Page 16 of If You Could Only Feel
Fuck Gabriel Buchanan.
Fuck him and everything he makes me feel.
I knew it was the alcohol making me feel brave. And I knew, come morning, I’d be hungover like a motherfucker, regretting my bravery. But, right now, I didn’t care.
Right now, I wanted someone who would at least pretend to care about me, even if it was for one night. I wanted to know what it felt like to have someone care about me and not just want me for sex.
I knew the odds of finding a guy like that in the Las Vegas scene were slim, but maybe if I could just find a nice guy who seduced instead of attacked, I could pretend.
I gave myself one more once over and headed back out to the bar. Even though the bartender said she’d save my seat, I couldn’t really expect it of her. She had a job to do, and it wasn’t to babysit a barstool.
When I went back out, I was pleasantly surprised to find my drink and spot still open. I caught the bartender’s eye and smiled my thanks. She smiled back, but when I went to reach for my margarita, she reached over and snatched it from my hand, replacing it with a fresh one.
I looked up at her and she said, “Never leave your drink unattended, sweetie. Las Vegas might be exciting, but it’s also dangerous as hell.” She winked at me and went to serve her other customers.
I sat and stared in awe at my fresh drink. It wasn’t often that I was on the receiving end of someone being so nice. A complete stranger made an effort to make sure I was safe and having a good time. It gave me hope for my mission.
I could find a nice guy who would treat me well. They were out there. They existed. Maybe not in Las Vegas nightclubs or the bars back home, but they did exist. Maybe I needed to start getting out more and participate in community events or something.
I shook my head; enough depressing thoughts. I wasn’t here for a pity party. I’ve had enough of those to last a lifetime.
Katy Perry’s Dark Horse started blaring from the speakers as it hyped up the people brave enough to be dancing. I wasn’t quite that drunk yet, so I sat-danced in my seat. I loved this song. It was catchy, sexy and exciting.
It wasn’t until the song was halfway over that I felt the prickle of electricity tingle down my spine. My entire body stilled, and my heart started beating like a marathon runner’s after a race.
There’s only one person who created that kind of pull from me. There’s only one person who my body recognized on a most singular level like that.
No way.
There’s no way Gabriel was here.
I was staring down at my drink, not moving, when a pair of sinewy, masculine arms encased in dress sleeves, rolled up to the elbow, planted on either side of me, caging me in.
I knew it was Gabriel then, without a doubt. I’d know his scent anywhere. His front was pressed against my back and his breath tickled my ear when he leaned in and whispered, “It only took me an hour to find you, Justice.” My entire spine shivered. “So, seeing as how I met your little deadline, how about I pull that sorry excuse for a dress you’re wearing up, right here on this bar stool, whip out my dick and fuck you right here in front of everyone?”
It took a couple of seconds to find my voice, but all I said was, “Gabriel…”
Chapter 10
Gabriel~
If it wasn’t for the existence of cell phones and social media, I would have. I would have called her on her little ultimatum and fucked her at this bar in front of everyone.
But even as pissed off as I was, even as horny as I was, even as unhinged as I was, I was in the wrong here. Justice was just doing what any other woman on the planet does, eventually. She was out looking for love. And all because she didn’t know she already had it.
She had mine.
I knew better than to tell her that right now though. She wouldn’t believe me. She would just think it was some last-minute manipulation tactic to calm her down. And I wouldn’t blame her.
I didn’t blame her for any of this. I was the one who read people for a living and I completely dropped the ball with her.
“Do you have a tab?” She didn’t voice her answer. She just shook her head no. I reached for my wallet, grabbed a hundred and threw it on the bar. It didn’t matter if she already paid or not, left a tip or not. It was time I started taking care of what was mine, and even if she didn’t know it yet, she was mine.
I’ve just been doing a piss-poor job of it up until now.
Justice hopped off the barstool and my hand immediately went to her waist to steady her. “Are you okay?”
She grabbed her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder. “I’m fine,” she clipped out. Something told me my arrival was quickly killing her buzz.
