She steps back out of my arms, and now it’s me that’s in a daze. My eyes follow the sway of her sweet ass as she leads me to a table where two men are sitting. One of them has a girl on his lap with his hand under her skirt, while the other is watching the two. I’m too focused on the woman in front of me to care about the very public sexual display going on. I briefly notice that the one who’s watching looks familiar, but pay it no mind.
“Tell Ava I’m out, and I’ll call her later,” she yells into the watcher’s ear.
Watcher looks at me and gives me the once-over, looking mildly curious. I barely hold in my snarl when he leans in and says something in her ear, his eyes never leaving mine. Her hand is still in mine, and I want to yank her away from him. Seeing her so close to another man, knowing he can smell her sweet scent, infuriates me.
What the fuck is this? I don’t know this chick. Why the hell do I care who she gets close to? Yes, she’s beautiful. Yes, I want to fuck her until she can’t walk for a week, and I plan to do just that. But I don’t give a fuck who she’s had before, or who she’ll have after. She’s easy, sexy as all hell, and appears to take care of herself. I normally require knowing a girl for at least five minutes before I take her to bed, but with this one, I’ll make an exception.
She pulls back from the guy and they share a private look, one I don’t like at all.
“Call me when you get done,” he says, barely loud enough for me to hear.
Is he her fucking keeper? Is she a prostitute and he her pimp? Or is he just a concerned friend? As much as my body wants hers, I never do prostitutes, and I sure as shit won’t start now.
We’re in the middle of the parking lot when I pull her to a stop. I notice her hand shaking slightly in mine.
“Hold up there, baby.” She turns to me, impatience warring in her eyes. She looks around, before bringing her eyes back to mine. “You’re not a whore, are you?”
I cringe once the words leave my mouth, and see the hurt and anger in her eyes. I guess I could have worded that better, but we need to settle this before we go any further. She needs to understand that I don’t pay for sex, and I won’t sleep with a woman that trades for favors, either.
“No, I’m not,” she practically snarls.
“What the hell was that back there? Is he your boyfriend? Do you two have some sort of open relationship?”
“No. He’s just a friend that likes to watch after me.” When she tries to pull her hand from mine, I grip it tighter. “Look,” she says, releasing a sigh. “If you don’t want to do this, say so now. I can find someone else.”
That idea has my jaw ticking and my head pounding. No fucking way will she find someone else as long as I’m standing right here.
I yank her forward until her chest meets mine. Both my arms wrap around her waist, and she brings her hands to my chest. She stares up at me with wide eyes. I dip down to run my tongue along the seam of her lips, but she turns her head just before I make contact. Instead, I trail my lips to her ear.
“I definitely want this,” I whisper, then nip her earlobe. “I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t going to have some jealous boyfriend or pimp after my ass.”
I lift my head and look down at her. Her lips are parted and her breaths are quick. Even in the dark, I can see that her pupils are dilated. Her face is filled with lust and longing.
“What’s your name, baby?”
She peeks her tongue out to lick her lips before answering. “Abigail. People call me Abby.”
“Abby,” I murmur, liking the way it sounds. It’s a beautiful name. It fits her. “I’m Colt.”
“Blue,” she says again. “I like Blue. I think that’s what I’ll call you.”
I smile and lean down to place my lips over hers, but she stops me again by pulling away. “Let’s go to my place. My car is over there.” She points to a cherry red Volkswagen Beetle. “You follow me.”
“How far?”
“Twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes is far too long to go and not have at least a taste of her. Her eyes widen in surprise when I jerk her forward and she slams against my chest. I try again to kiss her, and again she avoids me by turning her head away.
What the fuck?
“Give me your lips,” I growl. The need to taste her is overwhelming.
“No. I don’t kiss the men I sleep with.” Her voice may sound strong, but there’s an underlying hint of vulnerability as well.
“Why the fuck not?”
She shakes her head, before bringing her weary eyes back to mine. “Because it’s too personal.”