Page 4 of Before Us (Next Generation 3)

“We’ll be fine,” I told the bartender. “Thank you.”

He nodded once.

“Alright, girlfriend.” I took her glass of beer and placed it in front of me. “I think you’re cut off.”

A dark shadow suddenly loomed over the table.

My heart sped up. My hands became clammy. I felt him before I saw him. The scent of leather and spice washed over me, sending my emotions into overdrive.

“Ladies.” A large man placed a tray of beer on the table before sitting across from us. “Mind if we join you?”

“If you’re supplying the beer—” Gigi picked a bottle off the tray “—not at all.”

“I like how you think.” The man nodded once, and we were surrounded.

“Hey, Gigi.”

God that voice. That deep velvet voice. So smooth. So damn confident.

“Hey, Jaron. It’s been awhile,” Gigi slurred, making small talk with the man who had been inside my head for the past several weeks.

“It has. How’s your family?” Jaron pulled up a chair and sat right beside me. He was so close, I might as well have been sitting on his lap.

“Good,” she answered. “How’s yours doing?”

“Not too bad. Busy as always.” Jaron pulled my chair closer to his.

While they continued making small talk, I couldn’t help but notice the way Jaron kept his hand on the edge of my seat. Or how his thumb brushed small circles on my hip. Or how good he smelled. God, he smelled so fucking good. Leather mixed with a hint of spice. It was man. Pure, hard man.

“How’s it going, Piper?”

I chewed my bottom lip, biting back a whimper at the way my name sounded on his tongue. “Good.” I looked up at him then and everything seemed to fall away from around us.

His gray eyes pierced into mine. His dark beard had grown in and was fuller than when I saw him in Paris. What I wouldn’t give to feel it between my legs.

My body heated. I squirmed in my seat.

He smirked, his gaze falling to my mouth. “You look good.”

My heart stuttered at the compliment.

“I still taste good too,” I threw back at him, low enough for only him to hear.

His grin grew. “I bet you do.”

Clearing my throat, I turned back around as Meadow returned from the bathroom.

“Ooh. Hello, boys.” She waggled her eyebrows and sat at the table between the man who gave us the beer, and another one who looked at her like he wanted to be her lap dog.

I laughed, shaking my head.

“Do you ladies come here often?” asked the one who gave us beer.

“Ignore him,” Jaron teased, resting his arm across the back of my chair. His thumb brushed over my bare arm. I should have worn more clothes. “He doesn’t get out much. Isn’t that right, old man?”

“Fuck you I don’t.” The man crossed his arms under his broad chest. He leaned over to Meadow. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.” She grinned. “Why?”

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