasn’t a misogynist by nature. I needed to get a handle on myself before I did something embarrassing. More evidence that Charlotte had me twisted up beyond my normal state of unrest.
I doubted Clairmont had these kinds of problems. Which meant I was comparing myself to a centuries-old vampire. Which made me more adolescent girl than grown-ass man. At least I was the only one who knew. If Ben caught a whiff of me doing something so fucking juvenile, I’d never live it down. I had to correct my angsty self-indulgence before I lost my dude card.
I juiced the grapefruit for the greyhound because canned juice is a travesty and flamed the rosemary for the garnish. I used rye whiskey for our Manhattans, a small-batch vermouth, and the house-made artichoke bitters. The rye was the star of the drink, but the cherry garnish was a damn fine second. I found a supplier of the plumpest, juiciest dark cherries from Washington state and soaked them in a blend of liqueurs I mixed myself.
Opting for a dry vermouth instead of sweet let me add a splash of the juice from the cherries before sliding a pair of the beauties on a thin metal skewer and placing it on the rim of the glass. The small skewers were a pain in the ass to wash, and we lost a bunch of them. But I loved the almost fairy tale reference it gave the cocktail. The Knob Creek was easy. I poured the liquor over a racquetball-sized ball of ice in a rocks glass, and slid the drinks across the bar to the waiting Jen.
I looked up just in time to see Charlotte walking through the front door. She was gorgeous. Her slacks were perfectly tailored to show off her amazing ass, and I itched to get my hands on her, to feel her warmth through the gray silk of her blouse. Her hair hung around her shoulders in waves, and I flashed back to what it felt like to have all that silky softness trailing over my chest as she kissed her way down my body.
Christ, I was hard already, and the woman was barely in the room.
It only took a moment for her to scan the bar until her gaze met mine. There was a flash of genuine pleasure before she schooled her face into something more calculating. Not cold, just more controlled. I’d seen her out of control, naked and writhing under the delicious onslaught of my mouth. It made it easy to recognize its opposite.
“What an unexpected pleasure,” I said, sliding a little extra emphasis on the last word. It was the truth. I’d been hoping she’d show up in person but expecting it seemed overly optimistic. Now that she was standing in front of me, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more. Except maybe a repeat of our night together. Or some variation. There were still countless things I wanted to do to her beautiful body, dozens of ways I could make her come.
“I had to come thank you in person for the gift. They’re lovely. You didn’t have to, but I’m so glad you did. I didn’t know that I needed them, and I love them.” She climbed up onto the barstool.
The force of her personality made it easy to forget her diminutive height, but I’d loved the way she felt tucked in against me. And I loved the way I could cover her with my body.
“You can’t make a proper cocktail without a decent set of tools. I’ve found cocktails to be one of the best paths to collect kisses. I think you should have more of both in your life.” Why did I say that? I didn’t want her to think I did this kind of thing all the time. I also didn’t want her to know how important our time together was to me and freak out. It was a ridiculous needle to thread. “Speaking of which...trust me?”
“With the kisses or the cocktails?” She tipped her head to the side, blinking inky-dark lashes.
For a moment, she looked a bit like a grown-up Alice in Wonderland, and I felt as hypnotized as the Mad Hatter. I had no doubt men underestimated her, at their peril. Pinning me with her blue-eyed gaze, she arched a perfectly groomed brow, and I vowed never to be one of those men.
“Both, cher.” I let some of the heat I felt slide into my gaze before turning to grab the cocktail shaker from the bar rail. “But just with the cocktail for now. I’ve got something I think you’d like.”
“Please,” she said, motioning to the empty space in front of her. “I’m at your mercy.”
“I doubt that would ever be the case, but I’d love a chance to try.” And I would. Charlotte stretched out on a bed, bare and spread open at the mercy of my hands and mouth, moved itself to the very top of myyes pleaseto-do list. “For now, let’s stick with the gin.”
I knew she liked gin and bitter tastes, but I wanted to push a bit and see how she felt about sweeter drinks. Nothing cloying, no one needed that, but a modified French 75 could be perfect. I liked the classic drink with lime instead of lemon for a bit more bite. Filling a shaker with ice, I squeezed a whole lime and added an equal part simple syrup before topping it with gin—not the herbal infused one from the freezer. This one had almost peppery notes.
I shook the mixture, watching the way Charlotte watched me. The woman’s focus was this side of intoxicating. Straining the drink into a delicate flute, I finished it with a good dry champagne and a lime twist. I set the flute on the coaster in front of her and waited for her to take a sip. She picked up the drink, sniffing the cocktail before pressing the glass to her full pink lips. Lips I’d imagined wrapped around my cock as I fucked her mouth and she drove me past the point of control with her tongue.
I rested my elbows on the bar, needing the reminder of the expanse of wood between us to keep from moving too fast. It would be the easiest thing in the world to call Jack from out of the back to finish the last of the shift. We hadn’t been busy all night. He could cover my shift until close, and I could take Charlotte home and get started on my naked to-do list.
But even if she said yes to that—which was a big fucking if—it wouldn’t get me closer to my ultimate goal of Charlotte for more than a hookup. I had to figure out how to get her to agree to more time. Orgasms were definitely part of it, but they couldn’t be the whole thing—not if I had a chance of seducing more than just her body. I wasn’t sure when my goal had shifted to more. Probably sometime during the night when she was eating theomelet I’d made her and watching me like I was the best kind of puzzle and she intended to figure out every piece. Maybe it was the challenge of getting a powerhouse of a woman like Charlotte to surrender to her pleasure, which would absolutely be my pleasure.
Regardless of when, my interest had clearly shifted. I didn’t know how much more I wanted from the sexy-as-fuck, focused attorney, but I wanted more. Seeing the way she responded to things like the herbs in the gin, the buttery taste of the eggs, and my mouth on her skin made me want to explore more. To find out what she loved and give her as much of it as I could so I could watch her reaction. Listening to her talk, I’d gotten the impression that she kept herself on as tight a rein as she expected from the rest of the world. I wanted a chance to be the one helping her take flight. Charlotte flying free would be a glorious thing.
“Well?” I asked, pulling my mind back to the present and the woman licking her lips in front of me. It was just a drink, but it was one I’d made just for her, with flavors I thought she’d like. I wanted to see if my guess had been right.
“You don’t need me to tell you.” She shook her head, her lips curving in a wicked smile. “You already know exactly how good you are.” Her words were laced with much more than just her opinion of my bartending skill, and I grinned back at her.
“I have an idea, cher.” I leaned across the bar, close enough to breathe in the scent of her. The spicy rose scent I remembered, warm from her skin as my lips moved over her body. My cock was hard enough to get behind any plan that got us closer. It took all the restraint I had to keep from closing the distance between us to tug her plump pink lip between my teeth and lick the taste of gin and champagne from her mouth. “But I still like to hear you say it.”
“It’s delicious, Ford. The lime is perfect. I wouldn’t have thought gin and champagne would work, but they do.”
