Intoxicated (3 page)

A quick glance over Jack’s shoulder revealed Brian staring at them with shock and disapproval…or was that jealousy? Brian had never looked at her that way – not even in the beginning when their relationship had been fresh and new. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but a sudden desire for revenge swept over her like a rogue wave. Brian didn’t like Jack and never had. It would bruise his considerable ego to see that his spurned fiancée had moved on to someone else so quickly, that she had replaced him with someone like Jack. She straightened on her barstool. If Brian expected her to sit at home, bawling her eyes out, he was sadly mistaken.
 

She turned to Jack. “I suppose you think you can solve all my problems.” She kept her tone light and flirtatious, the way she’d heard Becca talk to guys.

“I’d like to try. You want to make that cheating bastard jealous? Maybe we need to remind him of what he’s lost.” Once again he was in her head, anticipating her thoughts. He grinned and bit his lower lip. The gesture drew her gaze to his wide mouth. Full, sensuous, and slightly pink, those lips looked as if they’d just finished kissing someone. The thought sent pangs of desire shooting through her womb. She pressed her thighs together to stave them off. “I’m here for you, Popsicle. Whatever you need.”

“I didn’t think one-on-one was your thing.”
 

“Well, your friends can come, too.” The dark eyes gleamed. “If you’ll pardon the pun.”

“That’s a generous offer, but I wouldn’t want to get lost in the crowd.” She attempted to toss her head, wobbled drunkenly, and gripped the bar to stabilize. “Maybe you should go ask Miss Ponytail over there. She seems to have a thing for you.” She nodded in the direction of Jack’s Seat of Shame, to the somewhat wilted blond who watched them with disappointment in her eyes.

“Yeah, she’s willing…but girls like her are a dime a dozen.” He shrugged and leaned down to her. “You on the other hand…” With his mouth lingering millimeters away, his breath washed warm and soft over her ear. “You take my breath away and always have. Say the word and I’ll ditch her. We can take your mind off those problems you’re having. Consider it a birthday gift from me to you.”

They stared at each other. Brian and Becca were forgotten. Jack’s boldness shocked her and sent her wavering between amused disbelief and turned-on. A lifetime of experience had taught her that guys like Jack weren’t interested in girls like her. They went for long-legged beauties with easy smiles and short skirts, not shy curvaceous girls with eating issues. With a sigh, she ran a finger around the edge of her shot glass. This had to be some sort of prank. The endless parade of girls through his Seat of Shame suggested that he could have any girl he wanted – so why her?

A glance over his shoulder at Brian and Becca steeled her nerve. The hell with her insecurities. The promise of revenge tasted so much sweeter.

“Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about it.” Her words shocked her words but she took the leap, her confidence buoyed by the disapproving glares of Becca and Brian.

Jack’s dark eyes narrowed as he weighed her sincerity. Her breath caught at the sultry stare. She might be the tiniest bit over her head. Guys like Jack took no prisoners and she could be his next – albeit willing – casualty. He jerked his head toward the back hallway. There was only one reason Jack took girls into the back and everyone knew it. Throwing caution to the wind, she abandoned her barstool and followed a few seconds behind him, noting with satisfaction Brian’s open-mouthed surprise and Becca’s tight-lipped frown.
 

Jack didn’t turn around until they reached the end of the hallway. The only light came from the red exit sign above the back door which cast a devilish red glow on his angular features. She leaned against the wall, legs shaky more from nervousness than liquor-induced intoxication. She’d never done anything like this before – never dreamed of doing anything like this. Jack stopped and turned to face her, staring with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

One second passed, then two, dragging by with leaden feet.

In a flash, like two opposing magnets, their bodies snapped together. His lips crushed against her mouth and his hands cupped her face. Any thoughts of Brian dissolved in the sensation of being pressed against the wall by a tall hunk of manly perfection. Soft lips caressed and demanded. Her willing mouth opened to receive his kiss. Bearded stubble raked her chin as he pushed her back against the wall. A moan of pleasure escaped them both when he slid his hands upward to hold her breasts.
 

The sensation of helplessness that happens just before a disaster, of being out of control and powerless to stop it, overwhelmed her. It was like driving a car on ice, unable to steer but committed to the ride. The hardness of his body dominated her softness. She ran her hands underneath his shirt to feel the swell and hollow of his muscular chest. Jack pulled her skirt up, well above her thighs. They moved in perfect accord as if they had done it a million times, as if they belonged together in the darkened hallway. Her heart fluttered in excitement and her stomach clenched as his hand slid between her thighs.

Rough and demanding, his muscular length pinned her against the smoke stained wall. Skillful fingers moved between her thighs to bring her to a fever pitch. The loud music of the band vibrated through the wall and into her back. He tasted of cigarettes and whiskey and smelled faintly of leather and soap. Her liquor-soaked brain tried and failed to sort through all the sensations. The picture above her left shoulder rattled on its nail. She knew exactly how it felt, poised on the brink of falling and helpless to stop it. Jack put his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. She wanted nothing more than to surrender, to let him take her in the back hallway of Felony, to eradicate any memories of Becca and Brian.

Brian…

Reason reared its ugly head and she panicked. She shoved hard on his chest and tore her lips from his.
 

“Wait! Please.” The words were barely more than a gasp, but he heard her and froze.
 

The music stopped and all she could hear was the thundering of her blood in her ears. They stood staring at each other, chests heaving, struggling for breath. After a few seconds, Jack swallowed hard and disentangled from her, backed away slowly until he was certain that she wouldn’t fall, and began to right his clothing. Her fingers shook and stumbled over the buttons of her blouse as she rushed to cover her exposed breasts.
 

“Well, that was unexpected.” Jack’s voice broke the silence, hoarse and rough. Did he mean the kiss or her abrupt change of heart? “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no,” she said, embarrassed. The guy must think she was a complete moron. “I can’t do this. I mean…I’m drunk and upset. This is all wrong.” Her hands trembled as unshed tears welled up in her eyes.
Damn! What was it with the tears today?

Jack covered her hands with his and held them between their chests. When she looked up, the left corner of his lips curved in a smile and his eyes twinkled.

“It’s alright. No big deal.” He dropped a light kiss on her forehead. “You’re right. This is not the time or the place.” He released her hands and deftly buttoned up her blouse. “Now close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax.”

She closed her eyes. Cleansing air rushed into her lungs. She took in a deep breath then exhaled. He was right; she felt better immediately. The band started playing again. She opened her eyes and their gazes met. They both grinned and her insecurities floated away.

“I can’t find my panties,” she said. “I know I had them just a minute ago.”

“I have that effect on women.” His smile broadened to reveal those delicious dimples. “Panties just fall off and disappear into thin air when I’m around.”
 

He lit up a cigarette, violating the city non-smoking ban, and took a deep drag on it, eyeing her with cool interest. To her surprise, he took one of her hands in his. His grip was warm and reassuring. For some reason, she felt oddly comfortable with the guy like she’d known him forever. But what
did
she know about him? Nothing really…not where he lived or where he came from.

“You don’t even know my name,” she said, thoughts taking shape aloud.
 

“Allegra Taylor. But your friends call you Ally or Al,” he said. “125 Old Towne Road. You like peppermint gum and you floss your teeth with those little plastic pick things.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“You left your purse on the bar when you went to the bathroom and I might have taken a peek inside it.” He had the good grace to look a trifle abashed, but his dark eyes flashed with mischief. When her brow furrowed, he raised an eyebrow as if daring her to chastise him.

 
“You did what?” At her look of horror, he laughed. The warm and pleasant sound washed over her, bringing a fresh tingle of excitement to her breasts and a shy smile to her lips.
 

They fell into silence again as he smoked his cigarette, tendrils of smoke curling around his head. Jack continued to watch her with dark inscrutable eyes, the fingers of his left hand laced through hers. If only this moment could last forever, she thought while knowing that it would have to end. As if to prove her right, the hall door opened. A big guy with auburn hair, poked his head into the hallway and seemed relieved to find them both clothed.

“Jack! Phone,” the guy said. “It’s you-know-who again.”

“Take a message,” Jack bellowed still staring at Ally.
 

“Take your own damn message. What am I – your secretary?” The guy turned and disappeared. The door banged shut behind him.

“Shit.” Jack sighed, dropped his cigarette to the floor, and crushed it out with the heel of his battered cowboy boot. He looked her up and down, face inscrutable. “I’ve got concert tickets for tomorrow night. Wanna go?”

“Are you asking me on a date? I thought you didn’t do dates.” For the thousandth time that night, her heart skipped a beat. She put a hand on her chest to quiet it as if he could hear it thudding against her ribs.

“I don’t, but seems like you need a night out and I have an extra ticket.” He ran a finger along her cheek and traced the dimple tucked there. Unlike Jack whose face was a study of symmetry, she only had one dimple. “It’s a perk of the job. Promoters are always handing out tickets. We could grab something to eat beforehand. Make an evening of it.”

“I don’t know…” She bit her lower lip in contemplation as she wavered between flattered and distrust. The drunken, irrational part of her jumped up and down in excitement while the insecure, conservative part shook its head in warning. If he was able to charm the panties off of her after a few drinks, what might happen in the space of a few hours of close contact? “Thanks, but I’m not sure that I’m up for it quite yet.”

“Suit yourself. Maybe another time.” With an easy shrug, he turned and walked down the hallway. “Take it easy.” Something pink twirled around his finger as he walked.
 

My panties.

“Hey! Give those back.”

“Souvenir,” he replied. “Something to remember you by.” He crushed the silk fabric in his hand, buried his nose in it, and took in a deep breath. Over his shoulder, he shot her another one of those dark, mischievous glances, a look that she was beginning to covet.

He disappeared through the doorway and left her to lean against the wall for a few more minutes in an attempt to pull herself together. Tomorrow she would feel embarrassed and remorseful. In the present she was dizzy, euphoric, and a little bit disappointed that nothing more had happened. Her lips tingled from his kiss, a kiss that lit a desire unlike any she had ever known. Now she knew exactly why the redheaded girl was crying…because he was just that good. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she was drawn to him.

Get a grip, Taylor. You’ve made it this far. Don’t fall apart now.

She exited back into the flashing lights and pulsating music, feeling a little like Alice emerging from the rabbit hole. Smoke from the stage hung thick in the air obscuring all but the vaguest of details. For a moment, she forgot where she was. She turned in a circle to get her bearings and ran straight into Brian.

CHAPTER THREE

Ally’s hands splayed out on Brian’s chest in an attempt to stay upright. He gripped her biceps and held her out in front of him. The music, loud and gritty, reverberated through her chest. Brian recovered in an instant and dragged her over to the side of the bar. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jack return from the office looking preoccupied. He went straight to the cash register and slapped some money into the big auburn-haired guy’s hand.
 

Brian squeezed her arms in a demand for attention. Hazy from Jack’s kisses and all the liquor, it took a moment for her eyes to focus in on his scowl. Every hair on his sandy brown head was sleeked into place. He wasn’t nearly as handsome as she remembered. Compared to Jack’s edgy bad-boy chic, Brian’s smarmy smirk, button-down white shirt, and khaki pants seemed fastidious and dull. Or maybe he had always been that way and she had been too dazzled by his pedigree and bank statement to notice.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What were you doing back there with that guy? You were gone forever.”

“Let go of me.” She tried to step back, but his iron grip kept her frozen in place. “I have nothing more to say to you, Brian.” It was true; she’d already said everything she had to say the night of The Breakup, the night that she’d found him screwing the brains out of her best friend. The realization brought a bit of peace to her disgruntled soul, but righteous indignation still smoldered beneath the surface.