Page 24 of Just This Once

Charles Attwater was a terrible dancer.

I was fairly certain he would be a terrible kisser too. When I had accepted his invitation to dance, I had no idea the smooth-talking sommelier would be so utterly hopeless on the dance floor. There would be a zero percent chance I would be confirming my suspicions regarding his ability to kiss.

My poor toes were rioting in protest, desperate for a break.

“I’ll be back.” I held up my hands and smiled politely.

“Are you sure? This is a good one.” Charles bit into his lower lip and shimmied his shoulders in what could only be described as bad, White-man dancing.

I held up my fingers. “Two minutes.”

I swiveled on my heels, needing a moment alone. My shoulders sagged, and a deep exhale soothed my bunched muscles as I turned from him, escaping toward the darkened hallway that led to the ladies’ room.

Despite the run-down honky-tonk vibe of the Grudge, the women’s bathroom was spacious and bright. The gods of the ladies’ room must have been smiling down on me, because it was also blissfully empty.

If my date wasn’t so sad, it would have almost been hilarious. My mother and I had stopped into Charles’s wine shop after she’d eagerly encouraged Charles and I to “go out and have a little fun.” I had tried to laugh it off, but Charles agreed and called to set up a date the very next day. Knowing I needed to excise a certain rugged and infuriating firefighter from my brain, I had reluctantly agreed.

Charles’s initial enthusiasm had been flattering, but I had quickly learned he was about as exciting as a cold, wet blanket.

I’ve really got to stop letting her set me up on dates.

The heavy bathroom door swung open, and my eyes flicked to the entry to offer a flat, polite greeting. My eyes widened when Whip sauntered in looking like hot sex on a stick. His chest strained the cotton of his shirt. His jeans molded to his thighs, and my eyes paused, only a fraction of a second, on his front, where I knew all too well that a thick, pierced, glorious cock was residing.

I straightened, my lips parted in shock as he made no move to leave the restroom.

Heat and desire rippled through me without warning as Whip’s cocky grin hooked the corner of his mouth.

The silence was fraught with tension. I gave Whip my coolest expression, hoping like hell he couldn’t sense the nerves jittering out of me. “You lost?”

Whip leaned against the bathroom door, blocking anyone from entering and breaking our cocoon. “I came to find out why.”

My brows furrowed. “Why what?”

Whip shook his head and threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Why that guy?”

His jeans hugged his trim hips, and his thighs filled them out in a way that sent warmth buzzing through me. His arms were covered in intricate tattoos that disappeared into his too-tight shirtsleeves. Our late-night romp hadn’t offered me the opportunity to really study them, but in the bright lighting of the bathroom, I could see how simple, yet detailed, they were.

My eyes flitted to his, and he stood, patiently waiting for me to answer his question.

I blinked, swallowing down the tension that had stolen my voice. “He called and asked me out on a proper date.”

Whip scoffed but made no effort to move. “I would have called if you hadn’t bolted.”

I rinsed my hands for no other reason than to give myself something to do and reached for a paper towel, which was a mistake because I caught the irresistible, masculine scent of Whip’s cologne. “You work for my dad.”

Whip kicked off the door to tower behind me. I went still and caught his gaze in the mirror. His nose brushed against my hair, and he inhaled. “Do you always do what Daddy tells you to?”

Sizzling currents rolled down my back. “You’re being ridiculous. This is the ladies’ room. Someone could walk in.”

Whip chuckled behind me, his rumbling laugh vibrating my back. “We’re just talking. Is that against the rules?”

I resisted the urge to arch backward and rub against him like a cat in heat. “You’reflirting.”

Whip King was cocky and stubborn and knew exactly how to push my buttons. It annoyed me that I was beyond intrigued. The air between us grew thick and heavy. The thumping bass continued just beyond the door to the bathroom. At any moment someone could barge in and catch me melting over a man I had no right to be craving.

In the mirror, I could see Whip thinking, weighing his options as carefully as I was. He stared for a beat, and I could see the humor in his eyes melt away and be replaced with something darker.

Possession.

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