Wanted(95)

“Baby.” He sighed, his body still trembling against mine as I clung to him.

After a moment, I pulled reluctantly away. “I should probably change before we go.”

“No,” he said, as he reached for some napkins and cleaned us both up. “Keep the skirt and the panties on.”

“Really?”

“I like it,” he said. “I like knowing you’re freshly fucked. That just a few minutes ago your legs were wide and I was deep inside you. I like you sitting there in your little work outfit looking all proper, and knowing that I’m the reason your panties are damp. It reminds me that you’re mine. At least for a few more days.”

“I am yours,” I said. I always will be.

I didn’t say the last part aloud, but he knew it. How could he not? Hadn’t I learned that Evan Black knew me better than anyone?

“I’m serious,” Kat said, holding up her third beer. “I think the two of you should go skydiving.”

I glanced at Evan, who was clearly amused by my very drunk friend.

“And why would we want to do that?” Evan asked.

“Well,” Kat said, leaning across the table with a very serious expression. “In case you hadn’t noticed, our little Angie is a bit of a thrillseeker.”

“No,” Evan said, his voice laced with mock surprise.

“It’s true.” Kat nodded a few times too many, as if she was trying to mimic a bobble-head doll. “And you need to make sure that she gets it out of her system, because once she moves to D.C., she’s going to be boring as shit. Daddy issues,” she added, in a mock whisper. “It’s true. Honest.”

“What’s true is that you are taking a taxi home,” I said, forcing myself to smile and sound lighthearted when I really wanted to strangle my friend. My move was barreling down on me, and I didn’t want to be reminded of it, thank you very much. Even more, I didn’t want Evan reminded of it.

“Are you suggesting I’m drunk?”

“Not suggesting at all. Flat-out stating.”

“Drunk or not,” Evan said, “I think your friend has a great idea. Shall I arrange for a skydiving session?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“And here I thought you wanted to fly.”

Beneath the table, I cupped my hand over his cock and smiled sweetly. “That’s what I have you for,” I said. My voice was a tease, but I meant every word.

In the interest of public decorum, I started to move my hand away, but he pressed his hand over mine, holding my palm firmly in place. He met my eyes, his amused, and I couldn’t help but grin.

“The lady makes a good point,” Evan said, and I had to laugh. I wasn’t the only one who got off on the thrill.

“She has so got you wrapped around her little finger,” Kat said.

“She does,” Evan agreed cheerfully, and Kat flashed me a brilliant, approving smile.

“So where’s Cole?” I asked as Kat signaled to a waitress for another round of drinks. “It’s almost eight-thirty.”

“I’ve texted him twice,” Evan said. “No answer.”

We’d arrived only ten minutes late thanks to Evan’s ability to maneuver the Thunderbird at incredibly fast and unsafe speeds. But there’d been no need to hurry. Cole was still MIA, and Flynn had gotten stuck covering another shift, and so the hour he’d planned to take off to hang with us now had him behind the bar working his ass off. And when he wasn’t running around mixing drinks, he was occupied by a woman who looked to be in her early forties, and who kept calling him over to talk to her.

Kat had noticed her first and pointed her out to me. Now we’d both been eyeing the action, trying to figure out who she was to Flynn. I guessed she was no one—just a woman looking to get laid by the cute bartender. Probably recently divorced. Probably had a crappy day at work.

“I think she’s looking to fool around while her husband’s out of town,” Kat said when we’d gone to the ladies’ room together.

“I hope not. The last thing Flynn needs is a pissed-off husband poking around.”

Whoever she was, she was keeping Flynn busy. He’d only made it to our table once, and that was just to introduce himself to Evan. I was hopeful that when Cole showed up the second bartender would have made it in to work, and Flynn could take a break.

“There he is,” Evan said, looking toward the entrance. Then he pushed back his chair and stood. “Something’s wrong.”

Since I was a head shorter than Evan, I couldn’t see Cole’s approach until I stood as well. The moment I did, I knew that Evan was right. Cole was like a storm of muscle moving toward us, his expression thunderous. Even his usually kind eyes flashed with fury that he wasn’t bothering to conceal.