Page 65 of Bastard Bartender

I grab his hand and walk him toward my office. He stops to look at the pictures on the wall of the hallway, all of various non-football events we’ve had here—from monster trucks to daredevil motorbike entertainment and even greyhound racing.

In my office, he takes a second to check out the space before closing the door behind us. His back is against it, and his arms are crossed. I lean on the front of my desk with my hands gripping the edge. There’s something about his gaze that’s heated yet curious.

“I call bullshit. You came here for a reason,” I state.

That lopsided smile tilts up on his face. “I did. I came here to see you.”

“You could have called. I would’ve been happy to meet you somewhere.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asks, yet I don’t have an answer. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes. “I was half-expecting you to show up at the lounge last night.”

“Well, I thought about that, but …”

He raises his chin. “But what? Did you want to see me?”

“Yes.”

“My phone didn’t ring. I was surprised to wake up this morning and see you had gone an entire day without calling.”

“We’ve gone full days without talking to each other,” I counter.

“Yeah, but you don’t strike me as the kind of girl who fucks a guy in a parking lot and then doesn’t want to see him the next day.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything really. I want to be blasé and act as if I were cool and sexually sophisticated. Problem is, I’m not. Not in the way I’m trying to be.

My shoulders fall as I confess, “You don’t do clingy. I was making sure I didn’t come off as that girl.”

His eyes glance down at the floor as he smiles to himself, and then he looks back at me, pushing off the door and taking a stance in front of me.

“Evette, one of the things I like about you is that you have your own life and interests and friends. Your independence is refreshing. It’s true; I don’t want a woman who is on me twenty-four/seven, who’s only around to do the things that I want to do. It never works out for me.” He raises a thumb and grazes my cheek as he takes a tendril of hair and pushes it behind my ear. “But I like you. I don’t want you to stop being who you are because you think it’s who I want you to be. If you want to come to the bar with a friend and hang out because it’s what you want to do, then don’t hesitate because you’re worried about what I’m gonna think.” His hand travels down my neck and rests on my clavicle. “While I don’t like clingy, I do like you.”

He leans forward and entangles his lips with mine. This time, there’s a lot more tongue than in the reception area, and his hands are roaming down the front of my shirt.

“Who knew you were such a romantic?” I say as he trails kisses down my neck.

“You just have to live in the moment, babe. And in this moment, there is nowhere I’d rather be than with you. Which is why I’m here to whisk you off your feet.”

“Err, I can’t. I’m a touch behind with my work. Apparently, someone gave me a lot to think about today.”

His brows rise in intrigue. “Distracted?”

“Very. And this isn’t helping.”

“Have you ever fooled around on your desk?” He parts my legs and settles his body in between them, pressing his groin up against mine. The feeling is heavenly but—

“Nicolás!” I whisper-yell as I swat his chest. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He leans down and sucks lightly on my neck, sending shivers straight down to my core.

“Someone could walk in,” I pant at the feel of his growing erection.

“I already locked the door.”

His mouth moves from my neck to my jaw while his hands are in my hair and on my back. My core is clenching as he envelops me, causing me to whimper.

“This is too wrong. I can’t be the girl who bangs her boyfriend on her desk.”

My eyes widen as I realize I just called Nic my boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to care because his mouth is curving into a Cheshire grin.