A feisty one. I like it. Feisty women make the best lovers.
"You look young," I say, tilting my head left and right to appraise her, "but your manner is mature."
"Oh, I get it. You're worried I'm jailbait. Relax, I'm thirty-four." She lifts her glass. "Ask the bartender. He carded me."
"I'll take your word for it."
My cock won't let me wait for the bartender's confirmation or think about the ramifications of what I intend to do with this woman. To her. For as long as it takes to satiate this need for her incredible body. I've never reacted to a woman this fiercely in my entire life. It's more than her body, though, more than those breasts I long to knead and suckle or those hips I hunger to grasp and lift as I plunge inside her wet sheath. She has an indefinable air about her, one I can't understand or describe. Her pale hair shimmers in the muted lighting, like a halo around her beautiful face, and her hazel eyes spark with an inner fire whenever she smiles.
I ease between her stool and the vacant one. "Well, would you mind having me?"
Her eyes have gone soft, her pupils blown, and her breasts lift with every breath. Her voice grows breathless when she murmurs, "Have you?"
"As a neighbor," I explain, since she seems confused. Patting the empty stool, I give her the smile I reserve for seduction. "May I?"
"This is a free country. Be my guest."
I settle onto the stool, sliding in until my erse bumps the back, and lay an arm atop the copper bar. "Being the guest of a bonnie lass appeals to me."
Everything about her appeals to me. Once I've fed my lust with her pleasure, I can leave her without looking back. I'll have gotten her out of my system.
She tips her head to the side, studying me with keen interest, even as desire ignites in her eyes. "Are you Scottish?"
I rarely smile these days, except to seduce a woman into my bed, but her straightforward question coaxes another smile from me. "What gave me away?"
"Can't fool a college graduate." She leans forward to wrap her hands around her drink again. A natural blush tints her cheeks as she gives me a teasing smile. "You have a kilt and an accent. Even if I were stoned, I could've figured that one out."
My God, she is enthralling.
I slant forward a touch, my body seeming to crave her proximity. "College graduate, eh? I found an intellectual woman to bide my time with. What was your field of study?"
Stop asking stupid bloody questions. You don't need to read the woman's CV before you fuck her.
The American angel fixes me with an assessing look, then sits up straight and slaps her hands on her thighs. "Computer programming."
"Ah," I purr, captivated by her pale, golden eyes. "You expect me to be less than impressed."
"My occupation isn't the stuff of men's wet dreams, now is it?"
To my surprise, a throaty chuckle rumbles out of me. When was the last time a woman made me laugh? She's bonnie, aye, but also full of a fire I long to devour, even if it burns me to ash. "I prefer professional women. And anyway"—I bend closer to her, so close her breaths whisper over my lips—"you'll be featured in all my dreams tonight."
Her tongue slides across her lower lip, and her eyes turn glossy.
My mouth waters. I need to taste her, to ravish her with a kiss of raw, animal hunger. I need to strip her naked and consume her. I need to possess her.
She stares at my mouth, her lips parted, her tongue whisking along the bottoms of her top teeth.
Bod an Donais. All the blood in my body rushes to my groin.
"Tell me," I say, "what is a beautiful, intelligent woman doing all alone in a bar? You should have a horde of men slavering to do your bidding."
"I got into town this evening. Haven't had a chance to drum up a horde." She wiggles her lovely erse on her seat, swiveling toward me. Then she crosses her legs and drapes an arm on the bar while her other hand rests on her thigh. "Would you do my bidding?"
"Ah, lass," I say, fingering a lock of her hair. Our faces linger tantalizingly near each other, and her feminine scent drugs me. "For you, I'd go down on my knees and do whatever is necessary to make certain you feel nothing but satisfaction."
She aims her luminous eyes at me, her mouth open just far enough I could plunge my tongue between her lips.
I groan at the thought, shifting my mouth to her ear, that silky hair brushing my mouth. "I love your eyes. They sparkle like topaz dusted with emerald flecks. A man could drown in those eyes of yours, and he'd never want to come up for air."