Page 7 of Rhett Redeemed

And on that thought... “Could I please have two wet pussy shots and two more of these martinis?” I ask the bartender, pulling my chestnut-colored hair in a bun to keep it out of my face.

“Damn, girl,” Jamie mutters, knowing how drunk we are about to be at the end of this night.

I open my handbag and search for my debit card when a muscled arm drops some cash on the bar in front of me. I glance up from his fingers to his forearm, the veins in his arm catching my eye. I don’t know why, but I’ve always found those attractive in men, and my gaze keeps going upward until my eyes are locked with blue ones.

“I got it.” Shoulder-length blond hair, worn down and around his chin, stubble on his jaw and a confidence I find dangerous.

The blond biker from the restaurant last night. The sexy one who gave me his number, the number that I threw out right after.

“I can pay for my own drinks,” I mutter, pursing my red-tinted lips.

The weird thing is, I actually had a dream about this man last night. An explicit one. I woke up horny as hell, and now he’s standing in front of me in all of his tall, leather-clad glory.

“I remember you!” Jamie says and, unlike me, smiles warmly. She nudges me. “Say hello. And thank you for the drinks.”

“No problem,” he replies, amused.

Our drinks arrive, and I realize he paid for ours but didn’t get himself anything, so I awkwardly offer him my shot. “Wet pussy?”

“I’d love one.” He smirks, taking the shot from me and downing it. “That’s...sweet.”

“Yes, it is.”

Jamie glances between him and me, and then does her own shot. “I’m going to go and have a dance. I’ll be where I can see you.”

She leaves with a wave of her fingers and makes friends on the dance floor with a bunch of women who easily accept her. If I walked over, I don’t think I’d get the same reception. Jamie is just a likable person with a good energy about her. But me? I have my walls up, and people can usually sense that and leave me alone. Most take it as me being a bitch, but I think I do it to protect myself from rejection. Where is Dr. Phil? I’m standing in front of a gorgeous guy and here I am still having my pity party.

“You never texted me,” he points out.

“I did not.” I snap out of my funk. Head in the game, Con. “That unusual for you?”

I study his beautiful blue eyes. When I look at him I see a kindred soul. I recognize the loneliness in his eyes—it’s the same loneliness I see in my own reflection.

He runs his hand over his blond hair as his lip twitches. “I just felt an attraction between us. Maybe it was one-sided.” He turns to face the dance floor with his elbows leaning against the bar.

It definitely wasn’t. Even now, being so close to him, my nipples are hard as ice. I find myself gravitating closer to him until our arms graze and it feels like an injection into my blood stream. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. Either way, the sexual chemistry is there all right.

“Not every attraction needs to be acted upon,” I say, looking at him from the side.

He turns to me, which is startling at first. His blue gaze scans mine. “True. But there’s something about you. Do you want to dance?”

A dance couldn’t hurt, right?

I shrug, and he walks backward to the dance floor, offering me his hand. I take it and a zap of electricity goes up my arm. It’s as if I feel a jolt for the first time in a long while.

And I have an epiphany.

In this moment, I’m free.

I feel something.

And it’s been so long since I have felt anything, I’m only realizing that right now. I’ve just been breathing, but not living.

I let him guide me, stopping next to Jamie and her new squad and starting to move to the beat. I’m a little stiff at the start, but when I relax, I get into the music and enjoy myself. I even find myself smiling with him, the two of us close, but not so close that we are touching. He keeps a safe distance, and I respect that.

I make the first move by closing the space between us and pressing my body up against his. His eyes widen ever so slightly, and he’s probably wondering why I’ve decided to be so bold, especially since I turned him down yesterday.

I’m wondering the same thing. But I’m sure I’m just another notch on his belt, so why not allow myself to have a little pleasure? Live a little.

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