Never to Keep (Accepting Fate #1) (3 page)

“No.”

“What kind of guy turns down a free fuck?” she asked, clearly befuddled by the notion.

“I have standards that you could never meet, not to mention I would never betray my brother.” I had to get out of there before all of the ugly in the room made my eyes bleed. “Now get your skanky ass away from me before I tell Finn about your offer.”

“He didn’t believe you before. What makes you think he’ll believe you this time? I have him wrapped around my little finger.”

“I can’t wait until he wakes up and realizes he’s married to the devil,” I spat as I retreated from the room.

“By then it will be way too late,” she cackled.

I had never seriously considered committing homicide until that moment.

Sawyer

“What’s on tap?” I asked as I mounted one of the padded counter-height stools in front of the granite bar. The hotel in the heart of Indianapolis was the most expensive in the area. Kristy wouldn’t agree to hold the reception anywhere else. I selected a mid-range brand from the list the bartender handed me and passed him some cash.

I doubt Finn even realized I’d ditched the reception in favor of getting wasted at the bar just off of the main lobby. I couldn’t get out of that stifling tuxedo and hideous tie quickly enough. I gave the barkeep a nod of thanks as he placed the frosted mug on a coaster in front of me.

I nursed my beer and thought about my conversation with Thomas at the church. Maybe I was being too picky; surely one of Kristy’s disciples would have been decent enough to at least blow me.

“I’ll have a shot of Jack and a pint of Miller, please.” The melodic voice to my right immediately captured my full attention. I nearly forgot how to blink when I looked up from my drink. A gorgeous woman in a fitted black dress and matching stilettos carefully took a seat at the bar. Her outfit would have clashed in most sports bars, but like everything else in the hotel, the bar was sophisticated enough for her to blend in.

I fought the urge to move over two seats and eliminate the distance between us. “Genuine Draft, not Lite,” she corrected as the bartender reached for the wrong handle.

Her cherry red lips and soulful brown eyes were striking against her ivory complexion. Her bare arms were well-defined, and she had voluptuous curves in all the right places. This woman definitely did not need to drink light beer.

I envisioned releasing her sleek, dark hair from the tight knot that rested just above the slender column of her neck. I wondered what it would feel like to sink into the heat between her soft thighs.

The startling direction of my thoughts pulled me back to the present. I shook the vivid images from my mind and forced myself to look away. I turned down offers all the time, yet a few innocent words from a stranger’s luscious mouth made me forget every misgiving I had about the opposite sex. When I looked at her, I saw perfection, not a walking disease or eighteen years of manipulation.

The tight smile she gave the bartender in exchange for her drinks didn’t sit well on her beautiful face. Her dark gaze briefly met mine when she sensed my stare. I felt the loss when she diverted her eyes back to the pair of drinks in front of her. I watched with pure astonishment as she threw back the shot of whiskey without the slightest flinch.

“Keep ’em coming,” she muttered to the bartender after she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Rough day?” I asked as she downed a second shot.

“You could say that,” she answered as she slammed the glass on the counter. She turned her attention to her beer and absently swirled a fingertip through the froth. I held my breath as I followed the smooth motion with my eyes. I worried that I might burst through the zipper of my now painfully tight pants as she brought the beautiful finger to her mouth and sucked it clean.

I was done playing it safe—I had to get her in my bed. I’d never actively pursued a woman. After my face had cleared up and I grew into my body, I had to perfect techniques to get rid of the superficial bitches that flocked to me. Unfortunately, that meant I had no idea how to chase after someone. She’d probably heard every line in the book, not that I had many in my repertoire. A conversation about the weather wouldn’t get me anywhere near her panties.

I caught a break when she asked the bartender to change the channel to a preseason football game. A spark of light came to her eyes as she focused on the plasma screen hanging on the wall in front of me. She moved closer to the television, leaving only one stool between us. “Who’s your favorite team?” I asked.

She startled, as if she’d forgotten I was there. She didn’t take her eyes from the screen as she spoke. “Indianapolis, of course,” she said and pointed to the banner hanging on the wall behind the bar. “Well, they were until they cut all of my favorite players, so, now, I’m playing the field a little.” She took a sip of her beer before continuing, “I’ll forgive them someday. They’re my home team, so I can’t stay mad at them forever.” The cadence of her words intoxicated me. I could listen to her speak for hours. She watched the game in silence for a few minutes before asking, “You?”

“New England.” I regretted my answer before the second word passed my lips. Her face scrunched in disgust, and she dramatically leaned away from me as if I had a contagious disease.

“Are you from New England?” she asked.

“No,” I admitted.

“Sorry, I don’t associate with New England fans unless it’s their home team. I think rooting for a team with their record is lazy.” She took a swig of beer. “I mean, what does it say about a person who roots for a team that usually wins? The risk of defeat, or the possibility of an unexpected victory, is what makes the game exciting.” The challenge in her narrowed eyes as she gave me a sideways glance was a welcome relief from the sadness that had weighed on her face a few minutes earlier.

“You’re one to talk about being a fair-weather fan. You’re cheating on your team after a less-than-stellar season.”

“Touché; however, I’m not divorcing them. I’m cheating on them because I’m angry, not because I stopped loving them or because of their inability to satisfy my needs.” The warm smile fell from her face as she neared the end of her rebuttal. The television drew her gaze away from me. I wondered if she was intentionally avoiding eye contact or if she was really
that
enthralled with a luxury car commercial.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I was lying? My home team sucks ass, and I didn’t want your pity,” I said. The corners of her mouth lifted at my embarrassment. She didn’t have an agenda and didn’t give a damn about impressing me.

“Hmm.” I was insanely jealous of the finger she tapped on her pursed lips. “You’re definitely a liar because you could be lying about lying, and possibly a New England fan. I’m not quite sure what to think of that. I’m also not sure which is worse.” Her eyes darted briefly my way. I was relieved to see humor soften her features. “If you were lying, why wouldn’t you just agree with me? Everyone in town is wearing a blue and white jersey, so it would’ve been believable.”

“It would’ve been a hard sell because I know very little about them. I’m not from here,” I answered honestly.

She nodded in response and took another sip of her beer as she refocused on the television. “Where are you from?” The white in the corner of her eye was briefly replaced by chocolate brown as she spared me a glance.

“California,” I said hesitantly and pointed at the television that showed her team kicking my team’s ass.

“Oh, in that case, you’re forgiven. Even
I
might’ve been tempted to lie about that.” Her crooked grin was adorable, as was the way she poked fun at me.

“Are you saying you never lie?”

“‘Never’ is a strong word. Nothing in this world is absolute or guaranteed.” She took a shaky breath as she straightened her features.

I could see she was teetering on the edge of something painful, so I decided to change the subject. “Did you grow up here? I’ve never heard anyone speak with such a beautiful cadence.”

“
Mi madre es de España
.”

“I’m sorry; my Spanish is a little rusty.” I cursed my foolish decision to take French in high school and college.

“My mother is from Spain. She speaks very quickly and refused to speak to us in English until I was five. It must be an artifact from that,” she said with exaggerated inflection. I wondered if her dark hair and eyes were gifts from her Mediterranean mother. “It was confusing. We had to speak Spanish to Mom and English to Dad. Sometimes we got mixed up and used words from both languages in the same sentence.”

She continued to watch the game while I watched her. She cheered for her team and laughed at the stupid mistakes of my team. She didn’t care who watched her or how silly she might look when she did her touchdown dance. She really was perfect.

Near the end of the first half, her team executed a highly entertaining trick play. She laughed to the point of tears. “You would’ve loved that,” she said on a sigh with a slight hitch in her voice. I knew she wasn’t talking to me.

“Can I buy you a drink?” A young punk approached her from the other side. Well, he was probably my age and was wearing a suit, but I didn’t like the way he looked at her. He seemed vaguely familiar; he might have been a guest at Finn’s wedding.

She looked him up and down before replying, “I already have one,” she held up her beer to show him, “but thanks anyway.” Immense relief coursed through me.

“I was thinking I could buy you a drink from the minibar in my room.” I could tell the asshole wouldn’t back down from the challenge easily. Maybe he was related to Kristy.

Her jaw clenched as she responded, “Sorry, not interested.” She nearly fell onto the stool between us when she jerked away from the douchebag’s extended hand.

I jumped from my seat and wedged myself between them, shielding her with my body. “She said she wasn’t interested. I suggest you leave her the fuck alone!” It would have felt damn good to slam my fist into his puny jaw. He looked at the clenched fists by my sides and the strain of my expression. He held up both hands and slowly backed away.

I turned around and rested my hands on her smooth shoulders. “Are you okay?” She didn’t seem fazed at all. She shrugged out of my grasp and turned her attention back to the television.

“I could have handled him, but thanks nonetheless.” The corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “It’s been a while since someone defended my honor.” Her voice was distant. I didn’t like it.

“What’s wrong? Did he hurt you?”

“No, guys like him are all talk.” She was probably used to unwanted attention; she could be a freaking supermodel. That thought reminded me of what Thomas had said earlier—three-and-out for supermodels. She crossed her mile-long legs and glanced around the room. “I should be safe, since you’ve put the fear of God in everyone.” I hoped I’d imagined the hint of frustration in her voice.

A ball of fire formed in the pit of my stomach as I scanned the room. Every guy in the place was staring at her. The thought she might take one of them to her room tonight turned the smoldering embers into a blazing inferno.

I sat down beside her instead of going back to my original spot. “Why are you drinking alone? It’s not safe.” I really wanted to tell her that picking up a strange man in a bar wasn’t safe, but stopped because I fell into that category from her perspective.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“It’s different for me. I’m a guy.” That got her attention. She turned to me with narrow eyes.

“So, you’re saying I shouldn’t drink alone in a perfectly safe hotel bar because I don’t have a penis?” I didn’t think it possible, but she was even hotter when she was riled up.

“What I’m saying is you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Most straight men would be driven to insanity from being in the same room as you. There’s no telling what they would do to you if you showed the slightest bit of interest.”

“You still have your sanity; does that mean you aren’t straight?” Her lips curled into a sarcastic grin.

“I said
most
straight men. Trust me; I’m teetering on the edge of sanity.”

She looked around the room again. “Maybe I came here to find a man to ‘do things’ to me.” Her words just about did me in.

“Look no further.” I took her hand and guided it to the tent in my pants to show her exactly whom she should choose. I nearly exploded when her gentle fingers made contact. My excitement diminished when she abruptly jerked away.

What was I thinking?
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that. Please, don’t—” She firmly pressed a finger against my lips. Heat grew in her eyes, which assured me she wasn’t offended. I bit the inside of my lips together to keep from licking her.

She looked at me as if she was truly considering me for the first time. “Do you have a room here?” she asked. I nodded slowly in response while doing a victory dance in my head. “Do you want to fuck me?” Damn, she was forward, and I loved it. I knew next to nothing about her, but I was absolutely certain I would be inside of her tonight, hopefully more than once. I nodded again as I tried not to finish in my pants. “Let’s go.”

She lowered her finger from my lips and downed her last shot. She grabbed my hand, and led me toward the bank of elevators.

I expected an awkward ride to the tenth floor, but it turned out to be incredibly arousing. The tension between us made the anticipation of things to come even stronger. Our eyes stayed locked on each other from across the mirrored car; the elderly woman standing between us was oblivious to the heat radiating from our bodies.

My beautiful stranger stepped closer to me after the only other passenger exited on the mezzanine level. “Let’s cut to the chase.” She ran her fingers up the length of my fly. “You’re already hard, and I’m already wet.” She maintained eye contact as she reached under the hem of her dress and slowly slid her panties down her long legs. “I’m not interested in teasing or foreplay. I need to be fucked. Hard.” She moved even closer to me. “Does that work for you?” she asked as she tucked the small scrap of lace into the front pocket of my jeans. I held my breath as her eager fingers lingered a little longer than necessary.