Melt With You: Fated, Book 4 (4 page)

 
     
Amusing considering they were in the
middle of a raucous bar on a Monday night.

 
     
“What are you thinking?”

 
     
“I’m thinking that maybe Wes the player
doesn’t want to be a player with you.”

 
     
“Please.”
Lanie
waved a dismissive hand. “I met him once and I won’t deny it, there were sparks.
You tell me about his reputation and I don’t know
,
it
put weird thoughts in my head. I-can-be-a-conquering-crazy-little-ho-type
thoughts and I never think that way.”

 
     
“Right, so you throw yourself at him and
he leaves you high and dry.”

 
     
“High but not really dry,”
Lanie
said, schooling her expression to utter seriousness.

       
They
remained silent for about two seconds before they both dissolved into a fit of
giggles.

 
     
Damn tequila.

 
     
“Okay, great, so he’s an excellent kisser.
Score one point for Wes.” Aimee pointed a finger at her. “But why did he say
that to you? Why did he leave you? Any other chick, he would’ve jumped her.”

 
     
Lanie
frowned. “Maybe
he thought I was a terrible kisser and hustled out of there before he had to
endure any more of it.”

 
     
“Oh stop it, would you?” Aimee drained her
glass then held it up, shaking it so the ice rattled. “Another round please?”
she called to the waitress who nodded and smiled in response.

 
     
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

 
     
“Listen, you’re the one who started the
loose lips thing once you got a drink in you. Maybe you’ll confess more.” Aimee
grinned.

 
     
“That’s all I’ve got.” She didn’t even
want to go into
the my
-thoughts-are-constantly-full-of-Wes
admission. It was bad enough she had shared what happened in the closet. “I
should pretend it never happened, huh?”

 
     
“
Nooo
.
No way. You need to seek him out. Ask him what the hell.” Aimee pounded the
table with her fist, causing their empty glasses to shake.
“Men.
They act like weird little babies sometimes, I swear.”

 
     
“Ask him what the hell—what? How am I
supposed to approach him?” Nerves beat at her stomach like a million little
tiny fists. She couldn’t go up to Wes at work, tap him on that impossibly
broad, impossibly hard as a rock shoulder and ask him what gives. He’d probably
barely look her way then completely ignore her.

 
     
No way would she walk into that sort of
humiliation. The closet incident was bad enough.

 
     
“Flirt with him, say you want to have sex
with him, give him a blow job, whatever.” Aimee was on a roll now—and more than
just a little drunk. “Then dump him.

 
     
Like get his jeans down around his knees
then leave him hard and hurting.
Oh, yeah.”
Aimee
collapsed into uncontrollable laughter, and
Lanie
could only shake her head. Her friend had completely lost it. She was being so
silly they were drawing the attention of other people in the bar.

 
     
Including the attention of a group of guys
they worked with.

 
     
And in that group stood…

 
     
Oh, Lord it couldn’t be. But it was.

 
     
Wes was staring at her with those intense
green eyes, clutching a bottle of beer in his firm grip. He kept his gaze
locked on hers as he brought the bottle to his mouth and took a healthy swig.

 
     
A cold sweat broke out all over her skin,
and she visibly shivered. He noticed
,
she saw the arch
of his dark brows, the way his lips parted. They were damp, probably from the
beer and she had the sudden and inexplicable urge to run over to him and lick
them.

 
     
Taste him.

 
     
“He’s here,” she squeaked.

 
     
Aimee stopped laughing.
“Who?”

       
“Wes,”
Lanie
hissed, tearing her gaze from his to glare at
Aimee. “We need to leave.”

 
     
“We’re so not leaving.” Aimee rubbed her
hands together gleefully. “Go over there right now and talk to him. Do it like
we planned.”

 
     
“No way.”
Lanie
shook her head.

 
     
“Do it!” Aimee shoved her, practically
sending her stumbling out of the curved booth seat.

 
     
“
Ow
.”
Lanie
rubbed her arm, smiling weakly at the approaching
waitress who brought their drinks.

 
     
“Yummy.” Aimee grabbed her drink and
sipped from it. “This must be my last one. I think I’m tipsy.”

 
     
“More than tipsy.”

 
     
“Whatever. Now go over there. Flirt with
him. Whisper naughty words in his
ear,
get those sexy
jeans down around his ankles and then leave him in the lurch. He deserves it.”

 
     
The more
Lanie
thought about his jeans bunched at his ankles and his cock between her lips,
the better the idea sounded. God, she had issues. Serious, strange, out of
control issues that she never even knew existed.

 
     
She grabbed her drink and drained half of
it before she set it back on the table. As if in a trance, she stood,
straightening her shoulders, pushing the hair out of her face before she
started over to where Wes stood. She could hear Aimee hooting and hollering,
but she ignored her.

       
Lanie
ignored everyone and everything until all she saw was
Wes.

 
     
 
She
headed toward him, a defiant lift to
her chin and a sexy glimmer in her eyes that had his entire body stiffening
with need, particularly below the belt. He’d been perfectly happy enjoying the
Monday night football game, drinking a couple of beers and munching on
appetizers, talking stats and which teams had the potential to go into the
playoffs. Evan was there, too, making a rare appearance since the dude was all
about spending time with his woman lately.

 
     
Wes was starting to get it—sort of. Ever
since that moment in the closet,
she
was all he could think about. The soft, sweet taste of her, the dip of her
waist, the way she pressed against him in the dark, tiny closet, the sexy
little sounds she made…

 
     
He’d walked away from her like a damn
fool. But all that talk about bad boys and wanting had rubbed him wrong. Was
that what he was reduced to amongst his coworkers? Just some idiot who’ll fuck
anything with tits, even in a supply closet at the goddamn hospital?

 
     
That’s why he’d walked away. Oh, he was a
sensitive little pansy and he wanted to kick his own ass for even thinking like
this but he’d had his precious little feelers hurt.

 
     
That night, lying in his cold, empty bed,
thinking of the warm, willing woman he could’ve had in it, left him filled with
regret.

 
     
He’d avoided her at work, not that it had
been hard—he’d been so busy. No way could he avoid her, not with her coming
right at him, her stride determined, her pale blue eyes full of fire. He
disentangled himself from the group, needing a little distance.

       
“Hi.”
She stopped in front of him and rested her hands on her hips.

 
     
Hips he wanted to grip and yank her body
against his…

 
     
“Hey.” Fuck it all. He had no idea what to
say next. He was an idiot.

 
     
“Funny running into you
here.”
She smiled and flicked her hair over her shoulder, thrusting her
chest out toward him. Quintessential flirtatious behavior and he reacted like
the dog he was, his gaze dropping to her breasts. From what he could tell she
had a spectacular rack.

 
     
Not that he cared only for her rack, oh
no. She was sassy. She was smart. She was calm under pressure, and she tasted
sweeter than any dessert he’d ever indulged in.

 
     
“I was thinking the same thing,” he
finally said, his gaze lifting to meet hers once more.

 
     
She smiled, amusement dancing in her eyes.
She knew what sort of effect she had on him. God, he loved a confident woman. “Enjoying
the football game?”

 
     
“Honestly? It’s kind of boring.” He was a
liar. The game had been intense. They were at the start of the third quarter
and it was tied up.

 
     
“Really?”
She
smirked. “Maybe we could hang out then. Kill a little time.” Kill a little
time? He’d never been propositioned with that line before.
“Works
for me.”

 
     
God he was easy.

 
     
“Let’s go.” She flicked a finger toward
the door, and he followed.

 
     
Like an obedient little puppy.

 
     
She led him outside to the patio area,
which was usually packed with people during the spring and summer.

 
     
But tonight the wind blew and clouds hung
low, dark and foreboding, obliterating any chance to see stars twinkling in the
black velvet sky. It was cold but he had a long sleeved T-shirt on and an
opened flannel shirt over it. She was dressed accordingly as well, if her
pretty charcoal sweater was any indication.

 
     
God, he loved a woman in a sweater too.
Tonight the woman could do no wrong in his eyes.

 
     
He was a complete sucker.

 
     
“Are you going to stand over there all
night or come closer?”
Lanie’s
sultry voice carried
on the wind, and he watched as she settled her pert little ass on one of the
wrought iron benches against the wall. She shivered, probably from making
contact with the cold metal.

 
     
“Your wish is my command.” With a salute
he went to the bench, settling beside her, their bodies smashed close together.

 
     
A soft little huff of laughter left her
when he slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I didn’t think it would be this
easy.”

       
“What
would be this easy?”

 
     
“Talking to you.”
She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. Again, she was very direct, with no
bullshit apparent. He found that characteristic arousing as well. “I haven’t
seen you since the night in the closet. I thought you hated me.” He chuckled. “The
very last thing I feel for you is hate.”

 
     
“Oh really?
What
do you feel for me then?”

 
     
Unadulterated, instant
attraction?
Uncontrollable lust?
His dick
stirred, having her so close, and he knew it wouldn’t take much to send him
into a full-fledged hard on.

 
     
Just smelling her sweet, unique scent had
him close enough to the edge as it was.

 
     
“I like you,” he admitted. The moment the
simple words fell from his lips, he realized they didn’t even come close to
encompassing exactly what he thought of her.

 
     
What he felt for her.

 
     
She smiled, reached out and drew her
finger down his cheek. “I like you too.” The wind howled, as if in protest and
she leaned in closer, her tequila-tinged breath wafting across his lips. He had
a feeling she was a little buzzed, but he didn’t care.