Page 2 of Bad Call

Then the voice that was smoother than the scotch I drank was back in my ear. “It’s meant to be savored.”

I glanced over my shoulder, praying his face matched his voice.Please be hot.

He was taller than me, maybe six-two? Sandy brown hair combed back neatly to expose his squared face and jaw. Dark blue eyes shined like sapphires reflecting the club lights. A straight nose, decent lips, and smoothly shaven, chiseled cheeks.

Fuck me.Literally.

“You want to dance, or do you want to buy me another drink? I promise to savor the next one,” I winked. My lips curled coyly, and his eyes dropped to my mouth.

My dick kicked in my black pants. Flirting with men was a whole different ball game than flirting with women. I was usually the aggressor, trying to walk that fine line between appearing interested and coming across like a creepy predator. Gone was the macho, alpha male, bad boy persona I usually used to pick up women. Now, I was acting… flirty. Slutty, even. Men didn’t want me to beat around the bush and play the long game. They just wanted to lay all their cards out on the table and get on with the next inning in the game.

Cut and dry, just how I liked it.

“Let’s dance,” the stranger decided.

He led me out onto the crowded dance floor. There was no room for autonomy or personal space with so many bodies packed into the tight quarters. He bumped up against my chest and smoothly snaked his arm around my hip, pulling our lower halves closer together. The man smelled amazing;Fahrenheitmaybe? The scent affected my body chemistry, drawing me closer for another whiff.

I rocked my hips into his, and he held me there as he ground back, pressing his length against mine. God, I loved this. Loved the raw, masculine scent, and powerful energy colliding like a brewing storm, his tight, hard body with the same parts as mine, so different from what I was used to, yet so familiar. My hand grasped his shoulder as our hips moved in sync before dropping to his chest. His pecs were hard and tight, like mine. My thumb brushed his nipple, and I felt it pebble beneath his T-shirt. His eyes burned with heat, darkening until they were almost black.

With the music so loud, it was impossible to talk while dancing. We must have been standing near a speaker. I could feel the vibration pulse through my body like a tuning fork, commanding my hips to move of their own accord. He snaked his other hand around my neck, drawing me closer until our lips were just inches apart. I was too close to even see his eyes. He rested his forehead against mine, then bumped his nose into mine, and I knew what came next.

Nervous anticipation and excitement swirled in my gut, making my mouth water. He touched his warm lipsto mine, a soft caress, and I pressed harder, coaxing him to open for me. My tongue slipped between his lips with ease, and I stole a taste of him, sliding my tongue over his like two snakes twisted together. He palmed the back of my head, threading his fingers through my short hair as he pulled me closer. He had effectively trapped me in his strong arms, a prisoner of his kiss.

I was in heaven.

We danced to three songs, moving together in a perfect rhythm, working up a sweat.

“Let’s grab that drink,” he suggested loudly in my ear, making a shudder rip through me.

I followed him to the bar, where he ordered a whiskey sour. I nodded, signaling I was good with that. “Two, please,” he called out. Holding out his credit card. We snagged a high-top table just as another couple vacated it. “I like the way you move your body,” he smirked playfully.

“Thanks, I dance a lot.”God, I sound stupid.“You know, at the clubs.”Great, now I sound like a clubber or a barfly.I suck at this!I definitely wasn’t used to the roles being reversed.

I’ve never had to worry about sounding interesting, just… not psychotic.

In a bar, a pretty face like mine and a credit card excused a whole host of character flaws. Tonight, he was buying the drinks, and I was in the unfamiliar and extremely disconcerting position of having to bealluring.

He tossed back his drink. “You work out?”

Finally, a topic I could expound on. “Almost daily. You?”

“What do you say we get out of here and go work out together?”

Okaaay, not where I saw this going, but… “Sure. Is your gym open late?” I’d yet to find a new one here since moving to town and used the small one in my apartment building.

His brows shot up to his neatly combed hairline. “Excuse me?”

Oh! Fuck. He wanted to ‘work out.’Together. Interesting turn of phrase. “Just kidding. Where did you have in mind?”

His expression relaxed, and he smiled wolfishly. “There’s aMotel Sixacross the street.”

“Sounds great. Let’s go check out their gym,” I teased with a curl of my lips.

This guy is going to be my first, and I don’t even know his name. This is fucking nuts!

I followed him through the throng of writhing half-dressed bodies and when we spilled out onto the sidewalk in front of the club, I volunteered, “I’m Buck.” Sort of. It was short for Buchanan.

“Colin,” he introduced. “I’ll meet you in the lobby. My treat.” He added an eye-fuck to his offer to really sell it, but he needn’t have bothered because I was already sold.

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