Phoenix Burning(28)
This maid was passing by one day
All alone and lone
She saw those babes, both out for play
All down by th’ greenwood side
O Mother, dear Mother, we once't were yours
All alone and lone
You neither gave us course nor fine
You killed and buried us under a stone
An' prayed to th’ Lord, it would never be known
All down by th’ greenwood side
Chapter Nine
Alex kept one eye on the door while he pulled beers, mixed cocktails, and smiled pretty for the customers. His job had never seemed so much like real work. Of course he’d never actively waited for one person to arrive either. His liaisons didn’t work like that. He loved them while they were there and forgot them when they left. Which was why his preoccupation with Emory was so far outside the parameters of normal.
He flashed his most charming smile at a group of twenty-something women enjoying a girls’ night out and the attentions of a group of guys fresh off a nearby soccer field. They laughed and bantered back and forth as Alex poured a round of shots. Had he ever been that young? It was starting to feel as if he’d aged years in the last month.
Not month, just since Emory walked through that door.
Why had she come to a place like Phoenix Rising? He’d been certain she was just another woman out to find a quick lay. Now he wasn’t so sure. The whole afternoon—interrupting her conversation with MacIntyre, sex in her bedroom, her orgasm issues—it all seemed so surreal.
“Hey, Alex, can I get a Bud draft?” Wade hung over the bar to get Alex’s attention.
“Sure man, no problem.” Alex flipped a clean mug right side up and pulled the beer, leaving the head frothing on top the way Wade liked it. “So, did you and the little dark-haired chick have fun last night?”
In the four years Alex had known Wade, they had discussed a million women. It was usually an evaluation of one that had walked through the door or a pleasant memory on a quiet night. Never had Alex asked the guy to kiss and tell.
Wade rubbed his jaw, his hand moving from his face to his short-cropped black hair. “I didn’t do anything but kiss that poor thing. She seemed interested at first, but she froze like an ice cube when things got going. I’d bet my next paycheck she’s got some major issues going on.”
Alex hadn’t realized he was still carrying around a knot of doubt until that very moment. He’d wanted to believe she was being straight with him. His instincts demanded he believe her, help her somehow, but years of street savvy were hard to let go of. “She just froze? Like how?”
“Honestly? It was like something paralyzed her. I didn’t get the feeling she was afraid of me, just that she was being battered by something I couldn’t fight for her.” Wade took a giant gulp of beer, swiping at the froth on his lips. “I felt bad for her. Five minutes with me, and she was curled up in the fetal position on the floor, rocking back and forth and humming to herself. Sort of scary.”
Alex was gripping the edge of the counter without realizing it. His hands were clenched, his whole body reacting to Wade’s description. He thought of her sweetly responsive body. The way she melted at his touch, only to wind herself into a tightly wrapped ball of nerves that would not, could not, let go.
He had to find a way to help her let loose.
“So, I’m guessing you spent the afternoon with the dark-haired girl you met last night?” Alex looked up to realize that Wade had drifted away and Connor had come behind the bar.
One thing Alex had learned about Connor over the years was that he only looked like a muscle head with no brains. Whether it was the time he’d spent in a penitentiary or just a natural inclination, Connor understood people. He could predict their emotions, their reactions, their motivations, and the choices they would make, usually before they did. Jessa was probably the only exception to this rule, though since love was almost always blind, it was an acceptable defect. Alex sometimes got the impression that it drove Connor nuts that he couldn’t predict Jessa.
Connor leaned back against the counter facing the room, his eyes scanning the crowd. “Jessa told me that girl runs the flower shop around the corner.”
“Have you ever met a woman who couldn’t have an orgasm?”
“Couldn’t as in physically couldn’t, or wouldn’t allow herself to reach a climax?” Connor’s gaze briefly flicked back toward Alex before returning to his perpetual scanning.
Which was it? Alex hadn’t considered the ramifications of either option. “She’s not deliberately holding back, and I’m almost positive it isn’t a physical defect of some kind.”