Chloe sat in a darkened hotel bar. After work she had returned home, where she fed, walked, and spent some time playing with Baxter before leaving him in the care of her sister and his favorite doggy cousin, Spike. Her plan now was to slowly drink herself into a fine stupor before stumbling into the room she’d had the good sense to reserve. The thought of how pathetic it was to drink alone briefly crossed her mind, but it was quickly washed away with vodka. Sweet, sweet vodka.
She leaned back against the high leather backing of the booth and replayed the conversation she’d overheard, until it skipped like an overused CD in her head. She had almost convinced herself she had imagined the entire thing. That maybe the conversation had nothing to do with business. But as much as she wished it to be a fantasy, she wasn’t an idiot. She knew there was something wrong. Ryan Dorset had something up his sleeve, and she was going to find out just what it was.
After signaling to the bartender for another cosmo, she stared glumly out the window overlooking the area of Denver known as Lower Downtown, or LoDo.
She shifted her gaze to stare down into her glass as if it were a crystal ball and the answer to her dilemma would magically appear.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”
She opened her mouth to say, Take a hike, bozo
. Or that had been her intention until she turned to see who was standing next to her table. When she did, she almost swallowed her tongue. She knew those lips. That chin. It was the man from her dream!
She shook her head. It couldn’t be. Fantasies did not come to life. Still, the thought set her heart to racing and tingles to her alert clit.
Whoever he was, he was fine. George Clooney fine, complete with prematurely gray hair and a smile that would make every woman within a twelve-mile radius cream her panties. She couldn’t see his eyes, but somehow she knew they were green. Crystalline. Like the man in her dream.
She gauged his height to be somewhere around six feet two. He was dressed conservatively, but she knew enough about fashion to know his clothes were straight off Savile Row in London. The suit jacket fit snug over his broad shoulders. It was unbuttoned, so she could see his flat stomach. Her fingers itched to touch him.
He looked down at her with a half smile that revealed a deep dimple in his cheek.
She stared at him for an embarrassing period of time before she realized he had his head cocked to the side as he waited for her answer.
She shook her head. “N-no. Please, have a seat.”
He flashed another smile, revealing two rows of white, straight teeth. Her heart started to pound, and her nipples hardened in response to that smile. Horrified, she quickly crossed her arms over her chest.
“Thank you for allowing me to join you.” His voice was husky yet smooth. It washed over her like a slow sip of really good whiskey.
“Um, you’re welcome.” What else was there to say?
“I apologize if I’m making you nervous. Am I?”
She tightened her arms across her chest. “A little bit, yeah.”
“I can leave, if you’d rather be alone. I just figured that since you seemed to be alone and so am I, there’s no reason not to start up a conversation. There’s nothing more depressing than being out of town and sitting by yourself in a hotel bar.”
She didn’t bother to correct his assumption. Besides, she loved his voice; it was warm and smooth. The sound sent shivers across her body. Maybe it was the liquor, the man himself, or a combination of both, but her pussy became moist and tingly, a sensation she hadn’t felt in a while. At least not with a man she wanted to lick like an ice-cream cone sitting across from her.
She allowed her arms to drift back down to her sides. An idea popped into her head. He might just be the thing she needed to take her mind off her troubles.
“No, please stay. I’d actually enjoy the company. You’d be doing me a favor, because if you left, I’d just go back to brooding. It’s a pastime better suited to artists and poets, of which I’m neither.”
“Hard day?” he asked.
She smiled ruefully. “You have no idea. It’s a Fiji day.”
His brow knit. “A Fiji day?”
“One of those days when I seriously contemplate chucking it all and moving to Fiji to live among the natives and dance topless in front of a bonfire.”
She almost groaned. That seemed like a little, TMI. Dancing topless? Sheesh.
He didn’t seem to mind and laughed, a low, rumbling sound from deep in his chest. Chloe’s thighs clenched. “Do they do that in Fiji?”
“Dance topless in front of bonfires.”
“I have no idea. I’ve never been. But if they don’t, I fully plan on implementing the practice.”
It had to be the alcohol that was making her tongue so loose.
“Personally, I think if you’re going to go, go big. I say you lose all the clothes and do the ?full monty’ thing.”
“Eww. So not happening. I mean, just think about all the burning flesh. Weenie roasts would be ruined for me forever.”
Oh shit, she thought when he simply stared blankly at her. Damn all this alcohol. It had the odd effect of making her put her foot in her mouth. It was definitely time for bed.
After her next cosmo arrived.
She was just about to open her mouth to apologize for her stupid comment, when he let out another low chuckle. The sound shot an electrical current across her skin and through her body, causing her nipples to constrict even further and her pussy to ache.
“Well, I’m sure that you wouldn’t have to worry about that. One of the first things that we as men learn to do is take care of our…weenies.”
She said nothing as she lost herself in the wicked gleam that lit up his eyes. Bedroom eyes. That’s what they were. She’d never understood that phrase until now.
Shaking her head, she muttered, “Yeah, well, you’d better. It’s what leads you around from the time you hit puberty until the day you die.”
The man across from her cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “Trouble in paradise? Is that why you’re here? You just found your man cheating on you?”
She had man trouble. Just not that kind.
“Nope. Nothing like that. Don’t mind me. I’m just a little buzzed. Speaking of which, where is that waiter with my drink?”
As if her words had somehow conjured him, he appeared. She turned and reached for her purse, when she heard the stranger offer to charge her drink to his room. She demurred. After a brief haggle, she allowed him to pay.
“Thank you, you didn’t need to do that.”
“Rarely do I pass on the opportunity to buy a beautiful woman a drink.”
She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder to determine what woman he was talking about.
“Yeah, well, thanks. I guess since you bought me a drink, I should introduce myself. I’m Chloe.”
“Nice to meet you, Chloe. The name’s Sean.”
He reached across the table and offered his hand.
She hesitated before offering her own in return.
If she had thought his voice was dangerous, the feel of his skin against hers was positively lethal. She was unprepared for the flood of sensations that rushed through her body. A warm rush of moisture pooled between her thighs, dampening her panties. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to regain control of her racing heart.
Quickly, she snatched her hand back. She stemmed the need to rub her hands together nervously and instead offered a shaky smile. She couldn’t tell if their brief touch had affected him, as his eyelids drifted down, shielding his eyes from her.
“Nice to meet you too, Sean. I have to run to the ladies’ room.”
Sean flashed his dimple. “Is this your way of blowing me off?”
“Of course not. Look, I’ll even leave my coat.”
“Your coat? That’s not very interesting.”
She stared at him. “What else did you expect? My panties?”
He grinned. “It’s a start.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” She winked at him before turning away.