Willpower? Fat chance.
“What do you say, Brett? Do you want a ride?” No missing the way his voice went husky at the word ride.
Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.
This was not the AJ Walsh she remembered. Back then he’d come off as a gentleman.
Right now there was nothing gentlemanly about him. His expression was downright smoldering, broad body radiating pure sex appeal.
If he took her home, she knew it wouldn’t end with her walking up to her apartment alone.
But she still had to make sure she wasn’t misinterpreting that look on his face.
“What are you really asking me?” she said bluntly.
“I’m asking if I can take you home and screw your brains out.”
Her thighs clenched so hard she almost keeled over. Okay, well, that certainly left nothing to interpretation.
“Judging by your response, I think you like the sound of that.” There was something smugly male in his voice.
Hers was embarrassingly squeaky and as weak as her attempted ignorance. “What response?”
He flashed a knowing smile. “What, you think I can’t tell when a woman is attracted to me?”
Nope, this was not the AJ she remembered. The golden boy was gone, replaced by a primal creature teeming with raw sexual energy. The electricity in the air was liable to burn her alive.
“Y-you…” She swallowed hard. “You don’t seem like the kind of man who does stuff like this. Sleeping with someone you’ve just met…”
“Why do women always take it upon themselves to decide what kind of man I am?”
“Am I wrong?” she challenged.
After a beat, he gave a sheepish grin. “Fine. I haven’t had a lot of one-night stands. But…” His eyes burned. “I have a feeling not going home with you tonight would be the biggest mistake of my life.”
She didn’t have time to absorb that intense answer, because suddenly he was touching her.
Holy hell. The air damn near incinerated when his callused fingertips stroked her wrist, sweeping over the roses inked on her skin.
“Let me take you home, Brett,” he said roughly. “Let me show you who I am.”
Her breath got stuck in her lungs when he brought his other hand into play. He traced the line of her jaw before sliding his palm behind her neck, then dragging it higher so he could thread his fingers through her hair.
His touch was magic. Sweet and gentle and—or not, she amended when he gave her hair a sharp tug. He nudged her head to the side to bare her throat, his spicy, masculine scent drugging her senses as his head dipped and he planted a hot kiss on her even hotter flesh.
Brett gasped at the sharp sting of teeth nipping her neck. “I know who you are,” she stammered. “Or at least I thought I did.”
A dark laugh fanned over her skin. “I’m pretty sure you thought wrong.” He planted an openmouthed kiss right beneath her ear.
She moaned.
“Christ, you smell so fucking good.” AJ rubbed his cheek on the side of her throat, his stubble scratching her hypersensitized skin.
He still hadn’t kissed her on the mouth, and her lips were trembling in anticipation. When he released her and took a step back, she actually whimpered in disappointment.
“My car’s parked in the back,” he said huskily. “Why don’t you say good-bye to your friends and then meet me in the parking lot?”
God, she should say no.
But what came out was, “Don’t you have to go back to work?”
He smiled. “I’m co-owner of this place. I can take off whenever I want.”
The revelation that he owned the club barely registered. She was too focused on the curve of his lips, too entranced by the seductive smile that once again brought an ache to her core.
“Final answer?” he drawled after her silence had dragged on too long.
Say no.
Are you crazy? Say yes!
Her brain and her libido were fighting a battle inside her, and she struggled to reconcile the conflicting pleas. She really should say no. She was supposed to be making smart decisions these days—a one-night stand with a guy she knew from high school was not a smart decision. It was a reckless one.
But…damn it, he was so gorgeous she couldn’t look away. And her body still tingled from his skillful touch, his hot mouth on her neck, his intoxicating scent.
She took a breath. “Yes.”
He tipped his head. “Yes?”
“Yes, I’d like you to take me home.”
There. She’d said it. No turning back now.
She would walk the smart-decision path tomorrow. Tonight, she was taking a detour.
She was choosing reckless.
Chapter Three
The car ride was riddled with fits and spurts of conversation, which only highlighted the problem with spur-of-the-moment decisions—they rarely ever stayed spur of the moment, at least not unless the invitation for sex was immediately followed by said sex. But since there’d be no sexing until they reached Brett’s apartment, she had no choice but to make small talk with the man whose bones she desperately wanted to jump.