Lady Boner

Chapter 4

ASA

Pushingthrough the door of Whiskey’s, I head toward the bar. After Reed hands me a drink, I turn and face the room, making sure to keep the door in my peripheral vision. I expect it to open at any moment. Now that Taylor knows that I know she follows me around, she doesn’t even attempt to hide herself anymore. Maybe I should be worried she could be one of those stalkers who kidnaps the person they obsess over, and keeps them in a cabin in the woods to do whatever they want to them. There are plenty of wooded areas in and around Silver Falls.

But it amuses me how blatant she is with her stalking. It’s been four days since I confronted her, and each day, except for one, I’ve spotted her. She hasn’t approached me though, and neither have I her. It’s become our little game, I guess you could say.

When I left my hotel tonight, I spotted her in her car pulling out behind me. She followed me straight to Whiskey’s. I thought about walking up to her car to strike up a conversation, but decided against it. I’m curious to see what she’ll do once she comes inside.

It takes her fifteen minutes before she walks through the door. And fuck me sideways. It’s a good thing I’m sitting on a stool, because she would have knocked me on my ass with what she's wearing.

A tiny black dress. One that looks like it was painted on. Or the top does anyway. The top is strapless and makes her tits look bigger than they did the other day. From just below her breast, the material is looser and barely reaches the top of her thighs. I have no doubt if she were to bend over, she’d flash the whole place. My eyes nearly bug out of my head when the light catches the material, and I swear to Christ it looks like it’s almost sheer. My eyes move to her shoes. Another pair of strappy heels, except these have strings that artfully wrap halfway up her calves. Her hair is done up in some weird bun thing, but a few pieces fall down on the sides and back.

She may be a quadruplet, and in so many ways looks like Penelope and their other sisters, but she also looks very different. Penelope’s beautiful, and from the pictures I’ve seen in her office of Harley and Camila, so are the other two, but Taylor, she’s fucking stunning.

Not once does she look my way as she walks to the opposite end of the bar where I am. I track her until she’s planted her ass on a stool. Reed, someone I know she’s very familiar with, comes to her. After he’s poured her a drink, he sets it down in front of her then proceeds to lean on the bar so they can talk. It’s apparent I’m their topic of conversation when Reed glances my way, his eyes full of mirth.

I met Reed a couple of weeks ago here at Whiskey's. If it wasn't for knowing he's currently in a relationship with his two best friends, I would be jealous of the attention Taylor is giving him.

I watch the pair for a moment, irritation forming in my gut. I don’t know why, but I feel slighted by her flippant behavior. I’m not conceited in a way that I think all woman should fall to their knees before me, but fuck, I expected at least a moment of eye contact. If I didn’t see her following me from my hotel to Whiskey’s, and the quick look Reed gave me a moment ago, I would assume Taylor didn’t even know I was here.

I down the rest of my drink and slam my glass on the bar. I look to the end of the bar and gesture to the other bartender for a refill. It only takes a moment for the guy to set it down in front of me. After I snatch it up, I spin around and face the dance floor as I take a hefty swallow.

It’s fucking stupid to let this situation bother me. Especially when there are plenty of other women here I can give my attention to.

One in particular is eyeing me from the dance floor. She’s beautiful with long, blonde hair, seductive eyes, and a body any man would love to worship. She beckons me with her eyes and the way her hips sway to the slow music.

I keep my eyes on her until I finish my drink. Setting my glass down, I get up from my stool and walk toward her.

It’s been a few months since I’ve had a nice hard fuck. I never go this long without a warm and willing body beneath me. It’s that reason I tell myself why Taylor’s behavior is bothering me. It sure as shit isn’t the woman herself. I’m pretty sure I could have damn near any woman in here. And any of them will do for what I need.

The blonde’s smile grows as I approach. “Wow,” she breathes. “Asa Sharpe. You look much yummier in person.”

Her words do nothing for me. I’ve heard some form of them from copious amounts of women. When you’ve been told you were hot enough times, the words begin to roll off your shoulders.

“You look damn sexy yourself.” I say what all women want to hear. “But you looked pretty lonely out here all by yourself.”

Reaching out an arm, I hook it around her middle and tuck her against my chest. She looks up at me with eyes filled with lust.

“It’s a good thing I’ve got you to keep me company now,” she purrs, running her hands up my chest until they latch around my neck.

I kick one corner of my mouth up. “What’s your name?”

“Isabella, but my friends call me Bella.”

I drop my hand lower on her back so it rests just above her ass. “Isabella.” I use her full name. Despite it making me sound like an asshole because we very well could end up in bed together, we aren’t friends. “A pretty name for a beautiful woman.”

She smiles. “Thank you.”

With our hips pressed together, I gently begin moving us to the music. My cock, which should be harder than stone right about now, is only half into the woman in my arms. We don’t talk as we dance, which suits me just fine because my thoughts aren’t exactly on the person I’m dancing with. Instead, they’re on the woman behind me at the bar.

Turning Isabella slowly until I can see the spot where Taylor was a few moments ago, I don’t find her. I begin looking around. I’m an asshole for dancing with one woman while looking for another. I fully blame Taylor. She’s the one who captured my attention with her outlandish tongue and open personality.

It takes me a full minute to finally find Taylor in the crowd on the dance floor. And when I do, something that feels like acid fills my stomach.

She has her arms wrapped around some asshole’s shoulders, while his are around her waist. His hands, like mine on Isabella’s, are really fucking close to her ass. An irrational need to break his fingers fills my head.

Taylor’s head falls back and she laughs at something the guy says, which only fuels my anger. Jealousy isn’t something I feel often, but damned if the ugly beast isn’t biting me right now.

As if she feels my eyes on her, Taylor turns her head and her eyes meet mine. I don’t know what she sees in my gaze, but whatever it is, it must please her because her fucking lips form a smirk. I want to sink my teeth into her lips until the look goes away.

I don’t know how she knows it would get to me, but the woman is doing this shit on purpose.

As much as I want to storm over to Taylor and the guy and lay claim to her, I wait until the song comes to an end. Letting Isabella go, I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it.

“Thank you for the dance,” I say, dropping her hand.