Game Saver (2 page)

“You don’t think we should do the mature thing and get to know each other first? Maybe share our deepest, darkest secrets or something?” I tease.

With one elbow to the bar, the other resting on the back of my bar stool, he leans into me—total personal space invasion—and brings his lips to my ear. “Right now, I’m interested in what’s underneath that fucking dress and how fast I can make you come the first time. The second will be a test of your stamina, and if you can still talk after number three, then we can talk about anything you want.”

Goddamn. This man’s like my dream guy, but dirtier and overly confident in a way that presses all my buttons.

Standing up straight, I find myself fascinated by his mouth, wondering what his lips would feel like if I kissed him. What will they taste like, and how will he use them to follow through on the wicked promises he just made?

I want it. I want him. I’m not a girl with hang-ups but I don’t just go home with random guys willy-nilly. I’m a “take it or leave it” girl. If I’m in the mood and have a connection with a guy, I’ll go home with him but always to their place. That way I can slam, bam, and ‘get my ass out of there’ ma’am. Then, unless I want to see them again, they have no idea how to find me.

Safety first, condoms, and no strings unless you tie them yourself—they’re the three things my hippie mom has drilled into me. “Free love makes the world go ‘round, Abi-Jane, and everyone needs to feel loved at least once in their lives.”

Right now, I’ve decided to roll the dice and take a chance on this good looking, well dressed, obviously well off guy who’s making dirty promises I can only hope he’ll keep.

I finish the last of my cocktail and turn around to find him towering over me. Tall, maybe six foot two, wearing a fitted black button-down that clings to his chest and arms in such a way that you know it’s tailored just for him. His eyes are gentle, sapphire blue, his hair a dirty brown with a flash of auburn. He’s gorgeous and is mine for the taking. So, I decide to indulge.

“Your place or mine?” I ask, shocking myself at the invitation.

“Yours,” he says gruffly, taking a step forward and wedging himself between my thighs, my dress riding up as he moves in.

“I know this is a sex club, but remember the saying ‘lady in public, whore in the bedroom’ . . . ?” I ask with a quirked brow.

“And what would you do if I slid my hand under your dress and slowly inched my fingers between your legs . . .” I’m startled at the touch of his warm skin against mine, exactly where he described. I’m panting now and my heart is trying its best to beat its way out of my chest.

His voice drops low, for my ears only as he continues, “Will you fight your body’s instinct to squirm and moan while you gently ride my fingers . . . right . . . here . . .” His hand dips under my dress, his thumb taunting me over my panties.

I reach up and grab hold of his shoulders, snagging his cropped hair in my fingers and pulling him down to me. “If you’re trying to test me, you’re going to have to do a lot better than that.”

“I always win a challenge, little spitfire,” he says, unfortunately moving his hand back to a more appropriate place.

Deciding this party for two needs to move on to a more private location, I slide off the stool, brushing my body against his, and get a thrill when he doesn’t step back.

I stand next to him, his eyes scanning me top to bottom and back again, as I show him that I’m not, in fact, little, my heels taking me to almost his height. “Big spitfire . . .” he muses, his lips curving up on one side and revealing a dimple that begs to be licked.

“Are you always so forward?” I ask, resting a hand on his hip lightly without thought. It’s not a calculated move. It feels natural. Needed . . .

“Are you always so receptive to the advances of men who don’t fuck around when they see something they want?”

“Only good looking, well dressed ones who act on it.”

“That works for you?”

“So far, it’s you that’s working for me. Whether that pans out or not is up to you . . .” I throw down the gauntlet, and my body itches to see whether he’ll rise to the challenge—and all the creative ways he can do it.

“Say goodbye to your friend . . . ?” He jerks his head toward my best friend Amy—the reason why I’m here alone—and inadvertently gives away just how closely he’s been watching me. Raising his brow, he waits for me to comply.

“Abi,” I say, taking my hand back and offering it out to him.

“Cade,” he rumbles, his voice deep and rough, a sound that could drive you higher or bring you back down. It’s one of those tones you could fall asleep to, climax from, and listen to forever.

What he does next rocks me to the core. He doesn’t shake my hand; instead, he gently wraps his fingers around mine, lifts them up to his mouth, and places a whisper-soft kiss on each of my knuckles, elevating my orgasm detonation level skyward with each new touch. A shiver courses through me from the tips of my toes, up my legs, through my chest, then down to my fingertips. That sexy, slow-growing smile of his widens when my hand trembles in reply.

Remembering the adage of safety first, I turn to the bar and whistle to grab Amy’s attention. She finishes pouring a line of shots then comes my way, leaning in close, her eyes doing a sneaky scan of the man holding my hand and standing at my side before returning to me.

“Are you leaving?” she asks. Captain Obvious.

“Yeah.”

“Everything good?” she presses, her eyes flicking toward Cade.

“They will be in about twenty minutes’ time if the promise of him is—in fact—a sign of very good things to come my way.”

“You going to his?” she says quietly.

“Mine.”

Her eyes bug out and she gasps. “Babe . . . you sure?”

“Yep. Look at him. My creep radar has not pinged once. He’s hot, he’s forward—but no more than me—and his confidence is intriguing as fuck. I’ll text you tomorrow.” She moves her head back and studies me.

“Are you drunk?” she continues.

I grin. “Nope.”

“Is Dani home?”

“Yep.”

Cade says nothing through all of this; he just stands beside me, the heat radiating off his body warming me like a slow-burning fire that could roar to life at any moment.

“You better text me,” she warns, just as Cade squeezes my hand. “Got to go.” She turns her head for me to kiss her cheek like I always do, although I don’t miss her sneaky head-to-toe scan of Cade at the same time. When I stand up straight again, I look at the fine male morsel before me and grin wickedly. This is gonna be fun. “Shall we go?”

“You lead, I’ll follow.”

“From what I’ve seen so far, I’m guessing that’s the only time that’s gonna happen tonight?”

“You’re a quick learner, Spitfire. Let’s go so I can see you ignite with a bang.”

“Promises, promises,” I whisper as I lead Cade away from the bar, his hand resting on my back, his fingers just dipping inside my low-cut dress.

Thankfully we score a cab right outside the door. Even better is Cade’s mouth hitting mine for the very first time the second the car pulls away from the curb.

For the record, I was right. There was no leading required. Cade takes control and plays my body the way he wants. Four times. In one night. Then again in the morning.

That was the only time we hooked up . . . until last night.

Last night, everything changed. Whether that’s a good thing or not is yet to be seen.

All I know is I’ve reviewed the forecast, and I’m predicting orgasms.

The Night Before

Waking up around three, I grab my phone and see my best friend Dani’s name pop up

Dani:
      
You, me, the girls—Mac, Kate, Zoe, Mia, and Sam—as well as their respective men are going to Throb tonight. Zach and I will be there at eight to pick you up.

Me:
      
Chick, I’ve just woken up. Can’t guarantee I won’t be a zombie by eight.

Dani:
      
That’s okay—you’re the friendly kind of zombie. Not an intent-on-infecting-people zombie.

Me:
      
It disturbs me how you can be so geeky yet hilarious while talking about zombies.

Dani:
      
Should we move on to vampires then?

Me:
      
Vampires are hot. The whole ‘I want to suck your blood’ gig does things to a girl.

Dani:
      
Vampire Diaries
is hot. Dracula is not. Although, Brad Pitt in
Interview with a Vampire
. . .

Me:
      
Old-school vampires, totally hot.

Dani:
      
Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you coming out tonight.

Me:
      
Okay, okay. Just make sure I get home in one piece

Dani:
      
Does finding someone to take you home count as one piece or two?

Me:
      
That man of yours needs to spank your ass.

Dani:
      
How do you know he hasn’t already?

Me:
      
Really? Now this I need to hear about, in graphic detail. Wait, let me grab a toy and make this worthwhile.

Dani:
      
Gross! Abi . . .

I left her with that hilarious thought and dragged myself out of bed. I loved my job but working nights was not easy, especially when the rest of the world went about their business while I was sleeping.

But I was happy, life was good, and tonight I’d get to have some fun. With a smile on my face I walked into my bathroom, turned on the shower and hopped in. Now with plans for the night, when I jumped out, I set about doing my chores, working out, and getting ready to see my girls. .