I can’t resist reaching out to touch her again, this time tucking a stray lock of chestnut-colored hair behind her ear. The urge to take her in my arms and hold her tight flares inside me. And to say I’m not the cuddling type would be a huge fucking understatement. But this is Macey, and I really don’t like seeing her like this.
She inhales sharply at the contact, but her gaze stays on mine. “How about a drink first?”
I nod, and placing my hand against her lower back, lead the way toward the bar.
Helping Macey onto the only open bar stool, I stand beside her and gesture to the bartender.
My head is still spinning from the scene upstairs I just witnessed. I helped Hale with his new submissive, Brielle, just moment ago. She’d presented her tight little ass to us at his command, and even with her on display, all I could think about was getting back to Macey. I couldn’t believe when my security staff called me over, pointing to the woman near the door who’d asked to speak with me. But before I could gather my courage to approach her, Hale called my cell, asking for backup with his scene. Of course I went.
All I could think about was Macey during the scene, how Hale’s little fucking sister was out there waiting for me. If anyone tried to pick her up or take her to a private room, so help me, I would rip his arms off and beat him with them. And since that would be bad for business, I was hoping it didn’t come to that. Hale would freak out if he knew she was here, so I kept things brief and stayed quiet about that fact, before slipping out of the room to return to her. And now that I’m standing with her, I’m speechless once again.
The bar is packed, given that it’s New Year’s, and we watch the bartender filling drink orders and slinging bottles for a couple of quiet moments.
“Why don’t you start out by telling me exactly why you came here tonight?” I ask. Last I knew, Macey had been living in Miami.
“Let me give you a hint.” She leans closer, letting the weight of her generous breasts brush against my chest as she bends close to my ear. “My personal life went to shit, and now I need hot, sweaty sex. I need forget-my-own-name sex.”
The sweet little Macey I remember has left the building, folks.
My cock hardens instantly.
Just then, the bartender saunters up and asks what we’re craving, a little tagline my publicity company came up with. All the bar staff and waitresses have been trained to use it.
Having not spent any time with the adult version of Macey, I have no idea what she drinks, so I’m surprised when she orders herself a whiskey, neat. It’s a hell of a woman who drinks whiskey straight up, or maybe she’s more thrown off at seeing me than she’s letting on. I sure as fuck am. Something in me likes that she’s not a fruity-drink type of girl. Her personality is straightforward and intoxicating, and her drink choice reflects it.
Once we’ve settled in with our cocktails, her eyes land on mine again. “So it’s true then.”
“What’s true?” I ask before swallowing a mouthful of scotch.
“That you own this place.”
I give her a nod.
She bites her lip as she toys with her glass, then brings her gaze back to me. “When I got into town tonight and Cameron wasn’t answering his phone, I Googled you.”
Watching her expression, I’m trying to read her, knowing she’s thinking I never had a penchant for kink when she and I were together. But I’m not explaining the reason why to her. Now, or hopefully ever.
“How long will you be in town?” I ask, my curiosity edging out my better judgment.
“For good,” she says, leveling me with those big blue eyes. “I lost my job, left my cheating ex-boyfriend, packed everything I owned, and here I am.”
Damn.
Macey worked as a newscaster for a Latin TV station in Miami. She double-majored in Spanish and Journalism in college, earning both degrees ahead of schedule. She’s smart and driven, and ambitious. Which is why it surprises me to hear her say she’s just thrown in the towel on it all.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” It explains the sadness radiating from her that I picked up on earlier. “So, what’s on your agenda now, other than hot, sweaty pounding?”
“Why don’t you finish that drink first, and I’ll tell you.”
“Are you trying to get me liquored up, Macey?”
“And what if I was?”
A slow, sassy smile uncurls on her mouth, and holy fuck. This girl is going be trouble; I can tell in an instant. But this can’t be like six years ago where I lose my shit completely, only to have her waltz out of town again when the next opportunity pops up.
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