Rocket (Hell's Handlers MC 5)

Blue-eyes stalked straight toward her, oblivious to the appreciative glances women threw his way. Of course, they looked and admired. The man had that potent mix of power and beauty with an air danger. He was magnetic.

Without asking if the seat was taken or issuing some kind of cheesy pickup line, he parked himself on the empty stool next to her. Chloe swallowed around her dry throat then lifted her drink to her lips only to discover an empty glass.

“Another?” Blue-eyes said.

Before she thought the better of it, she nodded.

Shit.

One drink was all she ever allowed herself. She nursed it for hours if necessary, until she was ready to leave. Sliding into tipsy territory was far too hazardous. Being tipsy meant feeling comfortable, friendly, hell, even amorous. It led to letting down her guard and that could be a fatal mistake.

No, she needed to remain in control each and every minute of the night.

The man lifted his hand toward Rich, then motioned to her drink. Two minutes later, eyebrow arched in question, the bartender slash friend of sorts slid a second drink her way.

She gave Rich as reassuring a smile as she could. His eyes flicked toward the entrance where a muscle-bound bouncer sat checking identification. Chloe gave a subtle shake of her head.

Wasn’t necessary. Blue-eyes hadn’t done a single thing wrong or creepy. Hell, he hadn’t done anything. Just ordered her a second drink, something men did for women every night in bars all across the world. Having him tossed out on his ass would be quite the overreaction.

Rich just shrugged, sent the man a chilly look, then moved on to the next patron.

Chloe blew out a breath. Just because he’d bought her a drink didn’t mean she had to drink it or choose him as her companion for the evening.

Steeling her spine, she faced him only to find a slight smirk on his full lips. Damn, why couldn’t he be a hideous ogre? She cleared her throat and lifted the glass. “Thank you, uh…”

“Logan,” he said, the deep timbre of his voice washing over her like a warm wave.

“Thank you, Logan.” Shit. Why the hell had she acted as though she wanted his name? Learning his name wasn’t necessary. In fact, it was a hinderance to the evening’s goal.

He lifted his own drink, scotch if she had to guess, and tapped it against her glass. “And thank you for not having the bouncer haul me out to the parking lot.” His expression remained serious, but there was a teasing quality to his statement.

A shaky laugh escaped her. So, he was observant as well as sexy. “You from around here?” she asked, then immediately wished she could take the words back. They were part of her well-practiced spiel. The script she used when choosing a partner for the night. Since she’d already ruled him out, she needed to take a different path.

“No. Just in town for the weekend.” He didn’t offer anything beyond that. Usually the men she spoke with enjoyed talking about themselves and why they were visiting the area.

A quick peek at his left hand reveled a naked ring finger devoid of tan lines. A good indication he wasn’t married.

You’re not picking him.

“You?”

“Huh?” Why did he have to smell so good? Not cologne as most of the men she met wore. Hell, she could pretty much tell them all with a single sniff by now. No, this guy smelled, clean, fresh, with an undertone of…sawdust? Interesting, unexpected, and masculine as hell.

“You live here?”

Yes, yes. Say yes. If she did it would seal his fate. She’d never leave with him if he knew she lived nearby. “No. I had some business in the area. I’ll be heading out of town tomorrow morning.”

Shit. She sucked back half her drink in one gulp. So much for not drinking it. So much for not picking up this guy.

Double shit.

“You here alone?” He asked, his already sexy voice leaving no doubt as to his intent. They weren’t touching. Not even their knees had brushed though they faced each other. Yet somehow the heat of his body was already flowing its way into hers. Watching him trail a long finger around the rim of his glass, she shivered. Those hands would probably feel amazing…

What the fuck was wrong with her?

Even if she’d been planning to leave with him, he wouldn’t be touching her. The game didn’t work that way.

“Um, yeah. Just me.” God, she was losing her mind. She sucked down another gulp.

He looked her straight in the eye. “You got a room nearby?”

As though a puppeteer was controlling the movement of her head, her chin lifted then fell in a single nod.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked.

Completely mesmerized by the play of his lips as he spoke, Chloe had the distinct impression he was a spider drawing her into his web, a complete reversal of her usual role.