Page 10 of Once Upon A Sale

“I can’t, you’ve had a lot to drink and I won’t take advantage of that any more than I already have. I also think your friends are ready to leave.” His brow is scrunched, as though he’s in pain as he nods over to our booth where Tabby is sitting, her head resting against her arms on the table like she’s having anap. Which she probably is. Opie is standing beside her, bobbing from side to side in time with the music, her phone in hand, probably playing one of her many games.

The men they were dancing with have long gone, which is probably a good thing considering the state we’re all actually in.

“Ah, shit. Yeah. We should get her home.” I can’t help the disappointment in my tone. But I’m a great believer in the idea that everything happens for a reason, and I know me and Mr. Sexy Tattoo man were just never meant to be. Fucking universe. Probably a good thing because that nickname is shit and there’s something about him that’s dangerous. Not just in the way he makes me feel, either.

“Shall I call you a cab?” He still hasn’t moved his hands, holding me in place in front of him. It’s gentle though, for a man his size.

“No, we’re good. Thank you though.” I move to slip away, but his hold on me tightens. Scrunching up my eyebrows in question, I tilt my head to look up at him.

It’s like he wants to say something with the way his gaze bores into mine, but whatever it is doesn’t come out. He just closes his eyes briefly and shakes his head before loosening his hold.

We were dancing right by my table, so I don’t have far to go, which means he’s right behind me as I reach into my bag for my phone. I can feel his breath on my neck, and his body against mine is all firm bumps in all the right places. The way he sets my nerve endings alight is addictive, which is probably another good reason this is over before it begins. It’s like he has a power over my body that I didn’t know a person could wield, but I don’t get the impression that he wants to hurt me. More like he wants to put me in his pocket and carry me around forever.

If only.

“Tabby, babe, wake up, the cab is on the way. It’ll be outside in four minutes.” Opie gently shakes her awake and she looks up at us through sleepy eyes.

“Fifi, there’s a man attached to your back, but I wouldn’t complain, he’s hot as fuck.” Tabby manages a whole sentence, but I wish she hadn’t. Opie chuckles, wagging her brows suggestively.

He lets a low laugh escape his lips by my ear and I have the sudden need to rub my thighs together to create some friction. It occurs to me now that I may actually get to see this guy again, the fact that he isn’t trying to immediately get into my pants is promising. But do I want that? Don’t I have enough going on?

“I’m sorry if this sounds dumb, but what’s your name?” I ask as I twist my neck to look at him, and that smile of his has magic powers, I swear. His eyes crinkle in the sexiest way I’ve ever seen eyes crinkle.

“You can call me Rhett. Now you need to give me your number. I gave you my name, so it’s only fair.” That barely-there dimple makes another appearance beneath the stubble and I want to dip my finger inside to see how deep it goes…

“A bit forward, aren’t you? I could just give you my name, then we’re even.”

“I’d rather have your number.” He winks, and if it were any other man in the world, I swear it’d be corny as hell, but he pulls it off in a way I never thought possible.

“Fine.” I reel off my number and he types it into his cell. He doesn’t check to see if I’ve given him the right one by calling me, instead he’s trusting that I’m being honest.

That’s kinda sexy.

I turn to face him, slowly, before overthinking it and planting a rushed kiss on his cheek. Only, as I’m aiming for his cheek, he twists his head so I get his smirking lips. Those oh-so-soft lips,and the stubble…well, there’s no doubt I’ve got a bit of stubble rash.

I pull away and fan myself with a large coaster from the bar. Rhett just looks amused at my antics and helps Opie and I take Tabby out to the cab. We don’t say anything else, but there’s a strangely comfortable silence.

Rhett helps me into the cab once the girls are inside before he leans down to give me one last kiss. It’s so soft, but he lingers for just a moment and I relish in the scent of him. Even through the alcohol I can smell leather and musk. Pulling away, he shuts the door wordlessly and stays standing there as our driver pulls away, just watching. I can’t help but swoon a little at his hulking frame getting smaller as the distance between us grows, and I rub my lips at the lingering memory of his kiss.

Tabby is out for the count again, her head falling sideways onto my shoulder as she lets out a tiny snore. Chuckling, Opie and I share the kind of look friends share when they know they’re going to have a laugh recalling the night’s events the next day.

I definitely acted out of character this evening, because there’s no way I’d normally kiss a stranger like that. There was just something about him, like this odd pull. I’m positive that once I’m not under the influence of alcohol, I’ll forget all about him and his soft lips, his firm, tattooed arms…

Although, I guess he’s not technically a stranger anymore.

This was definitely not part of the plan.

Chapter Five

Ophelia

Logan:I’m on my way, open the gate.

With my phone sitting just right of my computer, I don’t need to unlock it to see Logan’s text. Usually, I’m all for our last minute visits since it means I get an orgasm out of it but right now, I’m in the middle of shit and it’s just inconvenient.

Then again, orgasms release endorphins and those fuckers make me very efficient in my work. There’s no reason to respond to his message, I just need to activate the gate from the security app on my phone. By the time I pull it up, I can see the front of his car inching up the private estate road as the gate slowly swings open for him to pass through.

A quick check in the mirror tells me I look just fine. After all, Logan has seen me in various states, some of which I wish he’d erase from his memory. No girl wants her fuck buddy to see her throwing up tequila, or anything else for that matter. In true gentleman fashion, Logan held my hair and refrained from laughing about it (too much) the next day.

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