He sees me looking and holds his arm out as he tells me what it says. “Fate loves the fearless.”
I grab hold of his arm and position it so I can read it better. The moment I touch him, I feel it, and I know he feels it, too, because his eyes show it. There’s an undeniable spark between us, and as soon as it hits me, my body lights up at the thought of sleeping with him.
As I let go of him, he leans his face close to mine and asks, “You feel that?”
Not letting go of his eyes, I nod. The slow burn of desire is eliciting a hunger in me I haven’t felt for a long time. And I sense he wants me just as much as I want him. “I do,” I finally answer him, slightly breathless.
The beat of the music surrounds us, and the crowd threatens to drown us, but I am lost to the moment and almost unaware of everything else as we search each other’s eyes. I’m sure I detect warmth and kindness in his. Odd that I’m getting all that when I’ve just met him, but I would swear it on a bible.
He slowly moves his face away from mine and drinks some of his drink. As he places the glass back on the bar, he says, “I’m Jett.”
“Presley.”
A smile tugs at his lips. “Your parents are Elvis fans?”
“My mother is and my father is blinded by love. She could have called me Elvis and he wouldn’t have blinked.”
This inspires a laugh out of him. “Your parents are still happily married?”
“Yeah, go figure. How many marriages do you know of that are still going strong after thirty years?”
His eyes twinkle. “My parents are still happy after thirty-five years. I guess you and I are like some weird science experiment. It kinda sucks, really.”
Frowning, I ask, “Why?”
He throws the rest of his drink back, his eyes still twinkling. “When you don’t come from a fucked-up family, you can hardly blame your issues on your parents, can you? Nope, you and me, we have to own our fucking issues.”
I burst out laughing. “You are so right. Shit, pass me my drink, I can’t cope with this knowledge.”
Shaking his head, he holds my drink away from me. “Bad idea, sweetheart. You have no one to blame your alcoholism on except yourself. I suggest you give up alcohol straight away and find a new vice that’s not as socially unacceptable as alcohol addiction.”
Oh, this is fun. I raise my eyebrows. “What do you suggest?”
He doesn’t even hesitate. “Sex addiction. Take that shit up. Much easier to hide from public view. And a lot more fucking fun than dealing with hangovers.”
“I wouldn’t know the first thing about taking that up. You think you could help me with that?”
He pulls a face like it’s the hardest question he’s ever been asked. Nodding, he says, “Sure. You want to get started now?”
My core clenches at the thought, and I lean into him and say, “You’ve no idea how much I want to get started on that now, Jett.”
He sucks in a breath, and his hand curls around my neck. “You sure? Because once I’m finished with you, you’re going to have an addiction that will be hard to kick.”
“I’m more than sure. But if my newfound addiction gets out of hand, you might have to step up and help me break it.”
“Oh baby, I can’t think of one good reason to break that kind of addiction. No, I’ll just step up and feed it. Can’t have you fighting cravings, can we?”
Now it’s my turn to suck in a breath. “Jett, it’s fun to stand here and flirt with you, but I’ve gotta say, I’d rather you take me back to my hotel and fuck me.”
He grins. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Grabbing my hand, he begins to lead me away from the bar but I pull back and stop him. When he gives me a questioning look, I say, “I need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”
“Sure.”
I dial Darla. She’s in this club somewhere, but I haven’t seen her for a good hour. A couple of moments later, after I’ve spoken to her, Jett and I leave the club. I’m barely containing myself; I haven’t been this excited for sex in a long time.
Thank god the hotel I’m staying at is close because Jett can’t keep his hands off me and I’m about to explode with desire. We stumble through the door to my room and he pushes me up against the wall before pressing his lips to mine in a searing kiss. He tastes so good. I could spend hours devouring his lips and mouth. When his tongue tangles with mine, I moan and thread my hands through his hair. He groans and grinds his erection against me.