Going All the Way (Knights of Passion Book 1) (3 page)

She met his
gaze and flicked a couple of buttons open, displaying more than a little cleavage. Whoa. What a look, sex and sin all rolled into one hot stare. The room temperature rose several degrees. “Yum,” she murmured, not intending anyone to overhear, but she should have known Sophie, her conscience, heard everything.

“Yum, the drink or yum something else?” Sophie followed Stacia’s gaze to the back of bar.

“Yum. Tall, dark and, most importantly, not my regular type.”

“What are you doing, Stace?” Sophie groaned. “I know I said to open up a little. But this?”

“It’s time for this good girl to cut loose. Just once, I don’t want to make decisions. Just one night. I know we talk about a one-night stand all the time, but tonight, it’s my night.”

A man next to her swiveled on his stool to look at her through bleary eyes, not too drunk to miss her declaration. Clearly, he had been here awhile, judging by the slight sway in his posture and the shake in his hand bringing the beer to his mouth. He grinned, the typical drunken how-you-doin’ pick up grin and opened his mouth.

“I’ll stop you right there, Randy,” Stacia interjected, not willing to patronize the local drunk. “We’ve been over this. Not interested. I’m flattered, but no thanks. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”

He shrugged and turned to the woman on the other side, who swayed almost as much as he did, but seemed flattered at the attention.

“Okay, that’s it. You’re cut off.” Sophie snatched the glass away from the bartender before he could set it down then moved it out of reach. “A one-night stand is the last thing you need. As of seven o’clock tonight, you’re unemployed, remember?”

“Not unemployed. Just no assignment. You’ve been suggesting this for years. I wasn’t ready back then.” Stacia grabbed the glass and took a healthy swallow. It was time she took control of her life, if only for one anonymous night.

“Now you are?” Sophie frowned, looked more like a headmistress at a girls’ school than her best friend. “I meant to start with some flirting, some conversation. Not tonight. Impulsive isn’t who you are.”

“Maybe it should be.” Stacia continued to study the man in the dark corner, heat building deep in her belly, anticipation growing, along with a reckless excitement.

“Maybe it’s the four Southern Comfort sours talking,” Sophie insisted, her words growing more strident.

“Does it matter?” She leaned forward slightly, displaying more than a little cleavage, exposing a hint of lace.

“You’re not really considering this are you? Crap, you are.” Sophie grabbed Stacia’s shoulders and turned her around. “This is the alcohol talking. You’ll regret this in the morning on top of your already crappy day.”

“He looks lonely. Maybe he could use some Southern comfort.” Stacia glanced over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on the corner booth. She slipped off the stool, and straightened her clothes, opening her blouse to hint at the cleavage exposed. A moment of nerves had her pausing. This was completely out of her comfort zone. What if he laughed at her? What if he wasn’t even looking at her? What if he took her up on her offer?

She fiddled with the buttons again, uncertainty holding her back. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re looking for sex.” Sophie smiled then smacked herself. “Not what I should be saying right now. This is still a bad idea, Stace.”

“Perfect. Wish me luck.” Stacia grabbed the drink from the bar and walked toward the back booth, hips swaying in what she hoped was a provocative manner. His stare was bold and he assessed her frankly. A feral smile crossed his lips, promising wicked fun and plenty of orgasms, if she wasn’t burned by the heat. Her steps faltered and her mouth dried. She took another sip of her drink to steady her nerves.

“Wait. Right now? How about something to eat, or another drink?” Sophie called after her, and then muttered, “Like she needs more alcohol in her system. Wait for me!”

Stacia ignored her friend, drawn by the magnetism in the stranger, all doubts erased by the promise in his gaze.

J
ason leaned back
in the booth and sipped his scotch, as the woman from the bar made a path for him. The woman was pretty enough, a killer body revealed by skin tight jeans, thick wavy auburn hair that had caught his attention earlier, and sexy green eyes laser focused on him. A few seconds later, she stood next to the booth, a hint of challenge in the tilt of her chin.

“Anyone sitting here?”

He obligingly slid further into the booth and gestured next to him. “You are, darling.”

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she almost purred.

“You came over to me, darling. So I’m thinking things are looking up.”

She pressed her leg against him, heat burning through the denim, reminding him of his year-long celibacy. His cock stirred, awakening a hunger deep inside. A slow, sensual burn spread from his groin in anticipation of the possibilities ahead. The perfect recreation before signing his fucking degrading contract tomorrow, selling his life, his career, and his soul. But for this one last night, he could do what he wanted.

A blonde woman slid into the booth on his other side, pinning him between the two women, her eyes shooting daggers at him. It had been awhile since he’d had two women, but the way the second one was skewering him with her gaze, he doubted she was on board with a threesome. Stranger things used to happen with groupies. But he wasn’t that guy anymore, at least not after tomorrow. Had to pay the fucking bills and if it meant sacrificing his pride, he’d do it for one last shot.

The first woman frowned at the second, and then pasted on a big smile and held out her hand to him in an oddly formal gesture. “I’m Stacia. And you are?”

Shaking hands. Not your typical beginning to a one-night stand but nothing about this evening was usual. He shook her hand. “Jason. So what’s a gorgeous woman like you doing in a place like this?”

The blonde snorted. “Seriously? Is that your best line?”

“Sophie.” Stacia shot her a warning look. “Ignore her. She’s appointed herself my keeper.”

He leaned back and cocked his head. “Do you
need
a keeper?”

She lowered her eyes and a small smile played about her lips. “No.”

He glanced over at Sophie, her protectiveness palpable. Definitely no threesome tonight. The perverse side of him, and Stacia’s teasing side, brought out a playful attitude. He bent toward Stacia, slipped a hand around her shoulders to toy with the auburn tendrils that had been calling him since he had first seen her. She shivered but leaned into his caress. He stage-whispered in her ear, “Your friend doesn’t seem to agree. So, what are you doing here?”

Her laugh rang out, sending an unfamiliar feeling through him. Happiness?

She ran her fingers lightly up and down his arm, warming his skin. Heat shot straight to his groin. “You mean besides talking to you? Well, I saw you sitting all alone and I thought you might like some company.”

He studied her for a long moment. A warning pushed through the sensual haze, almost as if his agent was sitting on his shoulder, halo, and harp and freaking wings, whispering, “You don’t have a choice. You need this contract. Don’t be stupid.”

He shoved the image away, blocking out the words, needing to do something bad for him before being forced to do something good for everyone. But the caution remained, the memory of past lovers and their media interviews.

What was her angle? She didn’t seem drunk. She didn’t seem to recognize him either. Maybe this situation was exactly as it appeared—a woman, interested in a man, with a slightly psychotic bodyguard. He glanced at Sophie. She hadn’t said much, just sat there, arms folded across her chest, waiting. He decided to play along, the devil considerably lower in his anatomy pushing his advantage. “I always like pretty women for company. What did you have in mind?”

Stacia took a deep breath, an answering heat flaring in her eyes. “Dinner, then we’ll see how things go.”

At that moment, a cell phone rang on his left. Sophie dug through her bag, pulled it out and looked at the screen. “Damn. I have to go.” She glanced between the two of them, suspicion clearly warring with the need to leave, hesitation written in every tense line of her body. She tugged her lower lip and narrowed her eyes. Stacia twisted to see the television set, some politician on the screen. Her eyes clouded for a brief moment, almost too quick to catch, but Sophie also leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed and he knew he hadn’t missed it.

A strong hand gripped his thigh, just above his knee, on his left. He winced as Sophie’s fingers dug into the muscle through the denim. He turned and a flash almost blinded him. “What the hell, lady? What is
wrong
with you?” He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the dots behind his eyes.

Sophie put her mouth next to his ear, speaking low enough for only him to hear. Her Southern accent, that may have sounded sweet to some men, blasted heat at him, and definitely not the sexual kind. “You hurt her, you bastard, and you deal with me.”

He arched his eyebrow at Stacia, then back to Sophie. “She looks old enough to make her own decisions.”

“Not the point, buddy. She’s doesn’t need anyone like you taking advantage of her.”

Stacia swiveled back from the television and frowned. She slipped her hand below the table, then caressed his thigh dangerously close to his crotch. He grinned and put his arm around her. “I think she can handle herself.”

Feeling waves of animosity wafting from Sophie, he saluted with his glass and downed the remainder of the scotch. After so much effort to discourage him, he suddenly wanted to know more about Stacia.

Sophie scowled at him, glanced at her watch and said, “I have to go. Dinner with the parents. You okay?”

Stacia leaned into Jason, laying her head on his shoulder with a big smile. “Just about.”

Her friend snorted. “Remember, I have your picture.” She slid out of the booth, hitting him with her briefcase hard enough to be deliberate, and stomped off, with only one backward glance at Stacia. “Call me tomorrow.”

Stacia sipped her drink. “She’s a little protective.”

“A little? More like a mama bear looking to maul me. Any particular reason why I’m on her hit list, when you came over to me?”

Stacia pulled away from him and reached for the drinks the waitress so thoughtfully replaced. “It’s been a rough week, well, year really. I’ve neglected my social life and I thought it was time we get reacquainted.”

Bingo! She was crazy. That made a lot more sense, more like his usual type of woman. “Is that what tonight is all about?”

“No, I’m just tired of being the good girl, the responsible one. It’s time I cut loose and enjoy life. Other women see what they want and go get it. Why can’t I?”

He nodded, unsurprised. Her response was so typical, it was a stereotype. Good girl wants to go bad just once, cut loose with the bad boy. And he was definitely the bad boy in the script. Normally, he would have cried off, uninterested in being used for a fling. Dealing with the tears and recriminations the next morning from the sweet, innocent flower was a major turn-off. His cock definitely was not interested in walking away from Stacia, no matter what the risk was, or the morning-after tears. He could always leave while she slept.

Deciding to play along with the fantasy, he cocked his head. “And what do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes.

He pulled his arm back and took a deep sip of his scotch. “No offense, darling, but I’m not in the market for a woman right now. My life’s in the crapper and I can’t afford any other complications.”

She frowned, her forehead wrinkling, and she traced the condensation on his glass. “I’m not looking for anything long-term or serious. I just want to have some fun. You’re alone. Looks like you could use a friend. A distraction at least. Here I am!”

He shook his head, charmed by her innocence and dogged determination to seduce him, despite his vow to steer clear. What could one dinner hurt? Besides, she clearly needed someone to watch out for her and who better than someone who’d sworn off women? Maybe this good deed could refill his karma bank, putting him on the credit instead of debit side.

“What the hell. Dinner, Miss Stacia?”

*

Dinner and several
drinks later, Stacia toyed with her lower lip in the elevator at the hotel. Was she having second thoughts? Was he? She caught his eye and her lips curved in a flirtatious smile, eyes lowered as she studied him. The ball was in his court. Was he up for this? She leaned forward and took his lips in a sweet kiss, her hand sweeping his chest to steady herself, then lower to the evidence of his arousal.

“Are you happy to see me or is that your cell phone?”

He grinned and held up that device in his other hand. Game on.

Seconds later, the elevator doors opened with a ding. Stacia stumbled out, her heel catching on the lip of the hotel carpet. Jason’s firm hands steadied her, his strength sending a tingle down her arms. She sucked in a breath at the sudden heat where he gripped her arms. The hallway tilted slightly, whether from anticipation of the night ahead or the Southern Comfort sours she’d consumed prior to dinner to maintain her courage. Right now, she was riding high, no false help needed.