“Thanks for the drink,” I say.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugs. “I own the joint.”
“So I heard,” I joke, and he shakes his head with a slight chuckle.
“Tell me, Tessa. Do you have any more so called ‘drink dates’ this evening?” He gives me a wink, and I blush like the silly girl from Alabama I am. No one has ever really winked at me. Well … no one over six feet tall and handsome enough to land on a billboard. “Are there any more suitors I need to fight off?”
He’s teasing me with his words, and then his touch, as his fingers trace small circles on the inside of my wrist. It feels like he’s touching me everywhere. I can’t imagine what it would feel like if he actually kissed me. I seriously might faint. I’ll never laugh at the word “swoon” again, that’s for sure. It’s become my permanent state around him.
“Let me check my calendar.” I smile up at him and shimmy my shoulders. He narrows his eyes, then gives me a sexy smirk. He realizes it’s my turn to tease him.
“Then you’re all mine now, and coming with me.”
Whoa. Did he just say I’m his?
He weaves his fingers through one of my hands and pulls me away from the bar. We start walking toward the exit to the lobby.
“Wait. Where are you taking me?”
“On the best damn drink date of your life.”
22
Tessa
Hand in hand, Barclay hustles me out of the restaurant into the hotel lobby. I trail behind him by a step and try to catch up, but his long strides make it impossible. I give his hand a yank before he starts dragging me along the shiny marble floor.
He peers over his shoulder with a mischievous spark in his eye. “Having trouble keeping up?”
I shoot him a menacing glare, and he stops dead in his tracks. Finally.
“I can only go so fast in these heels. Not to mention, you’re a giant compared to me.”
“I should just throw you over my shoulders. It seems like something a giant would do after scaring away your date and making you mine.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Which side would you like, the right or left?”
“Barclay,” I breathe … or more like moan. The idea of him going caveman sounds hot as hell and makes me dizzy.
“I’m in a mood tonight, little girl.” His dark eyes are set on smolder, and he moves toward me, like a tiger ready to pounce.
Before I can even blink, Barclay wraps his hands around my waist and hoists me up to his shoulder. Thanks to gravity and a gentle push of his hand on my lower back, I bend and grab for something, anything, to anchor myself. My hands find his firm, denim-covered ass. I squeeze him and let out a squeal. It’s the first time I’ve touched a man in a forbidden zone. I hook my thumbs inside his back pockets and hang on.
Barclay begins to walk forward, and I bounce in rhythm to his cadence. I raise my head, and my hair swishes around my face like a moving curtain. People gasp and mutter all around us, because why wouldn’t they? I want to peek out and see their expressions, since I’m sure hot guys carrying their dates around like this happens all the time in Manhattan. I snort at my own thoughts, then splay my hands over his hard cheeks and try to push up so I can see the people in the lobby.
Everyone, including the doormen and bellhops, are standing still with their eyes flashing between my face and Barclay.
“Oh my God, Barclay. Someone’s taking photos of us.” I turn my face away to avoid the man with his phone aimed at us. Thankfully, Barclay picks up his pace as we come to the hotel exit.
The same doorman who wouldn’t give me a smile the other morning, sends me a thumbs-up. I wave at him as we pass by. Talk about awkward.
“Stay down,” Barclay commands as he walks us through the spinning turnstile door.
Once outside, and a few steps later, he swats me on my bottom, and I squeal again. It’s the first time a man’s touched me there.
After placing his hands on my hips, he eases me down the front of his body until my feet meet the sidewalk. I gaze up into his eyes as he wraps his arms around me.
“What just happened?” I ask, because his behavior confuses me. Yesterday, he left me here on the sidewalk without looking back, and now he’s hauling me out of a hotel like a sack of potatoes.
“I let go,” he says, with an exhilarating smile. One I’ve never seen on him before.
“How did this letting go thing feel?”
“Damn good.” He bends down and kisses my forehead. I feel the light caress of his lips all the way to my toes. He releases me from his hold and grabs my hand. “But we’ll probably make Page Six.”