“Right!” I exclaim, gesticulating with my bourbon. “Now I need to be on the lookout for giant feral dogs and assassins!”
I slam my bourbon down with a little more force than necessary, almost sloshing it over the rim.
Jason smiles and says, “Are you sure he was an assassin?”
And thinking back, yes, my woman's protective gut instinct had kicked in, but nothing had actually happened.
“You’re right. Probably not anassassin, but you never know. I’ll be more aware. Maybe I’ll catch a ride home tonight. It’s only a few blocks, but I don’t really feel up to walking by myself. Especially since I want a refill on this bourbon.”
Jason’s face warms as he smiles, leaning in. We are back to our playful flirting again.
“I’ll walk you home,” he teases with a wink.
“Oh, Jason,” I laugh, “you don’t get off until like 3 a.m. I can’t hang like that anymore.”
And then I feel him.
This prickle I know—this is an awareness of McHottie. I can smell him before I see him. Leather, tobacco, and as a faint undercurrent, anger simmering like heat off the road in summer. The hair on the back of my exposed neck rises.
A large hand descends onto the bar right next to my bourbon glass and a familiar voice says in a low growl, “I’ll walk you home.”
His voice so close to my ear causes goosebumps to cascade down my side. I feel his breath ghost my neck and my shoulder involuntarily drifts up. I suppress the best possible shudder. Why does his voice affect me without even seeing his face?
Jason instinctually leans back in response to the presence behind me. To his credit, he swallows but looks at me and says, “Lieshe, you know this guy? You okay with this?”
I take in the large hand resting next to my glass, recognizing the scattered rings I had glimpsed just this morning on the street. Closer now, I can see one is some type of dragon signet and the other an ancient and thick rich gold band with years of patina and a stone winking in the light. It is so dark, it is almost black, like a drop of blood at midnight.
His other hand lands on the bar at my other side as he brings his body closer, caging me in from behind. My heart races. I feel like trapped prey, and I don’t hate it. Quite the opposite, actually.
He leans into me, placing his mouth right next to my ear again, so close I can feel his lips move and the air leave his mouth as he says my name for the first time.
“Lieshe. Shall I walk you home this evening?”
My name falls from his lips, and not only has he pronounced it correctly, but his accent and cadence make it sound heavenly. As the letters of my name spill from his mouth, I hold my breath. I feel like I'm cascading over a waterfall, mesmerized by its beauty, until I am careening over the crest, dropped into an endless pool below.
I never want to surface, rather I want to let the cold depths claim me without a fight, bubbles silently rising past me. Anyone else saying my name is now ruined for all time, even if they can pronounce it correctly.
I am insanely aroused by this man despite him not even touching me. His nearness, his voice in my ear, the way he says my name. I clench my thighs together, feeling like I have way too many clothes on, and we are in way too public of a place.
I can picture him sliding his mouth down into the junction of my neck and shoulder. I am drowning in his presence, which eats up my oxygen like being caught in the waterfall’s hydraulics.
My breathy reply comes out before my brain can even process what is going on. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
I feel him inhale as if scenting me, and then his looming presence is gone as he takes the seat next to me. Despite our proximity sitting next to each other at the bar, I miss the intensity from just a moment ago. I prefer him towering over me from behind, lips at my ear.
"My pleasure. I cannot let a beautiful woman walk home alone. Now you can leave when it pleases you."
I could listen to him speak forever with his exotic voice and formal way of speaking. He prompts me to tell tonight’s events again.
“A stray dog, you say? I love dogs. Tell me more.”
I repeat my story as Jason moves off to care for the other patrons. I’m thankful for his friendship and for him looking out for me. My new neighbor’s face grows tense as I finish, and a little harshly he says, “Promise me you will not put yourself in danger again.”
I roll my eyes and say, “Sure,” surprised when he grips my upper arm.
“Promise me,” he says urgently, giving my arm a little shake.
I meet his gaze, gone darkly serious, and tug my bottom lip between my teeth. His eyes fall to my mouth, watching me worry my lip with my teeth. He inhales sharply and tears his eyes away.
