She stepped up to the bar, perched on a stool, and threw down her purse. Then she thumbed in a text to Georgie. He’s not here.
Georgie texted back, Bastard. Just leave. You’re too good to wait around for him.
That was Georgie. She didn’t mince words. And she didn’t take shit from anyone, which was probably why men swarmed around her in a way Eva could only dream of. Eva considered leaving, but the more she thought about it, the worse she felt. She’d come here tonight for one thing. And she couldn’t go back to her cats. Not just yet.
The bartender approached her. As she opened her mouth to order, he said, “You’re Eva?”
She straightened, surprised. “Yes.”
He slid a vodka martini, her favorite drink, over to her. Underneath the glass, on top of the Sky Deck napkin, was a folded note. She felt her face flush as she reached for it. He’s going to tell me he made a mistake. He’s going to say he can’t make it.
The breeze on her body suddenly felt like ice, prying the goosebumps up from her skin. She unfolded the note and read, Go to the restroom.
Eva wrinkled her nose. Well, okay. Peeing. That sounds romantic.
She’d heard a hundred stories about how smooth Jack was. She’d seen him in action enough as well. He could charm the panties off any girl, just by leaning in, touching her hand, and talking to her like she was the most important woman in the world. Eva had always thought she’d probably faint dead away if he ever focused his attention on her. Not that she hadn’t fantasized about it—she had, a million times, but a bathroom break had never been part of those dreams. Her knees wobbled as she took a small sip of her drink, then a larger one.
Then she downed the whole thing in one long gulp. She needed it.
Licking her lips, she slid off the stool and headed down the hallway toward the restrooms, her equilibrium slightly off in the four-inch peep-toe heels Georgie had insisted on. When she closed the door behind her, she checked her reflection in the mirror. Despite the alcohol swirling inside her, she looked terrified.
She took a deep breath. Then another. “Calm down, dammit!” she commanded in her best, gruff Georgie voice. “You can do this.”
She opened the door and stepped outside again, feeling only slightly better about herself. She didn’t have time to worry much more, however. Before she could head out of the hallway, a door opened to her side and a heavy hand clamped around her upper arm, pulling her into a darkened room.
She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dimness as a voice hissed, “Don’t ever drink a cocktail that you haven’t personally watched the bartender pour.”
Jack.
Talking like that, he sounded like Antonio. She opened her mouth to tell him she could take care of herself, but before she could, his mouth found hers, needy, urgent. His tongue expertly delved into her mouth, staking a claim.
She’d spent so many nights thinking about the taste and feel of his lips, but the fantasy could never have matched this. He tasted like she’d thought he would, like mint and Cubans and that insanely sexy aftershave that he wore.
Holy crap, Jack Bennett is kissing me. The thought flittered through her mind for the briefest of moments before she went completely numb to everything but the intense sensation of heat—everywhere, exploding like a thousand fireworks inside her.
Jack wrapped his arms around her and tangled his fingers in her hair, keeping her mouth to his, assuring her there was nothing half-hearted about this encounter. Either he wanted this as much as she did, or he was very good at pretending.
No, this wasn’t pretend. He was in. All in. His tongue, lips, teeth, and powerful chest pressed to hers.
His lips drifted down her jaw line, and he tugged aside the fabric of her dress, finding her collarbone. His hand roughly cupped her breast, his thumb rubbing the outline of her hard nipple. His touch sent sparks racing through her. Her entire body screamed with arousal as he tilted her head back, leaving her to stare helplessly up at the ceiling light. Her head spun as his tongue snaked its way down her neck.
“First lesson,” he rasped against her skin. “The public quickie. Tell me you’re ready.”
Public? Was this public? It was dark, with a dim red light casting shadows on lush burgundy walls and the notes of some faraway jazz music skittering through the air. She had no idea where she was anymore, but it didn’t matter—right now, she would do anything with him. Anything, anywhere, screw whoever saw. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but couldn’t make her vocal muscles cooperate.
“Tell me,” he urged, massaging her breast harder through the fabric of her blouse.
“Yes!” she squeaked out, as she realized his other hand was at the hem of her skirt, roughly edging it up over her thighs.
“Do as I tell you,” he said, his voice calm and controlled, as if he were in the boardroom. “Turn around.”
She did as she was told, whirling to find herself staring into a floor length mirror. She felt his hard chest push up against her back, his
hands sliding up the sides of her skirt, exposing her ass, and watched her own eyes go dark with hunger.
* * *
He’d been hard since he’d started thinking about playing this game with her, and now, Jack was on the verge of exploding. Holy fuck, this woman was unbearably hot.