Page 34 of Deny Me

“What would be the fun in that?” I laughed.

He just raised an eyebrow and smiled, hinting at all the ways he could make that fun.

Once everything was paid, he grabbed my hand and we made our way to the side entrance to the club. When the door opened, we were hit by the bass of the song. With his hand on the small of my back, he guided me to the bar.

“What do you want to drink?” he asked, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

Turning in his arms, I looked up innocently. “A blow job.”

His eyes flicked down to my tongue rolling across my lips and swallowed hard. With a nod, he moved me to his side and wedged his way into a spot against the crowded bar. I watched him fail over and over to get the two male bartenders’ attention. Watching his jaw clench in frustration for a couple more minutes, I then decided to put the man out of his misery. He was so used to running a more low-key bar and didn’t realize that a bigger club was all about the ladies getting served and the male bartenders getting tipped for it. Jameson was fair at his bar and worked hard to practice a first come, first served attitude. But not here. That dark-haired, tanned male behind the bar was working his dimples into every smile against the poor drunk women in the bar.

Moving under Jameson’s arm, I forced my way into his spot against the bar. “What do you want to order?”

“I don’t need you to do it. If this guy would just open his eyes, I could order my damn beer and move along.”

“Oh, Jameson. You’re so cute. Let Evie take care of it for you.” I stood up on my tiptoes and rested my elbows against the high bar, pushing my breasts between my upper arms, accentuating the cleavage spilling out of the deep v of my top. When the bartender began walking past us again, I kept my eyes glued to him, waiting for him to take the bait. His eyes flicked to my breasts and up to my eyes. I even licked my lips slowly and bit my bottom lip. When he slowed, all I had to do was speak a soft, “Hey,” and he was in front of me waiting for my order.

Boys were so easy.

“What can I get for you, beautiful?” He leaned in closer than necessary so I could hear him speak and kept his eyes mostly glued to my bared skin. Feeling his eyes move over me made my skin crawl unexpectedly. I flirted with guys all the time to get drinks and their attention never bothered me. But feeling Jameson at my back made it feel wrong to have another man ogling me.

I dragged my finger down the side of my neck, lowering it to my chest to subtly shift the fabric to cover more skin. “Hmmm… I would love a blow job,” I answered. I wanted to make sure we got service all night. And despite my hesitance to continue flirting, I was a girl with a plan and I wasn’t backing down.

His mouth kicked up on the side at my choice of drink. “Anything you want gorgeous, a blow job, sex on the beach … screaming orgasm.” I wanted to laugh at his lewd suggestions. But a large hand landing on my hip and pressing into my bottom made me hold it back.

“I’ll take a beer to go along with my girl’s blow job,” Jameson growled over my head, dragging his hand from my hip to my shoulder, clearly staking his claim on me. As though the ‘my girl’ comment wasn’t enough. I tried to ignore the butterflies that started in my stomach and rushed to my chest, reminding myself I was no one’s girl but my own.

But maybe tonight – just tonight – I could be Jameson’s girl. Not just the girl he sleeps with in Jamaica, but the kind of girl who allows herself to be claimed by him.

The bartender straightened and let his eyes travel up to find Jameson, who I was sure was glaring at him with disapproval. But the bartender was brave and winked at me. I had to fight to not roll my eyes. “One beer … and a blow job … coming right up.”

Jameson’s head came down to my ear and bit into the fleshy lobe, the overgrown stubble in his chin abrading my neck. “You want to put your tits away or are you going to just go ahead and pull them all the way out to lock in the free drinks?”

I tipped my head back and nipped at his chin. “It got us our drinks, didn’t it?”

He grunted, staring down at me. He seemed to be weighing his words. “You want to fuck him?”

My eyebrows shot up, not at all expecting that question. A pinch of irritation almost made me say yes to prove a point that it didn’t matter if I did or not. I answered to no one. Instead, I squinted my eyes and gave a noncommittal, “Maybe.” Immediately, I wanted to choke back the words. I didn’t want to fuck the bartender, and my pure stubbornness made me regrettably snobby.

I was about to take my words back when his grip tightened around my hip and jerked me into him. “I don’t fucking share, Evelyn.”

His claim flooded me with heat, warming my core. A very small part of me was irritated at the fact that I enjoyed him wanting to claim me. Lots of men had wanted me, but I never cared if I was with them more than once. This feeling of warmth blooming in my chest at the territorial light in his eyes, confused me. Not knowing how to handle the new emotions, I shrugged my shoulder and muttered an ambiguous, “Okay,” and turned back to the bar just as the sexy bartender set our drinks down.

“One blow job for the sexiest girl at the bar.” He was laying it on thick and apparently had a death wish, because I could feel the anger radiating off Jameson and I wasn’t sure how the man was still standing. “If you need another blow job, my name is Andrew. Give me a holler anytime.”

He moved down the bar, but kept his eyes glued to mine when I leaned forward and licked the whip cream from the glass. Making sure I turned so Jameson could watch me, I leaned down and picked the glass up with my lips, tipping it back and swallowing the liquid in one go before setting it back down. Standing back up, I met Jameson’s heated stare. I wiped the excess liquid from my lip with my finger before sucking my finger into my mouth.

I knew Andrew was down the bar watching my show, but this was purely for Jameson. I knew I had irritated him with my flirting, and I wanted to let him know he was the one that held my attention. His hand snapped out to grip my wrist and pulled the same fingers to his mouth, dragging his tongue from my knuckle to my fingertip and sucked them into his mouth. It sent a shock from my hand, straight up my arm and down to my core.

He stepped back, pulling me with him. When we were clear of the bar, he leaned down, “Dance for me.” His command made my pussy clench. Who knew his control would turn me on so much?

I eased my way through the thin crowd, desire washing over my body with the heavy beat of the music. As I danced for Jameson, men approached me. I looked over them to see the man I wanted, the man I swiveled my hips for, even if it teased the person in front of me. Once Jameson’s eyes glinted in warning, I’d smile and send them away.

Jameson ordered beer for himself, and shots for me. I took a break for one of them, slowly dancing against him with tequila warming my body. I moved back out onto the floor for another man to approach me. Apparently, Jameson was fed up, because he came out to make his claim.

Dancing for Jameson was alluring and sexy as he let his eyes take in my body. But my skin sizzled when he finally wrapped me in his arms and began kissing my neck. Goose bumps broke out along my entire body at the feel of his teeth scraping along my shoulder.

Every so often, I would let my eyes scan the area and catch Andrew watching me. As much as I knew Jameson was the only man for me that night, I couldn’t deny the desire I felt at having another man watch me. Jameson followed my stare and caught Andrew staring. “You like him watching you shake your ass?” he growled.

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