Page 4 of Bartender's Surprise Baby

The road ahead was dark. There were no lights. I sat up tall and looked around, finding this part of Holiday Grove unfamiliar to me. “Where exactly do you live, Levi?”

He chuckled and slid a glance my way. “It’s a little too late to be asking that isn’t it?”

“It’s never too late. Besides I texted Kayla to tell her I was having a drink with you, so if something happens to me, you are suspectnumero uno.”

God, his laugh was filled with life, like despite his rough start he still found joy in life easily. “You’re a little twisted, aren’t you?”

I shrugged. “Spent my late teens and twenties in New York, you have to worry about things like that. Or else.”

He was quiet for a long minute and then pointed up ahead. “My place. Marcus’ house is about six and a half miles from the bar and all the land in between belonged to him. It came with the bar.”

I held up my pinky finger and pitched my voice in a low, and terrible English accent. “You are old money, aren’t you darling.”

He laughed again and the sound hit me in all the right places. “I’m the newest money you’ll find,” he joked.

“This place is great,” I told him when the car came to a stop in front of a home that looked like a cabin. I was pleasantly surprised to find that on the inside it was a perfectly modern home, fit for a bachelor. “Very minimalist. Clean lines and bold colors.”

“It’s home.” His voice was suddenly deeper and grittier.

I spun and found him right there, inches from my face. “Hello, there.”

“Hey.”

I licked my lips, the desire to taste his was so strong. There was something just plain wicked about a man with plump lips. “So, those tattoos?”

Amusement flashed in his eyes before he took a step back and slowly, too damn slowly, unbuttoned his flannel. Underneath was a black tank top and he got rid of that too.

“Here they are.”

His body was magnificent, a true work of art. He had tattoos everywhere, not just his forearms but his biceps, his pecs and a quote. “Damn, Levi. You don’t do anything in half measures do you?”

“I try not to.”

I smiled and started with the quote on his right side. The words started at his ribcage and down to his waist before they wrapped around his back and up the other side. I traced the loopy words with my fingers. There was a black and white orchid on his right bicep and it was so lifelike I gasped.

“These are fantastic.”

“Rob.” That was all he said, my name, but that one syllable held a wealth of meaning.

I stood in front of him and let my fingertips brush his abs and down to that mind-numbing vee at his waistband. “You’re…really hot.”

A deep chuckle sounded. “Thanks.”

“No,” I laughed. “Thank you.”

Heat darkened his green eyes and then he growled and his mouth was on mine. The kiss was instantly combustible, fiery and hot and all-consuming. His hands felt bigger on my body, spanning across my back and then my stomach. He made me feel petite, which was a feat for a woman nearly six feet tall.

“Levi,” I moaned when his lips left mine and explored my neck and jaw before he kissed his way down my chest, stopping between my breasts.

“Fuck, you smell so good. What is that?”

“Lavender perfume. France.” It was all I managed to get out before he had my blouse and my bra on the floor and his delicious mouth covered my nipple. The way he gripped me with his big hands was sexy as hell, and I never once felt inadequate for having small breasts.

He growled as he moved from one breast to the other, flicking his tongue over my nipples until I arched into his touch. “Rob,” he whispered and sucked my nipple even harder.

“Levi, please.”

He pulled back and walked me backwards until I fell onto his plush sofa. “You sure you want this?”

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