Sven
Amartini glass with pale pink liquid landed on the bar in front of me before I’d even planted my ass on the stool. I looked up into the smiling eyes of my favorite bartender and knew a trip to the Thirsty Cowboy had been the right decision. The music was loud, the hunks were aplenty, and the only thing flowing faster than the pheromones was the alcohol. Just the distraction I needed.
“This must be a record, Joe.” I saluted him with the Royal Cosmopolitan before taking a sip. Champagne turned an ordinary Cosmo into something extraordinary. Bubbles danced on my tongue and put a shimmy in my shoulders. “Thank you, my prince.”
Joe chuckled and shook his head. “I can’t take full credit. Your drink is compliments of the gentleman. He told me to make your favorite cocktail before you’d even made it to the bar.”
He gestured to a dark-haired guy across from me. With his head down and overlong bangs shielding his face, I couldn’t read his expression. How curious that he hadn’t waited for my reaction when Joe presented his gift. Was it buyer’s remorse or low self-esteem? Hunched shoulders suggested he carried a hefty burden on them. Maybe his battered bomber jacket was as heavy as it appeared, but the stranger gave off Atlas vibes to me. A familiar twang vibrated in my chest as if invisible fingers strummed my heartstrings.
Oh no. Not again.Yet I found myself asking. “Who is he, and what’s his deal?”
Joe shrugged. “Cross the bar and find out.” And with that, the cute bartender winked and moved on.
There was no way in hell I was going to do that. I’d wait for the guy to look up, and I’d mouth a thank-you from a safe distance. Until then, I planned to scan the bar for a man who could distract me from my troubles, not contribute to them. A cursory glance yielded a few prospects, but the broody guy kept drawing my attention like an annoying magnet. The latest peek revealed the stranger had raised his head a little higher. I was closer to thanking him and moving on with my night. But then he notched his chin up more. I went from “hell no” to “hello” in a heartbeat. Hot damn, the man was disheveled in the sexiest way. Dark scruff covered a square jaw that made a comic superhero’s chin look weak. His mouth looked full and soft, even in its down-turned state. Damn, I loved kissable lips and wanted to turn the frown upside down.
I must’ve stared too long because hot and broody lifted his gaze to meet mine.Oh. My. God.Light eyes and dark hair were my favorite combo, and the maelstrom of emotion hovering nearhim like Pigpen’s dirt cloud only added to his magnetism. The guy was definitely wrestling with personal demons, and judging by the look of it, he was losing the battle. For a fleeting second, I wanted to cross the room, take up a sword, and help him fight. Okay, I wanted to kiss him better. But I kept my ass firmly on the stool. No matter what ailed Broody, I wasn’t the salvation he needed.
“Are you from around here?”
The question came from the guy sitting on my right. When I’d arrived, every stool had been taken, and a hunky cowboy had surrendered his seat to me. I’d thanked him with my trademark charm and received a malicious glare from his boyfriend, who sat on the stool beside mine. I’d yet to meet a man worth fighting over and had quickly diffused the situation with a compliment. And now, his cowboy boyfriend was nowhere in sight, and my neighbor wanted to be friendly. I turned my head and met his cool blue eyes once more. This time, they were curious as they raked over my body. This was not my first rodeo, so I had a pretty good feeling of where the conversation was going, though the guy would benefit from better small talk to warm up a prospective third. I’d enjoyed threesomes when I was younger, but Blue Eyes wasn’t built for it. He’d wanted to take me down earlier just for smiling at his man. What did he think would happen if I wrapped my lips around said boyfriend’s cock? I liked my face arranged the way it was.
“No, thanks.” I grabbed my drink and slid off the stool.
My gaze collided with Mr. Broody’s across the bar again. He sat up straighter and attempted a smile that looked more like a grimace.Bless his heart.Would it kill me to thank him in person for my drink? I’d give him two minutes tops before moving on. Broody leaned toward his neighbor and said something that made him slide off his stool and walk away. Someone else moved to sit there, but Broody smacked his hand down before their asscould land. It looked like they might argue, so I hastened my pace before things got out of hand. Broody’s gaze tracked my every step, but he didn’t relinquish his hold.
“Excuse me,” I said to the man who was trying to wrestle the stool away from Broody. “I believe that’s my seat.”
“Bullshit.” The tawny-haired man spun around with a sneer on his face. He was prepared to argue with me until I dazzled him with my best smile. He grinned over at Broody and slapped him on the shoulder. “My bad, buddy.”
I set my precious Cosmo on the bar and climbed onto the stool. An intoxicating smell of leather and bourbon tickled my nose. Was it Broody’s cologne or a combination of his bomber jacket and the amber liquid in his glass? “I thought there was going to be a fight there for a second.”
Broody raked his pale green gaze over the outfit I’d chosen with care. The cropped baby blue cashmere sweater was incredibly soft and showed off a tantalizing amount of midriff. Jeans with strategically frayed holes hugged my ass like a second skin and left nothing to the imagination. “Bet you’re used to that,” Broody replied when his eyes met mine again. His voice, thick and rich, held a hint of accusation that got under my skin.
I straightened my spine and searched for a proper scathing rebuttal, but my anger stalled out before I could land on one. Damn, he was gorgeous. The dark stubble was thicker than I first thought and looked rough enough to grate my nerves into confetti or leave delicious marks on my inner thighs. Full lips curved into a wry grin. So much better than his first attempt to smile. I had a pressing desire to lean forward and test their softness. Eyes the color of matcha locked in on my bare midriff, and I had to fight the urge to preen.
No, no, no. I’m irritated with him.“You think I like men fighting over me?” My frosty tone had those gorgeous eyes snapping up to meet mine.
A thick, dark brow arched upward until it disappeared beneath a swoop of unruly bangs. I longed to get this man into my salon chair for some serious grooming. “Don’t you?” Broody asked.
“Noooo,” I said. “That bullshit is for insecure drama queens, not confident kings. I’m here for a drink and a hard fuck.” I lifted my martini glass from the bar and took a sip before setting it back down. “You’ve taken care of the first part, thank you very much, and now I’m curious to hear what you think about the second.”
“Wow.”
“Wow?” I repeated. “I can’t tell if you’re impressed or baffled.”
Broody shrugged his broad shoulders, which pulled my attention to the rest of his body. It was hard to see what he had going on beneath that bomber jacket, but his thick thighs were perfection, and the bulge between them was definitely promising. I didn’t need the guy to like me as long as he made me come. “You have definitely made an impression on me.” A wolfish expression replaced the downtrodden visage I’d first noticed.
“Likewise,” I replied coolly.
Broody chuckled and shook his head. “You’re sitting here because you didn’t find someone better when you scanned the bar for a better candidate than the mope who bought you a drink.”
I could only blink for a few seconds. Was this guy for real, or was his wounded-soul vibe a ploy? And where had he learned his covert observation skills? The CIA? Broody must’ve taken my silence as a confirmation of his claim. His lips flattened into a grim line, and the expression in his gaze dulled once more.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m not too proud to accept a pity fuck right now.” So his demeanor hadn’t been a ploy. This guywas damaged goods, my personal Kryptonite. Broody broke eye contact and took a sip of his beer. “Forget it. This was a dumb idea.”
I scooted my stool closer and tucked my legs between his thighs. The heat rolling off his body made me want to press against him and purr like a kitten. I drew a heart just above his knee instead. “It doesn’t have to be.”
Broody set his beer down and gripped my hips with powerful hands. The pressure and heat of his fingers quickened my pulse until sympathy was the last thing on my mind. The music switched from something fast and pulsing to something slow and sexy. “Do you like dancing?”