I snort and choke back a sob at the same time, and his grin only grows.
"Marry me," he says, making it sound like a command as his lips twitch.
Even as I slide the ring on, my eyes meet his in challenge. It's probably corny as hell, but I say the only appropriate answer there is.
"Make me," I whisper, then immediately giggle when he's on his feet and crushing his lips to mine.
And he does.
Over and over and over again.
Right on that damn pier.
THE END
To catch a peek at Taming a Maverick, keep reading.
– TAMING A MAVERICK –
SALEM
My thoughts are broken up when I see something I can't stop staring at. I've seen sexy men all over Sterling Shore. Silk seemed like the best place to come find the ones who are on the prowl, which is the only reason I came.
I want a good time with no strings, something dirty and scandalous, and I want to do it without the women from back home whispering about it in the morning.
And I just found exactly what I want.
Inky black hair is tousled and wet-due to the rainstorm outside. My hair is still damp from the rain I endured on the way in here. But he makes wet hair beyond sexy.
He's tall, at least 6'3, maybe even taller. And he walks like he knows exactly how sexy he is. Good. I love it when they're cocky.
As he moves through the entryway of the club, people greet him, and he flashes them a smile that could easily prompt a girl to melt or throw her panties at him like an offering. After the few customary fist bumps and typical dude nods, he moves toward a back booth that rests higher on a platform area.
The seats are too high for me to see the people he's standing in front of and talking to, but a waitress basically rushes over to him, bringing him a beer he couldn't have ordered. Apparently he's a regular.
That's good to know.
His shirt has an odd logo on the front, something that looks like a band name. His jeans are dark and frayed in some places, hanging low on his hips in all the right ways. Muscles flex beneath the semi-tight shirt he's wearing, and he's not even trying to flex them. He'll definitely do for a night of fun.
It's only right I have a proper introduction to Sterling Shore.
It becomes obvious that I'm not the only one interested when several girls wave at him, and he gives them a wink. But his interest returns to that damn booth. I can't help but be curious who is back there. That platform section is roped off as VIP.
There's not a bouncer keeping people away from it, so I could always wander up there and act as though I didn't realize it wasn't open to the lowly public.
The second another girl runs her hand up his arm, basically inviting him to fuck her with just her touch and her eyes, I start to realize he's not going to be too easy. He has options-too many of them.
Leaning back against the bar, I observe, studying him, and sizing him up as my prey. I'll need to make him come to me. A guy who gets chased would prefer a little chasing of his own.
It'll be a little hard, considering most of these women are absolutely stunning and dressed to slay a man.
I'm dressed as a predator and not the prey, so this should be an interesting challenge.
No way can I pull off coy or innocent like this.
My short leather shorts are barely below my ass. My top is a little flashy, considering it's barely a top at all. The back is completely missing, tethered to me by only a small string across the shoulder blades, and the front hangs loosely, stopping just above my navel. I might as well be screaming easy one-night-stand.
See my dilemma? I'm trying to be a challenge now, and there's nothing challenging about this attire.
"Not that one," a woman says to me from behind the bar.
I turn just in time to see a pair of dazzling white teeth behind a red-lip grin.
Shiny, dark, mahogany hair drapes around her shoulders, looking freshly dyed. And she slides a beer down the bar to a waiting hand that snatches it up.
"Were you talking to me?" I ask unsurely.
"Yep. You're eyeing that booth, aren't you?"
I nod, shrugging casually while glancing back once again. This time, the unknown guy's dark eyes turn to meet mine at the exact same moment, and he bites his lower lip while shamelessly raking his eyes over me from head to toe.
Hmmm. Maybe I was wrong.
Heat floods my veins, and I start to wonder if I can handle him the way I thought I could. He's not even touching me, and I'm already on fire.
"Ah hell," the girl says, and I force myself to look away.
He knows I exist, and now it's obvious he's interested. A little game of cat and mouse should seal the deal.
"What?" I muse, half listening.
"That one is the worst. If you're going to mess with someone from that group, I'd tell you to pick Dale. But Dale just got engaged."
"And is the guy I'm looking at a dangerous guy?" I ask, considering it's not exactly safe to take someone home from a bar.
She snorts out a laugh. "Not physically, but he'll damage you emotionally if you get attached."
"Personal experience?" I ask her, even though I probably shouldn't be so nosy.
She smirks and shakes her head. "I'm not a bitter ex warding you off. I've never slept with anyone that hangs with that crowd. My friend Raya has, but her experience was different from mine. Girls like me and you … we don't belong in the mix with money and egos. Those guys can have anyone they want. Don't expect them to want you for longer than a hot minute."
I've seen that happen more than once, so I don't doubt she's telling the truth. I like this girl more and more. She's not judging or criticizing, but she's offering life experience.
"I take it these people are regulars?" I ask, even though I still haven't seen anyone inside that private, high-backed booth.
"Yep. That one's cousin owns the club. All of them own the city. Meet the elite of Sterling Shore. Back there is Corbin, Ruby, Tria, Kode, Jax, and the one you're staring at is Ma-"
"Ember, I need you to keep up!" a man behind the bar shouts, and the woman talking to me rolls her eyes.
"I should have never come back," she sighs. "I need to get back to work. Steer clear of him. He's a handful that doesn't stick around for too long."
As she walks away, I find myself smiling. She was sweet enough to think she was warning me. All she did was cement my plans for the night.
It's highly unlikely I'll be in Sterling Shore for long. I need to have as much fun as possible before I get shipped back to Georgia.
When you are constantly stared at and judged, you grow used to feeling eyes on your back. I don't know if it's him that's watching, but I hope so, because I definitely feel the burn of someone's gaze.
Several guys ask me to dance on my way to the dance floor, but I just ignore them, making sure I look damn hard-to-get to the predator seeking prey. I chance a glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, he's watching me with intrigue, slowly sipping his beer while leaning against the wall with his back turned to the booth.
I smirk, deliberately staring into his dark eyes, and I turn back around, moving my body to the music while I wait. And then I move away from some random's groping hands to wait some more.
And I continue to wait, and wait …
Seriously? Is he honestly going to just keep watching and not make a move?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
C.M. Owens is a USA Today Bestselling author of over 30 novels. She always loves a good laugh, and lives and breathes the emotions of the characters she becomes attached to. Though she came from a family of musicians, she has zero abilities with instruments, sounds like a strangled cat when she sings, and her dancing is downright embarrassing. Just ask anyone who knows her. Her creativity rests solely in the written word. Her family is grateful that she gave up her quest to become a famous singer.
You can find her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
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