He was here. Right in front of me. Close enough to feel the warmth of his body. To inhale his scent… crisp, masculine, woodsy. My body reacted to that scent.
Well, and his overall hotness.
Up close, he was even more handsome. His skin was deep brown, lips full, jawbone strong and angled. His neck was the same, thick, smooth, inviting. I had an urge to lean forward and inhale his skin. But even if I did lean forward, I’d be face to face with a sculpted pec. He was that tall. And muscled.
The skin of his arms was exposed, the cords of his muscles looking like they were carved from freaking marble.
It was then I remembered he spoke.
“I look lonely?” I repeated, my voice scratchy. I cleared my throat and downed more of my beer to hopefully lubricate it.
Other parts of my body were already well lubricated in this man’s presence.
His eyes were on my throat and had been since I swallowed. The gaze was unbridled and uncensored. There was need there. Want.
He wanted me.
Me.
Out of all of the attractive women in this room, one of the arguably most handsome and badass wanted me.
He nodded, watching me intently.
I waited for him to say something more.
He didn’t.
He just stood there, much too close for a polite stranger to stand, staring at me with a gaze that burned off my clothes, my very skin. A gaze that set my panties on fire.
I was not aware that men could turn women on with a simple fricking look. It seemed I’d been missing out on a lot.
My hand shook as I took another sip of my beer.
“What about me looks lonely?” I asked in a husky voice that did not sound at all familiar.
He leaned forward even closer, and I held my breath, unsure of what I was supposed to do.
The wood bar pressed into my back.
Slowly, his eyes flit over me from top to bottom. It was pure torture. As if he were staring at me naked, uncovering every one of my secrets.
Unable to stand it, I let my breath out in a low puff.
His hazel irises locked with mine. They were hickory fire. He didn’t speak for at least thirty seconds. It could’ve been a full minute. Could’ve been a lifetime. The music was no longer playing. There were no more people around us. The air stilled. We were the only people on this planet.
“Your eyes,” he said finally, voice a rough whisper that cut through the silence we’d created.
The thump of the music returned. I heard laughter and cursing once more.
“You have lonely eyes,” he continued. “Mesmerizing. The most mesmerizing eyes I’ve been lucky enough to look into.” His hand lifted, and he brushed hair from my face, fingers skimming my cheek as he did.
If I’d heard this interaction anywhere else, from anyone else, it would’ve been cheesy. I would’ve rolled my eyes at such a line, designed to get into my pants.
While this man was making it clear he did want to get into my pants, there was nothing cheesy about his words. About the way he said them. There was an intimacy in his gaze that should’ve been impossible for someone I’d just met.
Not even technically met. He’d walked up to me and started speaking about my mesmerizing, lonely eyes.
All of this washed over me like a rogue wave, in addition to the buzz from the beer I’d drained in less than five minutes. Though I’d acquired a taste for beer, I had not acquired a tolerance.