Page 3 of His Curvy Obsession

CHAPTER TWO

. . .

Even once seated at a table, Olivia continued to glance around the crowded club, mentally making notes for the upcoming campaign. There were a lot of things they could work with. The place exuded elegance, while still feeling comfortable. She wished she felt that way. An uneasiness still swirled within her. She took a sip of her cocktail, the alcohol providing a bit of courage.

She realized some of her feelings could be caused by the wickedly handsome bartender. She couldn’t stop thinking about him. He exuded a raw sexual magnetism that made her blush. The club teemed with appealing men. Each, just like the women, were attractive in their own way. Some were young, some older. Some, like the bartender, were just right. She didn’t know what had caused such an instant attraction, but it was there.

She laughed at herself. Just like something she would do—fall for the first man she laid eyes on. Technically that wouldn’t be true, because she had smiled at the man at the end of the bar, who was just as handsome as the bartender. But he had done nothing for her.

The bartender had caused all her girly parts to wake up and take notice. Which was something since she hadn’t felt sexually interested in a man since…well, to be honest she’d never felt sexually interested in a man. Which was why she was still a virgin at the almost ripe age of thirty.

She took another sip of her cocktail, loving the sweet and tangy flavor. Maybe the alcohol in the drinks was responsible for lifting her inhibitions. Or maybe it was the fact that every time she looked his way, the bartender was looking at her. His eyes were dark and sober. And if she were so bold as to suggest, heavy with desire.

“Looks like you have an admirer,” Jenny leaned closer. “The sexy bartender hasn’t taken his eyes off you since we sat down. I told you that dress was killer!”

Olivia quickly denied her friend’s words. “Don’t be silly. He’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly? Honey, that man wants to devour you. Why don’t you go back over there and introduce yourself?”

Olivia’s eyes widened. “Are you mad? I can’t do that!”

“Why not? Carpe diem and all that! You said you were tired of living like a nun. Well, there’s your chance to do something about it. I bet he is just a demon in bed.”

Her heart raced at the thought. While everything inside her longed to accept that invitation in his eyes, her ingrained shyness held her back. What if she walked over there only to discover his attention had been focused on another woman? What if she made a fool of herself?

The damage her ex had done to her self confidence hadn’t been soul deep, but it had unsettled her. Thankfully, it was returning in increments, like a flame being coaxed back to life.

Though she tried to turn her attention to her friend, she was keenly aware of his stare burning into her. She couldn’t deny a secret thrill at capturing the interest of someone so dangerously appealing. Perhaps this birthday outing would prove more adventurous than she had imagined after all. If she could only gather the courage to seize the opportunity.

Olivia shook her head, laughing nervously. “I’m not that daring or that drunk. Can we change the subject, please? We are here to work.”

Jenny sighed. “You are being difficult as usual, but you are right.” For the next half-hour the two women talked and made notes on their phones about the things they observed and suggestions for improvements.

“Alight, that’s enough.” Jenny declared once their drinks were gone and their phones overflowed with notes. “Let’s dance. Maybe that will loosen you up. I didn’t get you out of the house just so you could hide in a dark corner all night. Don’t make me drag you out there.”

Olivia hesitated, still feeling out of her element. But the alcohol and the bartender’s glances gave her a boost of courage. “All right, already, but if I break an ankle in these heels, you’re carrying me home.”

“Deal.” Jenny pulled her out on the dance floor. They had gone dancing several times over the last few months, usually when Jenny was tired of seeing Olivia moping around her apartment. The women had been best friends since starting work at the same public relations firm. Both had risen in the ranks over the last several years, but neither had found Mr. Right. Jenny enjoyed going out with a lot of Mr. Wrongs, but not Olivia.

She didn’t see the point in investing time and energy in a relationship that wouldn’t end the way she wanted—with the white picket fence and fifty-plus years of marriage. Jenny said she wasn’t giving men a chance.

Which was why Olivia found herself dancing in a club that catered to curvy women and the men who wanted them. She wanted a man who wanted her.

Olivia let herself get lost in the music, the alcohol and pounding music helped her relax, and she closed her eyes, swaying to the beat. She felt free and alive, her body expressing a sensuality she usually kept hidden away. The spell was broken when a man grabbed her from behind, pulling her hips against him. Olivia jerked away in panic, her heart racing. Before she could protest, another man seized her wrist and yanked her toward him. “Come on baby, shake that ass,” he slurred, his grip too tight.

“Let go of me,” Olivia said, struggling in vain. The man was too drunk to care about her protests.

Suddenly the man holding her wrist was wrenched away. Her eyes widened when she realized she was being rescued by none other than the handsome bartender she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about all night. His jaw clenched in fury as he shoved the man back forcefully. The man stumbled in surprise, almost falling over. Immediately, another man was there, leading Olivia’s attacker away.

She stood, stunned by the turn of events. She wanted to thank the man for saving her from an uncomfortable situation, but at the same time she was embarrassed he had witnessed it. Before she could say anything, he was guiding her off the dance floor, one hand on the small of her back, making her feel safe. He led her past the bar to an office in the back. It was a huge office, probably the owner’s, Olivia guessed, her mind whirling.

Of all the ways to make a first impression, injuring herself definitely ranked at the bottom, Olivia thought as she followed him. Yet here she was, clutching her wrist after a stranger had gotten a little handy, while the hottest guy she had ever seen was intent on tending her injury. For a moment, she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

Once inside the office, he placed her on the plush leather couch that probably cost more than her monthly rent. This club was way, way out of her league.

And, so, sadly, was this man.

Still not saying a word, he knelt before her, gently examining her wrist with warm, skillful fingers. Olivia grew flustered, being the sole focus of his attention and concern.