Page 37 of Tame Me

“I am. Lolita told me all about your wonderful beer.”

He stepped aside, and as I walked past him into his room, I inhaled lovely scents of soap and cologne. Frankie had put music on, and the catchy beat was exactly what I imagined he’d listen to. As the door clicked closed, I hung my bag over the back of a dining chair and turned to him.

Frankie wore a plain gray T-shirt, and a black leather strap that hung around his neck disappeared down his collar. Before the night was out, I was determined to find out what dangled on the end of that necklace. His jeans were stylish, devoid of any holes or tears, and he wore no shoes. Frankie was a man who didn’t need fancy clothing to make him a man.

“So,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “You had to work tonight. What do you do?”

“Oh, um.” Shit, I should’ve thought of that. “I’m a croupier at the casino.” This lie had worked for me before—hopefully, it would work this time.

“Sounds interesting. Well, take a seat, and I’ll get this tasting going.”

I chewed on my lip before I said something silly, like let me taste you first.

He went to the kitchen and pulled a couple of bottles from the fridge, then carried them and two glasses to the table.

“What beer do you normally drink?”

Oh, faaarrrk. Why didn’t I think this through? “Well, I’m embarrassed to say I don’t really have a favorite.”

“Then I’m about to introduce you to one.”

His eyes were incredible. I’d never seen anything like them. I could stare into his pools for hours.

With the bottles on the table, he pulled out a chair, sat at my side, and indicated to an amber-colored glass bottle. “This’s Bucking Bronco.”

Damn. That was the one I had downstairs that tasted horrible.

He removed the bottle top, poured a good quantity into a glass tumbler, and handed it to me.

Oh crap! His tasting process might reveal the real me. I needed to switch this up before he figured out who I was. While his eyes were on me, I sipped the beer, but despite all my efforts, I was unable to stop screwing up my face at the bitter taste.

My thoughts went to Hunter and the chocolate guessing game we’d played.

“How about we play a game?” I blurted.

Frankie raised his eyebrows. “What type of game?”

I put my elbows on the table and laced my fingers together, stalling for an answer. “All your beers are named after horsey things, right?”

“Correct.”

“Okay, so how about I try to guess the names of your beers? If I’m right, you take off a piece of clothing. If I’m wrong, I take something off.”

Frankie’s grin was stunning as he leaned back in his chair and ran his gaze from my eyes to my lips. “But I’m only wearing two pieces of clothing.”

Two? Hmmm, yummy. “Then it could be a very short game.”

He laughed and clapped his hands. “You, Memphis, are a very fascinating woman.”

A blaze of heat coursed through my body, and I smiled as I made a show of examining him. “So, is that a yes to the game?”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.”

“Okay, you already told me this one was Bucking Bronco. I bet you’ve named one Back in the Saddle.”

His face lit up. “No, sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry.”

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