Fallen Angels 05 - Possession (14 page)

Nope.

And when she looked back at the other man, he was still staring at her.

Maybe he knew Teresa’s favorite singer?

When all he did was continue to meet her eyes, she wondered if he hadn’t been sent for her—and didn’t that seem somehow … inevitable—

Okaaaaaaay, she told herself as she made her way over to him. Let’s not go all Cupid on this, shall we?

Then again … wow. He was wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket, and that body of his did all the work and then some when it came to giving the clothes structure. Between his incredible eyes and that jawline, the only thing she could think of was that he should be photographed or drawn—someone needed to capture what he looked like permanently.

And on that note, she so wasn’t the only one who noticed him. Every woman glanced in his direction and did a double take.

He, however, was only looking at her.

“Hi,” she said as she came up to him. “I, ah, I don’t suppose you’re waiting for me?”

“Yeah, I am.”

Cait cleared her throat. “Oh, good. Okay. Well, this makes sense then.”

She waited for him to say something. Instead, his eyes slowly went down her body.

Holy … crap. She felt like someone had put her on a hot plate. And even though there were a hundred people around her? Instantly, it was just the two of them, and God help her, she liked it that way—as well as how he was looking at her: He was a stranger who was radiating sex, and rather than being offended, all she could think of was what it would be like to have him doing that while she was naked.

While he was naked—

Yeah, okay, time to step away from the ledge. Any fantasy of that was absolutely insane. She was a lights-out, under-the-covers, missionary kind of girl. Or at least, she had been … back when she’d had a sex life.

A decade ago.

When her lips had to part so she could grab enough oxygen, his eyes locked on her mouth—and he might as well have been kissing her. Pure, animal attraction flared out of his stare, his stance, his body … and she responded to it, her skin, her core warming even further.

Live now, a voice said in her head. Live while you have the chance.

As if he knew what she was thinking, he said, “I get off work at three thirty. Meet me.”

Not a question. Not even an invitation. A demand—like maybe he’d spent time thinking about them hooking up, and whereas it had never dawned on her to follow through on the chance intersection from the night before, he had made a point of crossing her path again.

“I don’t do one-night stands,” she blurted.

“Who says one will be enough.”

Right. Okay. Those words, framed by that deep growl? Talk about a carnal promise.

“I don’t know you.” Damn, her voice was husky.

“Does that matter.”

“Yes.”

He stuck out his hand. “Duke Phillips.”

Walk away, Cait told herself. This is not the seventies. No one has casual sex anymore—

Abruptly, scenes from
Girls
flashed through her mind. With him in the picture, naturally. Great.

“I’m here to meet G.B.” Wow, didn’t that sound like a protest.

He dropped his unshaken hand. “What’s that got to do with me?”

“Wait, I thought he asked you to get me and take me backstage?”

“When I said I came for you, I can assure you, it was not on anybody else’s behalf.”

Cait’s mouth nearly fell open, but she caught it in time. Although come on, it wasn’t like she was sporting any swagger over here, what with the blushing routine and the self-talk about her very non-
Girls
existence.

“Three thirty,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry, I already have … plans.”

“I work at the Iron Mask. Use the staff entrance in from the back parking lot. Ask for me.”

Cait frowned. “Quick question here. Does this approach actually work for you?”

“I’ve never used it before. So you tell me.”

“I don’t like cavemen. And I do not sleep with strangers.”

“I gave you my name. I’m the one at the disadvantage on that.”

Bullshit he had any disadvantage. But at least he didn’t deny that this was just about sex.

He leaned in. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think about me last night.”

“Are you always this arrogant?”

“I don’t worry about what other people think.”

“And what if that kind of attitude doesn’t get you where you want to go.”

He shrugged and resettled against the wall. “You want this, too. Don’t deny it.”

“I cannot believe …” She looked around, expecting G.B. to make an appearance at any moment. “… you.”

The surreal sense that this couldn’t possibly be happening resurged, making her feel a little dizzy. Then again, she wasn’t breathing right and her heart was pounding.

If she fake-fainted, maybe he would catch her and then she could get a real feel for him.

Oh, there was a plan.

“Excuse me?”

Great, she’d said that out loud—

Abruptly, she narrowed her eyes. “How did you know I was going to be here?”

His shrug was casual. “You told me you went to that café for the singer. It’s not that tough to extrapolate you might want to see him again. And he put on his Facebook page that he’s doing backup here tonight. I took a gamble—and you walked through that door. I didn’t know you were meeting up with him.”

Interesting. He expressed himself like he had an education, and he enunciated his words without any accent at all. But the Iron Mask was a hard-core club of some kind—she’d seen its ads in the
CCJ
. So he had to be a bartender or … given his build, a bouncer?

That really shouldn’t have made him even hotter.

Really.

Like, not at all.

“And that doesn’t bother you,” she said absently.

“What? That you’ve got a date with some singer? Christ, no. I don’t care if you were here to meet … Channing Fate-um or whoever that stripper dude is. The only thing that would stop me would be a husband, and you don’t wear a wedding band.”

“What if I told you I had a boyfriend? A partner?”

“Then why are you going out with the singer.”

“I’m not meeting you in the middle of the night. I don’t know you—and the fact that you gave me two random names and offered your palm doesn’t change that.”

“Google me.”

“Not helpful.”

The man, Duke, whoever he was, leaned in again. “Bank on this. If you come over after my shift, I’ll tell you anything you want to know about me. And then I’ll show you the more important stuff.”

Cait licked her lips. “And what would that be.”

“You’ll find out. If you think you can handle it.”

With the smooth move of an all-man type, he walked around her, his body shifting with barely reined-in power. As he passed, he didn’t touch her, brush her arm, lay a hand on her. But he didn’t have to.

He’d already left his mark.

“Damn it,” she whispered as she stared over her shoulder and watched him leave.

“There you are, Cait!”

As Cait heard her name, she turned around. G.B. was weaving in and out of the crowd, waving his hand at her, making progress even as he was recognized and stopped by people.

Forcing a smile, she struggled with a ridiculous sense of guilt as she waved back at him and met him halfway.

“I’m a hugger,” he announced, holding his arms wide.

She went in for the clinch out of reflex. In reality, she could barely concentrate—but as their bodies came together, the woodsy scent of his cologne and the feel of his chest cleared out some of the cobwebs.

Boy, did he smell good.

And close up? He was even more handsome … and that hair was softer than it looked as it brushed against her cheek.

“Hey! G.B.!”

Someone broke up the embrace, and that was all right with her. As she pulled away, she needed a minute.

With a vague thumper starting up behind her eyes, Cait went to rub them—and stopped herself just in time. She had makeup on, so unless she wanted to do this date thing raccoon-style, she’d better chill with the scrubby-scrubby. And it was hard to keep still as G.B. chatted with some woman, her hands fiddling with her purse, the collar of her coat, her hair as she played bystander.

The idea that another man had just come on to her, and that she’d been seriously attracted to him … seemed like something she had to confess—but come on. That was bullcrap. Number one, she was not in a relationship with G.B. Number two, she hadn’t asked tall, dark and wow-are-those-pecs-real? to show up. And number three, even if she decided to meet a stranger at a public place and get to know him in a very “personal” way? That was her choice as an unattached, adult woman.

She wasn’t living under her parents’ roof—or their closed-minded value system—anymore. And she and G.B. had a long way to go before they knew whether there was a future ahead of them.

In fact, if she wanted a chance with Teresa’s favorite singer? The one guaranteed way to screw it up was to start babbling about what was essentially a nothing-at-all.

“So come on back,” G.B. said, taking her arm. “I’ve got you a pass to the green room. We just have to pick it up in the office.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, but really, you didn’t have to go to any trouble—”

“And listen, forget about the penguin suit, okay?”

She glanced over at him. She’d been so rattled, she hadn’t even noticed he was wearing a tuxedo. “Very nice … and you have nothing to be embarrassed by. Trust me.”

“Is that a compliment?” he asked as he punched open a door marked, S
TAFF
O
NLY
.

“It is.”

G.B. looked across his shoulder as he led the way into a concrete corridor. Lids dropping low on his eyes, he murmured, “Well, thank you. I’m glad you like me in it.”

“But you also look good in jeans.”

“Really? Tell me more.” As they laughed, he offered her his arm. “Will you let me be a gentleman?”

“Yes,” she said, tucking a hold on to him. “I will.”

As they walked along, they passed by a placard that read, T
HEATER
O
FFICE
, with an arrow underneath pointing in the direction they were headed.

He pulled her even closer. “I haven’t told you how good you look tonight.”

As his voice deepened some, she was reminded of the way he’d sounded from his bed this morning.

“Do you sleep in the nude?” she blurted out.

“Yes …” His eyes shifted to hers … and they were intense, a deep blue that seemed to offer both a soaring height and a safe place to land. “I do.”

In that moment, it didn’t take much imagination to picture him lying back in some sheets, head on a pillow, arms stretched out, tattoos glowing on his skin.

“Oh…”

“Good or bad,” he prompted.

“What?”

“Is that ‘oh’ a good or bad one?”

“It’s … good.”

“Then can I ask you the same question?”

She hesitated, wishing she had more sophistication going for her. “Well, I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’m not a birthday suit kind of gal.”

“Silk is good on a woman.”

As he wagged his brows—like he was trying to put her at ease, Cait laughed. “Yeah, no, not that.”

“Satin, maybe?”

“Try flannel.”

He nodded sagely, like he was performing a complex analysis in his head. “Hmm, soft. Warm. Can come in patterns other than plaid. Total winner—on you, that is.”

Cait grinned. “You’re being charming again.”

“Still only honest.” He put his hand over his heart. “Just keeping it real over here in tuxedo-land.”

As she laughed again, they rounded a corner, approaching a glass-enclosed reception and office area. “Figure you might as well know up front that I’m not a lingerie girl.”

“Guess what?” Coming up to the see-through door, he opened the way in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s even hotter than anything from La Perla.”

“What’s La Perla?”

G.B. laughed so hard, he threw his head back, and the deep rumble attracted the attention of the young woman sitting behind the receiving desk. As she looked up, he put his arm around Cait’s waist and led her over.

“Hey, Jennifer, I’m here to pick up the backstage pass for my friend here.”

“Jennifer” focused on Cait, and yeah, wow, time to take a step back. Talk about an unwelcome mat—the receptionist or office manager or whoever she was clearly did not appreciate some part of this. Like maybe that whole arm/waist thing?

“I don’t have the credentials,” Miss Thang snapped. “I gave ’em to Erik.”

G.B. cleared his throat and moved in front of Cait, as if he were attempting to shield her from those death rays. “Do you know where he is?”

“He left for the day.”

There was a beat of silence. Then G.B. turned around. “Cait, I’m so sorry, could you excuse me for a minute?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely. But please—don’t worry about me. We can just meet up afterward?”

G.B. shook his head and took her back through the door. In a quiet voice, he said, “Give me a sec to deal with this.”

As he disappeared back inside, Cait pivoted away so that she wasn’t eavesdropping—except although that meant she couldn’t see them, it didn’t do a thing to drown out the rising voice of that woman as it promptly got higher. Louder. More shrill.

And the arguing went on forever.

From time to time, someone would walk by and she’d give them an awkward smile—even though they were never looking at her. Nope, they were craning for a peek into that office, seeing what sure as hell sounded like a grudge match—at least on the girl’s side. G.B., when he was able to get a word in edgewise, kept things much, much quieter and more reasonable.

It was impossible not to get the gist. G.B. had taken the girl out and that had led to certain expectations on her part. When those hadn’t been met, as evidenced by G.B. showing up on a date, looking for the backstage pass? Cue the drama.

When he finally emerged, he helped the door ease shut behind him, and nodded in the direction they’d come from. “Ah, listen, can we…”

Considering Cait could feel the woman’s stare all the way out here in the corridor? “Sure, absolutely.”