Page 1 of Desire Me
Chapter One
It was her smile that caught Saint’s attention first. Small. Wary. Nervous. Every sense he had went on alert at that smile. Made him take a second look.
And holy hell, what that second look did to his libido.
She sat directly across the bar from him at Big Daddy’s, her focus on the waiter who’d just arrived bearing a platter of barbecue and fries. His mouth watered at the sight, but not because of the food. Because of the thick chocolate hair curling around her face. Brown eyes that zeroed in on her meal and darkened with greed. Full lips that went from tight and tense to genuine pleasure when she glanced back at the waiter. That pleasure made his gut go rock-hard.
Because Saint wanted her. And because the man serving her stood too close, seemed too interested. He had the sudden urge to stalk around the bar and chuck the guy across the room, then take his place, close enough to touch her. Take that fork from her hand and feed her himself.
Holy hell, indeed. What was wrong with him?
“What’s he staring at?”
“You mean who, right?” a wry voice answered. “Who’she staring at?”
A hard slap across Saint’s shoulder blades snapped his attention back to his companions. With a casualness that was a total lie, he reached for the frothy mug of local IPA in front of him before glancing toward his best friend, King. The man’s movie-star smile mocked Saint’s performance.
“What are you three going on about?” Saint asked.
It was his team lead, Dain, sitting on the other side of King, who answered. “Just remarking on your good taste.”
The bite of the alcohol in his mouth sharpened his tone after another swallow. “Good taste?”
King jerked his chin toward the opposite side of the room. “In scenery.”
“They’re not wrong,” Elliot said from her seat next to him, adding feminine input to the male-dominated conversation.
Saint graced her with a smile. “Usually I’d argue with that conclusion, but not tonight.” His gaze shifted back to the dark-haired beauty across the room. She was digging into her food with a gusto that made his cock stand at attention. The need to get closer, to discover what her voice sounded like, if her body held soft curves or lean angles, if her personality matched the one he was already building in his head based on no more than a look and a few avaricious bites of food, ramped up hard.
But he couldn’t abandon his team, no matter how interested his dick was. Or how long it had been since he’d experienced this kind of sudden interest. He dated plenty, maybe too much in some people’s opinions—his family, for one. They made no secret of their disapproval for his…what did his mom call it? “Footloose and fancy-free ways”? His sisters just called him a man whore. But keeping things casual worked for his lifestyle. Being a security specialist meant a lot of time on assignment, often living in with their clients until whatever danger had sparked their hiring passed. The job kept him busy, kept him happy, but it didn’t necessarily lend itself toward a focus on relationships.
Your teammates would beg to differ.
Of course they would. They’d peg him as being stubborn, needing to play the field. The truth was, he had no desire for a permanent relationship at the moment. Someday, definitely, when the time was right. That time wasn’t now, not for him.
Dain, Elliot, and King—all with respective significant others—worried about him “being alone,” feeling left out when they were all involved in relationships. That’s why they’d dragged him out for drinks. Not that he’d had to be dragged to spend time with them, but neither did they need to be concerned. He was content as he was, single and carefree.
Free to see anyone he wanted. And right now he wanted to see the woman he couldn’t stop staring at from across the bar.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to yourverypregnant wife instead of commenting on my choice of ‘scenery’?” he asked Dain. Their team lead’s wife was due to deliver their first child in only a few weeks. A Christmas baby.
“What does ‘very pregnant’ mean?” Elliot asked, tipping her beer toward Dain down the bar. “I mean, Olivia is either pregnant or not.”
“She’s about to pop; that’s what it means,” King said.
“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Saint advised. “Women do not want to hear words like ‘pop,’ ‘balloon,’ ‘basketball,’ or anything having to do with size when they’re…well…about to pop.” He knew that from vast experience, having four older sisters intent on single-handedly repopulating the world.
His teammates laughed. When the laughter settled, Dain leaned his forearms on the bar and shook his head. “I can’t believe he’s almost here.”
“He?” King raised a sharp blond eyebrow. “You sure about that?”
“No,” Elliot answered for him. “Olivia has him by the balls. She hasn’t even hinted to me or Sydney about the baby’s sex, and Sydney can drag intel out of anyone. She’s going into military intelligence as an interrogator when she gets older, I swear.”
Elliot’s soon-to-be stepdaughter didn’t have to interrogate—she turned on the cuteness factor, asked a question, and everyone around her simply spilled their guts. Saint had a couple of nieces who were just as effective.
Dain ignored Elliot’s input. “No, Olivia hasn’t said anything. But I just know.”
“What he means,” King said, “is that the idea of having a daughter makes him feel like the guy inAlienwith the monster tearing its way through his chest. So yeah, it has to be a boy.”
