Page 2 of This or That
I shake my head to get back to reality and round the bar with the heavy bucket in hand. Making sure she’s securely holding the tray and none of the ten glasses risk falling, Anna and I sidestep tables and patrons on our way to the back of the club where the secluded room is situated, separated from the main room by a one-way mirror. In order to provide more privacy, these guests have a personal dance floor.
I hold the VIP room door so that she can deposit the tray on the table without difficulty. The second she straightens her posture and looks my way, Channing mumbles something incoherent, attesting to his drunken state. That makes me question why they ordered three more bottles. Clearly, they’ve already had more than enough.
Damn, he irritates me!
I plaster a fake smile on my face in return, and my eyes don’t leave his as I make quick work of the cork and start pouring the champagne. The liquid effervesces and that’s the moment that Channing chooses to, yet again, grope my coworker’s plump ass.
What the hell?
My cheeks heat, and I’m thankful that the dim light hides my glare. My blood boils as I debate whether to act on my earlier fantasy.
“Nah, that wouldn’t be smart,” I scold myself between gritted teeth. I refuse to allow this to go unpunished and resolve to show Channing the error of his ways. For now, I have one word left.
War.
Chapter 2
When Bad Does Good
Mike
“You like it, don’t you?” I don’t recognize my own voice as my question comes out brasher than anticipated.
I’m not sure why the pretty barmaid would come back for round two if she weren’t remotely interested. Right?
“Sir, I suggest you remove your hand from my derrière.”
Seated—or rather slouched—on the comfortable couch, I register that my hand is glued to her sumptuous ass that’s showcased by a fitted black dress. Since the young woman is to the right of the couch, the oversized square coffee table doesn’t get in the way.
“Or what?”
My daring tone echoes through the room, and my friends offer a mix of disapproving groans and cheers. Surprisingly enough, the women are the ones encouraging me.
The devil inside my head joins the party.Of course, she wants more.The next thing I know, my hand snatches her wrist and yanks her my way, propelling her perky derrière to my lap.
She readjusts her position to keep from falling to the side, and I take that as an invitation. My free hand draws her closer and, without asking for permission, my lips crash against hers in a sloppy kiss. Instead of relaxing into the kiss, my body stiffens, and not because I sport a semi. Nope. Her refusal to open up for me does it. My tongue doesn’t have time to coax her into cooperating.
In the blink of an eye, the girl is plucked from my hold by her cowboy knight in all-black, not-so-shining armor. Before I’m able to react, she rushes to the guy’s side and lets out a sigh of relief that even I can hear. Loud and clear.
Apparently, she couldn’t be happier to hide behind her human shield. “Get off me, you perv!” she shrieks now that she’s safe.
My friends’ voices become white noise. Me, a perv? The word sends an icy chill down my spine. I beg to differ. Whoever this girl is, she has to come to her senses and fathom that I’m anything but. I may be sloshed, but I felt her attraction to me. Loud and clear.
Flinging myself out of my seat like a Jack-in-the-box on steroids, I notice that the world around me won’t stop spinning. Somehow, I manage to make a beeline to the current object of my desire but am blocked by the bartender, who acts as a human shield. Growling, I do a piss-poor job of steadying my antsy body. My anger grows by leaps and bounds, and I inhale deeply. Loud and clear.
As I prepare to exhale, my wrist is circled by potent fingers, flooding my body with warmth… until I realize who they belong to. The bartender twists my arm behind my back while hauling me closer to him.
The fucker’s a couple of inches shorter than my 6’ 1”, but he’s undeniably strong. His overbearing eyes meet mine, and my heart jumps into my throat. At this point, the blasting music ceases. My stupid friends vanish. My female temptation disappears.
I stand inches away from the guy, and his hot breath fans across my face. Too dumbstruck to push him away, my lips part as I silently question his next move.
After counting to three, his hungry mouth slams against mine as I start to stutter, “What the—”
He swallows my words, his lips pressing harder against mine. As absurd as I find his cowboy hat, since we’re in Paris, I’m relieved that, paired with the darkness, it surely conceals our lips from prying eyes, considering where we’re standing.
My weekend stubble scrapes his clean-shaven face, but he doesn’t budge. The foreign sensation sends yet another shiver. By the time I realize that I have a free hand that can be used to push him away, it’s too late. He buries his fingers in my short light brown hair, positioning my head to get a better angle. Meanwhile, my caged wrist travels from the small of my back to my butt. Then, the stranger’s firm hand tightens and clamps on my ass as if we were alone. Together. Naked. Such an intimate gesture. Such an unexpected gesture. Such a revolting gesture. My sloshed mind can’t make sense of what’s happening. Talk about a twist of fate!
Against my better judgment, I let his skillful tongue slide into my mouth. Again, the difference of his kiss strikes me. His is demanding. His is unapologetic. His is unprecedented. My heart thumps so hard that I wonder whether I’m about to have a heart attack. I’m no longer interested in my current state, mental or otherwise, and much too horny to stop the startling assault.
