Third Date (13 page)

Chuckling, I dug my fingers into my hair. “Perfected... No. Impulsive, definitely.”

Nudging her elbow into my ribs, Kinsley leaned in close. “Impulsive isn't the right word, I'd definitely call it all perfection.” Reaching for the handle, she pushed the door open. “Let's go, Cowboy, it's time for me to get my toes wet.”

Wet, I'll get you wet.

I can get you so wet you'll drip.

Had she been thinking about our night together too?

She had to be. How could that be forgotten?

It was the most amazing night of my life, and I didn't want it to end. My heart stumbled through irregular beats, reliving every touch in quick bursts.

Trailing behind her, her ass rocked and jiggled as her feet hit the pavement. The muscles in her calves flexed under the heels, thighs clenching as she watched the placement of her feet.

“What are you looking at?”

“The ground, it doesn't always like me. You saw that earlier, walking can be dangerous.” Smiling, Kinsley picked at her fingers.

Taking a few long steps, I brought myself right to her side. Grabbing her hand, I slipped it around my forearm. “There, safety first.”

Her delicate fingers squeezed my arm, holding tightly. And I was happier in that moment than I had been in days. We were close, our bodies pressing into each other, each step closing the gap between us.

And I couldn't ignore the sick feeling of sending her into the arms of another man. A carnal need to scoop her up and whisk her away, careened around my skull. The image sat on my head like molasses, tugging her firmer into my ribs.

Never wanting to let her go.

I wasn't sure how long I was going to be able to keep those feelings at bay. The danger of what my body reeled with, and mind was spinning with, had started to burn permanently into my brain.

Kinsley was my woman.

And she was right where she belonged, on my arm.

Kinsley

A
nother club, another date, another night I was probably going to regret.

Not one single part of me wanted to do this for a second time. I knew deep down I had found the man that made me feel complete again.

Layne.

Everything about him made me tingle. One tiny thought of him was like a train wreck, and it was all over. My brain would turn into hot soup, revisiting our night. He touched me like he knew my body from the start.

Either that was pure attraction, or he was extremely skilled.

The club was packed, a hazy glow floated around the room like low fog. People were scattered around, dancing, laughing, clinking glasses high. But the energy did nothing to peel the dread of a date off my shoulders.

Another date, another chance to embarrass myself... And Layne set in the background watching.

Walking in, I was so close to him the scent of steel hit my nose, pulling on me harder. My hand was in his arm, and I wasn't ready to let go.

I didn't want to let go.

Deep down, I had wished the whole ride that this so called 'date' wouldn't show up. I was begging the driving force to let me get stood up. I had no interest in doing anything except stare at the man I truly wanted.

He asked me to make room in my heart, what he didn't realize was he held the key to the door.

Layne scanned the room, placing his hand over mine. Leaning in, his lips hovered above the shell of my ear. “He's here, are you ready?” His words washed my face, spreading like hot fire over my spine.

Shivering softly, I glanced up. “Do you want me to be honest, or just tell you what you want to hear?”

“Honest.” Layne's eyes hardened, reading my thoughts. But I didn't think he really knew what was going through my head.

Yes, I was nervous. And that's what he saw.

What he couldn't see was why. I wasn't nervous to meet another guy, I could have given a shit less about that.

I was nervous because my fingertips surged with electricity as I touched his arm. I was nervous because his lips had just been so close to my ear, I felt his words.

I was nervous because he smelled so good, and looked so damn sexy in his blazer, I wanted to yank him back to the car and take him in the small backseat.

He was everything I felt right in that moment, and I knew he couldn't see it.

Layne's fingers circled the nub on my wrist, brows reaching into his hairline. “You're going to do fine.”

“Yeah, fingers crossed.” I joked, raising my hand and braiding my fingers together.

“I'll be right over there if you need anything. Okay?” His hand stayed static on mine, holding tighter instead of letting go.

Nodding, I gripped tighter too. “Which one is Flynn?”

A long pause sat between us, Layne's eyes stretching deep into mine. His lips twitched, before he finally spoke. “He's at the table by the bar, scruffy beard, green shirt.”

There was something else in his gaze, like another thought had swept his mind. I was tempted to ask, but I let his thought disappear behind his lids as they washed it away. Blinking, I didn't look over my shoulder. “Face pubes, and barf shirt... Got it.”

Laughing, his fingers came up and brushed the hair off my face. “Go have fun, that's why you're here.” Cupping my cheek, his hand moved smoothly across my skin. “Because if you don't, I'm not doing my job.” The pad of his thumb hooked my jaw, fingers pressing the back of my neck.

Why couldn't he see what flew between us?

He didn't touch me like a friend, he didn't touch me like he was trying to reassure me. No, his touch was soft and delicate, it was filled with so much more than any touch should have unless it meant something.

His thumb on my jaw made me tremble, his fingers sent the hair on my neck into a standstill. The way his eyes bore deep into mine, and flashed with feeling, emotion...

Layne was denying the charge that crossed his skin, and I wasn't going to let him ignore it forever.

“You've already done your job, now you just need to see it.” Cocking my head, I smiled, and walked over to date number two.

I bet he could read my mind now.

Reaching the tall bar table, I held my hand out, and said, “It's nice to meet you, Flynn.”

When Layne said he was a bit rough, he definitely meant it. Shaking his hand felt like I was grabbing coarse sandpaper, his jaw was covered in wild, curly black hair, and his shirt looked like it was the one he wore to work that day.

Slouching into his chair, Flynn tipped back a bottle of booze. “Same here, Kinsley. Man, Layne said you were pretty, but he left out how drop dead gorgeous you are.”

Sitting down, I noticed the skin of his hands were stained brown, covered in deep cracks and raised callouses. Scuffed up and dirty work boots still dressed his feet, and the jeans...

Stone wash was definitely not flattering on Flynn at all.

Is this a serious date?

I wanted to try and give this guy a fair shot. If he was supposed to be a real match for me, I wanted to at least put some effort into it.

Especially if I couldn't have what I really wanted. Even though what I wanted was right there, a few feet away, and still untouchable.

Flynn teased his beard, gently stretching the curly hair. His lips split wide as he took a long sip of his drink. “You want a drink?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Setting my hands down on the wood top, I clasped them together tightly.

Flynn waved his hand to the bartender, signaling him over. “This pretty lady would like a drink, anything she wants, just put it on my tab.” Winking, his hand fell onto the table, stretching closer to mine.

“Thanks, Flynn,” I said nervously, using the moment to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear, and place my hand as far away from his as I could.

Trying to make small conversation, I asked him a few questions about his work, and his son. “Wait... So your son really thinks that he can run like Sonic?”

“Only when he's wearing his red water shoes. The kid even runs in place for a few seconds before he shoots off down the hall, or around the yard. It's hilarious.” Chuckling, Flynn reached into his back pocket, removing his wallet. “This is him, his name's Dean.”

“Awe, he's cute. He's got your eyes.”

So far, after two drinks, and a little discussion about our lives, I was starting to warm up to him. He was a really nice guy, not my type... But nice.

I knew my type— Tall, muscular, funny, and his name was Layne.

But at least this date was going far better than my last. No injuries yet, no awkward conversation, and spills. If I really thought about it, this was probably the best date I had ever been on.

The disaster meter was still at zero. All I had to do was keep it that way.

“Do you want to dance?” Flynn asked, twirling a thumb over his jaw.

Flashing a glance over my shoulder, Layne was staring us down with black eyes. His face was completely blank, gaze empty and distant.

The amber glow I had gotten used to had turned a solid charcoal, his eyes hunting down the man across from me. I smiled at him, but he didn't smile back. He remained stone still, expressionless.

Why does he look so pissed?

He's the one who brought me here.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he looked jealous.

Stop being silly. The last thing he would be is jealous. He made it clear that he had a job, and no interest in dating himself.

Staring at him, I wanted some sort of reaction. A head nod, a little smirk, anything to let me know how I was doing.

But I got nothing.

As I was making the strangest facial expressions I could to break him from his mindless state, a woman slithered up to his side. Her hand slid across his shoulder, her ass cheeks hanging just below the hem of her dress. If you could even call it a dress, it looked more like a junior's size shirt that she tugged below her waistline.

Chatting way too close into his ear, her hand inched even closer towards his chest. A jealous rain came down and soaked my body, coating my back in hot sparks. The image burned into my brain, and I wanted to cut it out.

He warned you. This is work.

You are just a job to him.

My eyes began to well, the realization of how stupid and ridiculous I had been about my feelings for him, came up and smacked in me the face.

“Yeah, let's dance,” I said into the crowd that passed behind me. Standing up, I still watched Layne, his face hidden behind the well carved backside of some woman.

I wished I could have just made the jealous feelings invading my body disappear, but it wasn't that easy. He had been thrown into my life, placed here without my approval, and now I couldn't get him out of my fucking head. 

Flynn crept up close behind me, arm wrapping my waist. His hips gyrated into my ass, swirling and bumping.

Cringing inside my head, I wanted to keep as much distance between us that I could. Spinning around, I stepped back, rocking my curves. Flynn tried to grip my wrist and tug me in, but I spun off, digging my hands into my hair.

I was trying to watch Layne, and maybe... Trying to get his attention back on me.

Sweat started to trickle over my neck, chilling my spine. My body swayed and rolled, dipping and grinding the air. Opening my eyes, the woman had taken a seat beside Layne.

Instantly my chest felt tighter, ribs hurting and aching deep around my heart. And no matter how much I tried to focus on the date Layne had placed before me, I was completely fixated on the mysterious woman at his side.

Dragging my fingers up my sides, Flynn's body pressed against my back. I could feel him there like a thick sludge, each twist embedding his hands firmer around my stomach.

His beard itched across my neck, my muscles convulsing to get further from him. I thought he was a nice guy, but that didn't mean I was ready to be man handled. Each pulse of his hips made his fingers jump and tease the edge of my breast.

Unfurling his grip, I turned to face him. “Can we dance with a little less touching? I'm sorry, I just don't know you well enough.” Making sure my words were delicate, but leaving no misinterpretation.

“It's just dancing, don't worry.” His palms came out flat, arms resting in the air.

Nodding, I let the music guide my rhythm. Not that there was much groove in these feet. I made every effort to look sexy, alluring, irresistible to the admirer I longed for.

But in reality, I knew I looked like a woman who had just stuck her finger in an electric socket. The many eyes of the people around us made that clear, I was pretty sure there were even a few pointing and laughing.

Dancing was never a strong point for me, my dad always said I was born with two left feet. And a few times when I was little, I even looked to see if he was right.

But that didn't stop me from trying. Right then I was just about willing to do anything to get Layne's eyes back on me and off the bar troll.

Taking my eyes off Flynn for a brief moment, I felt his hands find their way back to my ribs, creeping up and trying to slip over my breasts.

Slapping them away, I cocked my head over my shoulder. “I thought I made myself clear?” 

“Come on, you know you want this.” His hands came up harder this time, attempting to grope my chest without any cheap maneuver. An animalistic grunt hit his throat, turning him from human into ape.

“Stop it!” I yelled, my brows dipping angrily.

“What?” He snapped, curling his hands around my back. “I'm just doing what you want, don't try and pretend you don't like this.” His face jerked down, lips trying to find my skin.

The music was ear-deafening loud, thumping through my skull. The room seemed to shrink, casting us in shadows. Shadows that looked lifeless, blackness that felt like my world was ending for a second time.

I wasn't going to give into this man, I wasn't going to just let him have what I had clearly refused. Throwing my elbow up, I connected with his mouth. A loud yelp of pain cast down on me, the heaviness of his weight seemed to shift, making a small gap between his chest and my body.

And when I thought I had created a second of freedom, his fingers trapped my waist. The look of determination to take what he was demanding had shined through his glass coated pupils.