Chapter Two
Jason leaned backin the booth and sipped his scotch, as the woman from the bar made a path for him. The woman was pretty enough, a killer body revealed by skin tight jeans, thick wavy auburn hair that had caught his attention earlier, and sexy green eyes laser focused on him. A few seconds later, she stood next to the booth, a hint of challenge in the tilt of her chin.
“Anyone sitting here?”
He obligingly slid further into the booth and gestured next to him. “You are, darling.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she almost purred.
“You came over to me, darling. So I’m thinking things are looking up.”
She pressed her leg against him, heat burning through the denim, reminding him of his year-long celibacy. His cock stirred, awakening a hunger deep inside. A slow, sensual burn spread from his groin in anticipation of the possibilities ahead. The perfect recreation before signing his fucking degrading contract tomorrow, selling his life, his career, and his soul. But for this one last night, he could do what he wanted.
A blonde woman slid into the booth on his other side, pinning him between the two women, her eyes shooting daggers at him. It had been awhile since he’d had two women, but the way the second one was skewering him with her gaze, he doubted she was on board with a threesome. Stranger things used to happen with groupies. But he wasn’t that guy anymore, at least not after tomorrow. Had to pay the fucking bills and if it meant sacrificing his pride, he’d do it for one last shot.
The first woman frowned at the second, and then pasted on a big smile and held out her hand to him in an oddly formal gesture. “I’m Stacia. And you are?”
Shaking hands. Not your typical beginning to a one-night stand but nothing about this evening was usual. He shook her hand. “Jason. So what’s a gorgeous woman like you doing in a place like this?”
The blonde snorted. “Seriously? Is that your best line?”
“Sophie.” Stacia shot her a warning look. “Ignore her. She’s appointed herself my keeper.”
He leaned back and cocked his head. “Do youneeda keeper?”
She lowered her eyes and a small smile played about her lips. “No.”
He glanced over at Sophie, her protectiveness palpable. Definitely no threesome tonight. The perverse side of him, and Stacia’s teasing side, brought out a playful attitude. He bent toward Stacia, slipped a hand around her shoulders to toy with the auburn tendrils that had been calling him since he had first seen her. She shivered but leaned into his caress. He stage-whispered in her ear, “Your friend doesn’t seem to agree. So, what are you doing here?”
Her laugh rang out, sending an unfamiliar feeling through him. Happiness?
She ran her fingers lightly up and down his arm, warming his skin. Heat shot straight to his groin. “You mean besides talking to you? Well, I saw you sitting all alone and I thought you might like some company.”
He studied her for a long moment. A warning pushed through the sensual haze, almost as if his agent was sitting on his shoulder, halo, and harp and freaking wings, whispering, “You don’t have a choice. You need this contract. Don’t be stupid.”
He shoved the image away, blocking out the words, needing to do something bad for him before being forced to do something good for everyone. But the caution remained, the memory of past lovers and their media interviews.
What was her angle? She didn’t seem drunk. She didn’t seem to recognize him either. Maybe this situation was exactly as it appeared—a woman, interested in a man, with a slightly psychotic bodyguard. He glanced at Sophie. She hadn’t said much, just sat there, arms folded across her chest, waiting. He decided to play along, the devil considerably lower in his anatomy pushing his advantage. “I always like pretty women for company. What did you have in mind?”
Stacia took a deep breath, an answering heat flaring in her eyes. “Dinner, then we’ll see how things go.”
At that moment, a cell phone rang on his left. Sophie dug through her bag, pulled it out and looked at the screen. “Damn. I have to go.” She glanced between the two of them, suspicion clearly warring with the need to leave, hesitation written in every tense line of her body. She tugged her lower lip and narrowed her eyes. Stacia twisted to see the television set, some politician on the screen. Her eyes clouded for a brief moment, almost too quick to catch, but Sophie also leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed and he knew he hadn’t missed it.
A strong hand gripped his thigh, just above his knee, on his left. He winced as Sophie’s fingers dug into the muscle through the denim. He turned and a flash almost blinded him. “What the hell, lady? What iswrongwith you?” He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dots behind his eyes.
Sophie put her mouth next to his ear, speaking low enough for only him to hear. Her Southern accent, that may have sounded sweet to some men, blasted heat at him, and definitely not the sexual kind. “You hurt her, you bastard, and you deal with me.”
He arched his eyebrow at Stacia, then back to Sophie. “She looks old enough to make her own decisions.”
“Not the point, buddy. She’s doesn’t need anyone like you taking advantage of her.”
Stacia swiveled back from the television and frowned. She slipped her hand below the table, then caressed his thigh dangerously close to his crotch. He grinned and put his arm around her. “I think she can handle herself.”
Feeling waves of animosity wafting from Sophie, he saluted with his glass and downed the remainder of the scotch. After so much effort to discourage him, he suddenly wanted to know more about Stacia.
Sophie scowled at him, glanced at her watch and said, “I have to go. Dinner with the parents. You okay?”
Stacia leaned into Jason, laying her head on his shoulder with a big smile. “Just about.”