Page 3 of Bang Buddies With Benefits
“Again, hazards of being a lawyer. With that much evidence on the line, I might as well go with the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
“While using words like ‘pray tell’ and ‘lest,’ at that. Do you have your fancy pants on all day every day, then?”
I leaned a hip against the bar and crossed one ankle over the other. “I’m not wearing pants. Don’t act like you didn’t notice.”
The tilt of his head seemed to say “fair enough.” He finished off my drink and slid it my way, eyes locked on to mine. Then he stepped closer, absorbing all the oxygen between us.
“You have…” His forehead crinkled as he lifted his hand, and I froze in place as his fingertips grazed my hair. Tingles erupted, dancing across my scalp. Pink flashed as he withdrew and studied the large piece of confetti. “A dick in your hair.”
“Only one?” I swept my curls to one side to study the strands.
“You usually juggle more?”
Switching from searching my curls for penises, I twisted one around my finger and sank my teeth into my lower lip. “Depends on how big they are.”
He gave a low whistle and shook his head. “You obviously came here tonight looking for trouble.”
“I didn’t, I swear.” The ice in my drink rattled as I lifted it and took a healthy gulp. “But I do have a knack for it, and guys like you are the best kind of trouble.”
“Guys like me, hm?” He grabbed a new bar rag and flung it over his shoulder. “I guess I’m going to need you to tell me more about myself, because I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Using a finger, he drew an invisible circle over the top of his head. “Saint Zac, that’s what they call me.”
A laugh burst out of me, and at the chiding raise of his eyebrow, I clamped my lips. “The patron saint of booze? That’s a new one for me, and mi madre insisted I learn all the saints.” His eyes dipped to my mouth as I took another sip of my drink, and the zing of a challenge sang through my veins. I hadn’t had this much fun with a member of the male persuasion in ages. “But since you asked so nicely, Saint Zac, I’m happy to tell you more about yourself…”
I tapped my finger to my lip, as though it’d help with the assessment. “You like working on a different schedule than the rest of the world, you’re into art—” I gestured to his intricate tattoos, the juxtaposition and style the reason behind my statement—“and you’re fully aware of how attractive you are. But you aren’t into relationships and pride yourself on being upfront with your conquests, since you’d feel bad about making false promises. How am I doing so far?”
“What’s the point in agreeing or disputing, as you’ve clearly made up your mind already?”
“Pleading the fifth? Really, Zac?” With a tsk of my tongue, I boosted myself up on the counter, swinging my bare legs so that they brushed the denim covering his.
“Let me guess. You’re about to tell me for the third time that you’re a lawyer.”
“Ah!” The offended noise came from my throat before I could help it. Pardon the hell out of me for daring to mention the career that’d taken a shit-ton of work and consumed the majority of my life. “Let me guess. This gig was supposed to be temporary.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw, both of us hitting upon each other’s raw nerves. I was rusty at this whole flirting thing, and he’d stung my ego. I’d automatically struck back, same way I did in court, my temper both my strength and my Achilles heel.
Zac lifted a finger, requesting a second to take care of the customer who’d approached the bar. With the light-heartedness leaking from our interaction, I should seize hold of the opening and go.
So why did I stay in place while he poured the guy a beer, acting like a desperate groupie awaiting his return?
Because youaredesperate. Starting over with another guy is going to require so much effort. And there are serious sparks flying, even if some of them are irritated, petty ones.
As Zac strode in my direction, I gritted my teeth and did my best to stifle my pride. This was about getting laid. If anything, I should be thrilled that I’d never want more from a guy that ridiculously ripped and handsome. “Look, I shouldn’t hav—”
“I’ll have you know I’m part-owner of this bar. I enjoy my job, and how it’s always the same and always different. It doesn’t make anyone else smarter than I am, and while there are most assuredly people who are, not nearly as many asthinkthey are. A wide variety of people find me attractive, and I’ve seen myself in the mirror. But considering you’ve seen your reflection as well…”
Why did he trail off like that?
“You going to provide your name?” Zac walked forward, his lower torso pressing into my knees, which accidently-on-purpose fell open, allowing him to settle deeper into the V my legs now formed. He braced his palms on either side of them, keeping enough space between us that he didn’t so much as brush the exposed skin caused by the hiking of my skirt—something a lot of guys would’ve helped themselves to, and the mixture of pushiness and gentlemanliness completely threw me off my game. He lowered his face to mine until our noses nearly touched. “Or should I assume one for you?”
I jerked back as if slapped, chided and yet really fucking turned on, and the ragged breaths that accompanied the rise and fall of his chest suggested I wasn’t the only one. “Catalina Mendes.” Since I could be an obnoxious smartass, too, I tacked on, “Attorney at law.”
“Catalina,” he repeated in a growly voice that traveled straight down my core. “So, as I was saying, I find that pretty rich coming from the person who’s spent the last few minutes batting their eyes, twirling their hair, and biting their lip, all after crashing their way intomyspace.”
My throat tightened, and desire stirred, and I’d like to blame the alcohol, but the truth was, Zac evoked a whole lot of emotions at once. At the grazing of my teeth on my bottom lip, I quickly released it, the move accidental and not helping my case at all. I hitched my chin and shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, so you might have a point.”
“Might,” he huffed, the noise an amalgamation of humor and exasperation. “Hand me your phone, Catalina Mendes.” He wiggled his fingers as if I’d just obey him, and evidently my body didn’t get theVive la Resistancememo because suddenly my cell was in his hand. “Before we do this, I should tell you—upfront—that I don’t do relationships.”
I snatched my phone away. “Oh my God, you’re such a smartass.”
