Relief flows through me and some of the tension leaves my body when I can't see his face anymore. The music thrums, mixing with my heartbeat as I look at my savior, and I feel like this night's going to change my life. The stage is almost prepared for the main act, a rock band that's hot on the charts and has a fresh sound. I've been looking forward to it, but now I have another sweet distraction.
Trying to shake off my anxiety, I poke the guy playfully in the chest. "You got a blue leotard under there?"
He arches an eyebrow at me, confused but with a grin on his face. Fuck, he's hot. "No, why?"
"The way you showed up and saved me from that creep, you must be Superman," I joke. "I'm wondering where you keep the red cape."
He chuckles, taking the seat next to me. "Nope, not Superman, but I have to admit to being called the man of steel a few times in my life."
I arch an eyebrow. "Modest much?" Looking at him and his cut physique, though, I don't doubt him. That suit can only hide so much of his body.
"You asked what I had under my suit. I was just telling you. Being real, you know?" His eyes twinkle, and something tells me he's biting back a joke. I can't help it, I smile. I like a man who can keep up with my sense of humor.
But the other half of my mind is dirty enough to know what he's talking about. He has balls of steel and a huge, throbbing, steely cock. Fuck, we haven't even introduced ourselves and I'm already getting hot.
"So what's your name then, Superman?" I ask.
He chuckles as if he's unused to a woman being so direct with him. "Jake," he says. "How about you, Angel?"
"Roxy," I say. I love the way he calls me Angel, even though I feel like anything but right now. Angel definitely sounds better than horny succubus. "And before you ask, yes, I rock hard."
He laughs. "Cheeky, aren't you? I like the name. It's cute."
"Why not sexy? Or hot? I like that better than cute."
"I'd say you have all three covered," he growls lightly, sitting next to me. "I can think of a few more words to describe you too."
A flush comes to my cheeks at his compliment and I'm momentarily robbed of speech. This guy's a silver-tongued devil, and he's got a voice that seems to heat my body every time he speaks.
He nods at my beer. "I don't peg you for a Bud Light girl."
I recover and shake my head, making a face. "I'm not-haven't touched it. I don't really like beer."
He grabs the bottle and sets it in front of him and signals one of the waitresses. "Let's get something new for the lady!"
She comes over and gives him a look like she'd love to take him out back and ride him like a cowgirl. I know Jake has to be used to it though. The man's probably a player. Then again, maybe that's what I need tonight-a man who knows what he's got, knows how to use it, and knows how to make me scream to the heavens. "Something in particular?"
He turns to me, giving me a wink. "She'd like a Sex On My Face."
I gawk, shocked at his forwardness, but the waitress doesn't even bat an eye. And in my mind's eye, I can see myself grinding all over those sexy lips of his. My face turns red at the thought and I push it away. For now. "Of course, sir."
"You didn't have to do that," I say, trusting that I was just ordered a drink and not a room at the Holiday Inn.
"Nonsense, you've got to try it," Jake says with a laugh. "It's one of the house specials."
His persuasive charm just wins me over. The waitress brings back the drink, and at first I think it looks like an iced tea. I take a sip, my eyes widening. "This is good!"
He winks at me. "Told you. Take it slow. I've heard that they can hit hard." He takes the beer and sniffs it, then turns it up, drinking about half of it. "So, how'd you hear about the club?"
"My friend Hannah," I say, pointing her out on the floor. "She told me about it. I needed a night out to relax and have some fun."
And I need a man like you to take care of a certain need, I think to myself.
Jake nods. "Well, you picked the right place. Even for opening night, it's not over the top. This place has class."
"You're telling me," I agree. I think it'll be what makes Club Jasmine popular for a long time. They could pack this place and tear the dance floor up, sure. But the building's got enough inherent class and charm that it'll be a chill spot too. "What about you? What brings you here?"
A slight smirk comes to one of his lips. "I'm friends with one of the owners."
I stare at him as I take a sip of the delicious drink. It's something else he's not letting on to, but honestly, I don't give a fuck. I didn't come here to learn his life history. And I damn sure don't care about his friend. I just can't get over how handsome he is. Those lips look like they could do damage between my legs, and the more I see them move, the more I want to feel them pressed against mine.
He asks me more questions about myself, but I can barely hear or find the focus to answer. I can only focus on his perfect smile. The more he talks, the more I feel like I want him. Even if it is only for a night.
I finish my drink in a hungry gulp and lick my lips in the most seductive manner I can. Damn, I don't know if that drink was seriously that good or if literally anything would taste amazing right now.
"I was thinking . . ." I say, running my hand along his arm. Shit, I'm playing the seductress to the hilt. I even have my next line planned, something about how I'd like to have a little more sex . . . on his face.
He raises a brow at me, and anxiety twists my stomach as I look into his eyes. I'm suddenly uncertain. He has to get more pussy than animal control. My ego can't take a hit right now.
But looking around the room, I realize one thing. He's the only one I want. If I can't have Jake, I'm going home alone.
I suck in a breath. Fuck it-you only live once.
"Look, would you like to go somewhere?" I cringe. I know I must sound so fucking desperate, like some slutty skank. But isn't that what I came here for? I'm hot and heavy and this guy is doing crazy things to my ovaries just by sitting next to me. I need him.
He turns, looking me in the eye. "Direct, aren't we? I can't imagine an angel like you . . ."
I'm shocked when he seems to steel himself. He turns the bottle up and in one gulp drinks the rest, smacking it down on the bar, and growls almost ferally. "Let's go."
He gets up from the seat and I jump to my feet. He puts his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the back of the club. "Where are we going?"
"Told you, I know the owners. There are . . . private places around here," he says, and I dismiss it. Fuck, I don't care if he takes me into the VIP bathroom. I'll take it right now.
The show is about to start for the band. I'm gonna miss it but I don't care. He takes me through a door and into a hallway. We come up to another door, and like magic, he produces a key to get in. Before I can ask him why he has a key, he's on me like a dog in heat, pushing me up against the wall and devouring my mouth in a hungry, fiery kiss.
Our lips crash together, and he's doing crazy things to my body, his hands roaming over my dress and lighting my skin on fire.
"Take me," I moan, my thighs trembling with need. Ten long months. And if that huge, hard cock pressing against my thigh is any indication, I want it right fucking now.
"Not here," he half-moans, half-slurs in lust, stepping back and taking me by the hand. He leads me down the darkened hall to a room. He opens the door and turns on the light. It's a medium-sized room with a bed and some rugs in the center. What the fuck is a bed doing back here?
But I don't care about that. I want him.
He's back on me again, and we're kissing, his hands tugging on my dress. With every inch of my skin that's exposed, the fire in my stomach grows as I feel all the sexual frustration start to boil over.
"I'm gonna give you a night to remember," I growl in his ear as I pull off his shirt. "You'll never forget Roxy."
Damn, call the exorcist. I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like the devil himself has possessed my body.
I rip off his shirt with an animalistic snarl. The air freezes in my lungs when I see the hard abs of his stomach. He wasn't fucking lying about being the man of steel. The rest of him has to be pure perfection.
"Your tits are amaaazing," he says, his slur growing, his hands squeezing my breast weakly.
What the fuck? Damn, how is he drunk already? He only had that one beer. I pay it no mind. I push him back onto the bed, tugging my skirt up to my waist and mounting his hips, feeling the hard bulge of his groin rub against my panties.
"Fuuuuuck, baby," he moans. His voice is sluggish. "I love how aggressive youuuu are . . ."
"Shh, baby," I tell him, slipping my dress down and showing him my breasts, turning my dress into just a band around my waist. "You ain't seen nothin' yet."