“Can you not see that I’m with someone?” I interrupt her. She flinches like I’ve slapped her across the face.
“That fat girl? You’re with her?”
“Do us both a favor, and get the fuck out of here.” I wave my hand through the air, knowing that if the general public finds out I said this to a fangirl, my publicist will have a shit fit. “Please.”
“You’re not that hot anyway.” She storms off, wiggling her hips as she struts away. A wave of relief washes over me. Seconds later, Billie reappears.
“Where’s your girlfriend?” She nudges my shoulder.
“She wasn’t into my suggestion of a threesome.” I tease.
Billie looks around the bar. “Oh, who were you going to ask to join. Wait…don’t tell me. The old man who keeps falling off of his stool at the end of the bar?”
“No.”
“Okay, the guy in the trench coat with the Robert Smith hairdo?”
“That’s a man?”
“I don’t know.”
“No.”
“Well, then it must be—” Billie’s eyes explore the bar once more. Before I can stop myself, I’ve taken her chin between my fingers. Gently, I pull her face toward mine.
“I’m looking right at her.”
Billie’s big, green eyes appear black against the bar’s red lighting. She blinks a few times, then without an ounce of irony says, “you wantmeto have a threesome with you guys?” I let her chin go, resisting the urge to run my hands through her thick, fiery hair.
“I want nothing to do with that woman.” I take a sip of my drink.
“But she’s so hot.”
“She’s nothing compared to you.”
A groan escapes Billie’s lips. “Why are you saying that to me, Archer?”
“Why can’t you believe it? I can’t take it anymore, Billie. I haven’t felt this free in years, and it’s because of you. You’re so…normal, and wonderful. And I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life. Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Then I’ll prove it to you.” I reach behind her neck and pull her toward me, pressing my lips against hers. I stiffen instantly. I’m not as gentle this time, she needs to know how bad I want her. Now that I’ve claimed her lips, no one else will ever touch them again. She’s mine and was always meant to be. I taste the inside of her mouth, sweet with whiskey. My head swirls as she meets my aggressive kisses with ferocity. Her hands find my chest, fingers digging into my pecs.
“I want you so bad, Billie.” I groan into her mouth, one hand wiggling its way up her shirt. I palm one of her full breasts over her lacy bra, and nearly come on the spot. It feels as good and soft as I knew it would. “I want to taste every inch of you. But only if you want it, too.”
“Of course I want it, Archer. But…”
“But what?” I say between kisses, hard as a rock at the thrill of a public make out session. “We shouldn’t.”
“Why?” My ache to be inside of her intensifies.
She presses her palms against my chest, pulling away enough to look me dead in my eyes. “Because we work together. It could really screw things up.”
“It won’t,” I say, leaning in again toward her delicious lips.
“Look,” she says. “I want you, too. More than you’ll ever know. But, I don’t want to fuck this opportunity up.” She breathes in ragged spurts. “I need this show.”
The weight of her words hit me. Maybe I’ve mistaken her interest in me for an interest in her own career. And I can’t fault her for that. It’s a tough business. “Okay.” I run a hand through my hair and reluctantly pull myself away from her.