Night After Night(5)

“I had a feeling you might like those.”

“Did you?”

“I always know how to match a drink to a man.”

He tapped the side of his beer glass. “Then I’d like to know why I have a beer here in front of me. Tell me that, Julia.”

She paused, tilted her head to side with a mischievous flare to her moves, then licked those luscious lips. Damn her; she was hotter than words, and she knew how to play. “When it comes right down to it, a man should drink what the bartender gives him,” she said in a sultry voice that made him want to hear her say other things. Lots of other things. Like Hold me down hard. Or Tease me with your tongue. Yeah, those sorts of things. “That’s the best match I can make.”

“I don’t want you making that match for anyone else then tonight,” he said firmly, giving her a hard stare, reminding her that he could play too. Because he knew exactly what he wanted. Her. And he didn’t want anyone else to have a shot. “Especially because I’m finding the bartender has excellent taste.”

She raised an eyebrow. “She does. She has impeccable taste, and she’s only making one match tonight,” she said, layering her words thick and hot with innuendo.

He wasn’t entirely sure where the evening was going next, only because he wasn’t the kind of man to take a woman like Julia for granted. He wasn’t going to make any sort of assumptions because assumptions got you into trouble in life. He knew that well from his line of work, and from the crap he’d dealt with from his ex, who’d brought heaps of heartache to him in their last few months together before it ended. It was also entirely possibly that Julia was a shameless flirt, angling for a big tip with her saucy little mouth. You couldn’t rule anything out, and regardless of where the night ended up, he planned on tipping her well for her bartending work because the woman was doing a hell of a job.

There were other jobs he’d like from her though.

Soon the crowds thinned, and Julia finished up the last call, and then she leaned across the bar, her lips dangerously near his jaw. “You don’t have to go when I lock up. In fact, you are more than welcome to stay.”

Oh yeah. He was entirely sure where the evening was going now.

CHAPTER THREE

The sound of the lock snapping closed was wholly satisfying. It was the sound of one part of the night ending and another part beginning. A better part. A possibly delectable part.

The no strings attached that she needed. This man, in town and then heading out of town, seemed like the absolute perfect fit for her.

She could act all prim and demure like she planned to just kiss Clay and send him on his way. But the thought of getting hot and bothered and then forbidding any south of the border activity had zero appeal to her. She was going for him, for all of him. She didn’t care if that made her sex-hungry. She was hungry for sex. She was jonesing for the kind of roll in the hay that would demolish the tension in her shoulders, let her forget the things she wanted to forget. She had so much trouble in her life, thanks but no thanks to her ex, who’d left town and saddled her with all his problems. Life had been non-stop pressure and worry since then, and she needed a break from it for one night.

Yeah, she was ready to screw the stress right out of her system, and this man seemed the ideal candidate.

Clay was waiting at the bar, tall and hard and sexy as hell in his jeans and button-down shirt. Julia wasn’t naive enough to think there was anything deeper going on than a chemical reaction. But what a reaction it was. Her body was drawn to him. His voice affected her, and his dark eyes were so mesmerizing they lured her in. But looks didn’t always make for a good lover, did they? No. A good lover took care of a woman, made sure she came first, and then again and again. And Julia could go for an orgasm or two tonight. Maybe even three.

Could this man deliver the goods beyond the surface? Were his hands and his tongue as worthy as the rest of him?

When she returned to him, she didn’t mince words. She didn’t have time for bullshit, or dating. She was a woman who spoke her mind. “So here’s the thing. I’ve got an idea of how I see the rest of the night playing out. What I’m wondering is if it aligns with yours?”

“Horizontally? That sort of alignment?”

She nodded several times. “I see we’re in agreement. So does that mean you’re going to put out for me tonight?” She asked with a wicked grin, teasing him with the teenage crudeness of her words.

He cracked up and so did she. Julia liked even more than he could appreciate her dry and dirty humor.

“Yeah. I think I’ll put out for you tonight,” he said, then stalked closer, his solid body nearing hers, erasing the space between them as he cupped her cheeks in his hands, and captured her mouth in a hot, wet kiss. It wasn’t a slow kiss or a dreamy kiss. No, it was a hungry one that sent a rush of heat flooding her veins. He spun her around, lifted her up on the bar, then edged himself between her legs as he slid his tongue over hers, explored her lips and her mouth as he kissed her hard and furiously. Like she wanted to be kissed, his stubbled jaw rough against her face. He thread his hands into her hair and he wasn’t gentle with his touch, and she thanked her lucky stars for that. Softness was for kittens, pillows and pretty cashmere sweaters. Sex needed to be hard, hot and oh-so-rough around the edges.