Chasing Desire (Chasing Love 3)

Chapter One

“Another, please,” Autumn Lane said to the hotel bartender, tapping her empty cocktail glass. The older man came over, mixed another fruity alcoholic drink, and refilled her cup.

It had been a hell of night. Actually, it had been a hell of a month. Her father’s notorious bad luck seemed to be hereditary, because Autumn couldn’t get a win lately.

First, she lost her mechanic shop—and by proxy, her home connected to it. And by lost, she meant that her father gambled it away. She’d been staying in a crappy hotel back home for a few days while job hunting.

If that wasn’t enough, last month, the guy she’d been seeing decided to dump her because “she just didn’t do it for him anymore.” Autumn rolled her eyes. He was into giggling adorably feminine types, and that wasn’t her. Never had been. That hadn’t stopped her from trying to be what he needed and make it work.

Turned out she’d wasted the past year with a douche who’d used her for free labor to get his motor running in more ways than one. Pathetic part was, he was the closest thing she’d had to a friend back home.

Yet between her own father, and a poor excuse for an ex, Autumn knew better than to expect anyone to choose her—much less value her. If her dad, just once, would have thought of her wellbeing before his own, if her ex would have wanted her for more than an easy fix, maybe the ache in her gut wouldn’t sting so bad.

Staring into her cocktail, she also realized how alone she was.

“Whatever,” she whispered to herself and took a long swallow of her drink. It was already midnight, and she was in a new town. After dropping off her bags in her room, she came to the bar to drown in a little alcohol before taking on the next step of her life.

She had a place to stay lined up for the next two weeks. She just had to get through tomorrow first. But after that, she’d be fine. Sure, she’d lost her home, shop, and boyfriend, but she had prospects for the first two. As for the last? She didn’t want a boyfriend. Not anymore.

It had been a month since her ex had dumped her, and honestly, the thing that hurt the most was finding out he thought her worth little more than a few romps in the sack and a summary goodbye.

Which made tonight all the easier to embrace. She was done jumping from relationship to relationship. Why waste a second waiting for someone to let her know it wasn’t going anywhere long-term? She’d just take the word “long-term” out of her vocabulary altogether.

As for short-term? Oh, she was ready to find out how delicious short-term could be.

The best way to get over a man was to get under a different one. And that made tonight’s mission all the more clear.

She’d be locked in this hotel for the next twenty-four hours, and surely there must be someone around to help her relieve a little stress. Business was slow at the bar, but there were a few people scattered throughout. She’d even seen a few hot guys here and there.

Especially one who’d walked through the hallway earlier. Everyone else was wearing button up shirts and slacks, all too stuffy for her taste tonight. But this guy was in a T-shirt and jeans, and the tattoos on his biceps were visible from across the room. She had half a mind to find him and seduce her way into his bed.

She just needed a plan. And at least one more drink.

“That looks like a sorrow-drowning drink,” a sexily deep voice said from behind her. “Either that or a broken-hearted drink.”

Autumn looked to her left and saw—

Oh my. Him. Mr. Tattooed Biceps himself. He took a seat next to her at the bar.

His timing was perfect. Maybe this was the universe’s way of letting her know that as long as she only asked for what she was worth, it would be happy to provide.

“I’m not a party with a martini kind of girl,” she said, and then she finished off her drink.

“What kind of girl are you then?” he asked. He had a slight drawl to his words. Slow and steady and smoldering.

Oh my.

She smiled. “The kind that doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Understood,” he said. The bartender came back over, and Mr. Sexy kept his green eyes fastened on her and grinned. “I’ll have what she’s having. And would the lady like another?”

The lady? He might look the part of the bad boy, but there was a gentlemanly charm to him. She’d thought her cocktail had the perfect mix of sweet and salty, but thi

s guy looked—and smelled—like he’d be the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted.

“Yes, please,” she said.

The T-shirt he wore clung to some serious muscles and gave sight to the tattoos on his biceps. His dark hair was longish, and when he ran a hand through it, she saw a few piercings along his ears.

I wonder if he has any piercings anywhere else…

With any luck, she wouldn’t need to ask. She’d have him on the bed, undressed, with all of his tattoos and potential piercings there for her to savor. Just the way she wanted it. No words. Just desire.

He raised his glass and gestured toward her. “Here’s to not talking about it.”

She saluted back, and they both took long sips. If she didn’t know better, Mr. Sexy looked to have a few things rolling around in his head that he didn’t want to talk about either. Maybe she was in better company than she’d thought. But would he be up for a one night, no strings kind of fling?

“Gotta admit, honey,” he said. “The way you’re looking me over makes me all giddy.”

A small laughed escaped her. He had a good sense of humor, and she wanted to play this game.

“I’m sorry, wouldn’t want to be overly obvious in my thoughts.”

“Oh? And what thoughts are those?”

This was fun. She was in the driver’s seat, and though everything about this man screamed alpha, he seemed fine letting her take the lead. Which was what she needed.

She slid her gaze over him, openly appreciating his physique. She wasn’t shy or misinformed about men. She’d been raised—for lack of a better word—by a man, and she knew how they operated.

“I was just wondering about your tattoos and piercings.” She leaned in a little, and god he smelled good. “I think you’re an iceberg. There’s always more beneath the surface that you can’t see.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why, Miss Stranger, are you flirting with me?” he asked with a hot smile.

“Yes, sir, I am.”