“Absolutely, Brian,” he said, leaning against the panel that separated the bar into sections. “What else would you drink in an Irish pub?”
“You’d be surprised,” the bartender said with an Irish accent.
Ron laughed. “Yeah, I probably would be.”
Zoe released Spence’s thigh and resumed eating her meal. But she glanced at her employee between bites, until Spence nudged her with his elbow. “Stop looking at him,” he said, his voice low. “People can tell they’re being watched.”
“You’re right,” she said, using her fork to poke at the remains of her dinner. “Stop me if you catch me looking over there again.”
“I’ll blow a puff of air into your ear,” he said, leaning close. “A lot more intimate. And fun.” He sent a small puff of air toward her ear and savored Zoe’s resulting shiver.
She turned to look at him, her eyes dark with only a tiny rim of green. “So the games are starting early tonight. And in public.” She slid toward him and nipped his earlobe. “Game on, Spence.”
When her teeth closed gently over his lobe, electricity shot through him. Like he’d been tasered. Zoe’s voice was a ripple of silk over his skin. Arousing as hell. He smiled as he took his last bite of cod. After wiping his hands on his napkin, he let his hand trail up the inside of Zoe’s leg. When he could go no farther, he brushed one knuckle over the seam of her pants between her legs. He bit his lip to keep from grinning as she sucked in a sharp breath.
Satisfied with his opening salvo, he drew his hand away.
She turned her head slowly to look at him, and he smiled at her. “Your move,” he mouthed at her.
She settled against the cushion that was the back of the bench and draped her arm along the top of it. Her fingers were close enough to his neck to feel the heat from her skin, but she wasn’t touching him.
He pressed back a little farther, to make it easy for her to reach him, but she only smiled as she watched the band members wheel their amps into the pub.
She better not try to leave the booth, because if he had to stand up, everyone close by would see what she’d done to him.
Finally he felt the delicate sweep of a fingertip along his nape. Her touch was so light that he wondered if he’d imagined it. Then she did it again, dipping beneath the collar of his polo shirt. Nope. Not his imagination.
His skin prickled, and the hairs on his arms rose. He shifted on the bench and eased closer to Zoe. Their thighs were touching, but he needed more. Wanted more.
He wanted to drag her out of the pub and back to the car. Twine his fingers with hers as he broke all the speed limits driving back to her place. He’d have her naked in the elevator before they’d even reached her condo. Screaming before they made it to her bed.
When she eased her hand back into his lap, she pressed her fingers into his thigh. Slid her index finger back and forth, getting closer and closer to where he wanted her hand.
So he turned to watch the musicians setting up and draped his arm casually over her shoulder. His arm dangled in front of her shoulder, close enough to her right breast that he brushed his fingertip over the hard tip. Her chest rose and fell too quickly, and he turned and whispered in her ear, “Having fun yet?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, leaning close to his ear and touching it gently with her tongue. “How about you?”
He turned to look at her, smiling at the color in her cheeks and her parted lips. “Best time ever. Hope you have a good time here tonight, because I don’t think we’ll be back. I won’t be able to walk in the door of this place without getting hard.”
“Are you hard now?” she asked, leaning close and touching his ear with her tongue again.
“Painfully so. Are you wet?”
“Drenched,” she murmured.
“Maybe we need to leave.” He brushed his finger over her nipple again, barely touching it, and she sucked in a tiny breath. “Focus on… other things.”
“Too late,” she said, nodding toward their left. “Ron has seen me.”
Spence removed his arm from her shoulder, although his fingers tingled with the need to touch her again. As he struggled for control, he watched the guy approach.
Ron was in his early thirties, tall and fit, and he’d narrowed his eyes at Zoe. As the guy approached, Spence watched carefully and was surprised to see a flash of anger, quickly hidden, when Zoe turned toward Ron.
Why would he do that? According to Zoe, Ron was the one who’d told her about this pub. This band.
Was he pissed because she was here with him? Did Ron want to date Zoe? Huh. That made the most sense. No other reason for him to be angry with her.
Spence would keep an eye on him tonight. Ron was a puzzle, and he loved solving puzzles. “Ron,” she said, calm and smiling as if she hadn’t just been teasing Spence into a frenzy of lust. “I took your advice and came to hear this band you like so much.”