No one came.
Everyone seemed to be hanging with friends, overdrinking, and interested in their own conversations. Humiliation threatened, so I quickly gulped the rest of my drink and reconsidered the bartender.
“Hey, pretty girl, how are you?”
Relief flowed through my body as I turned to face my approacher. Kind of cute, average looking, blond hair, brown eyes. “Good, thanks.” I searched for something witty to say. “Umm, having a good time?”
“Better now that I found you. I’m Trent.”
Ouch. Kind of lame, but so was I. I smiled brilliantly. “Thanks. I’m Quinn.”
“You want another drink?”
I lit up. “Yes, please. Sex on the Beach.”
“The bartender’s free over there,” he pointed out. “I’ll wait for you.”
Disappointment flooded. He didn’t even want to buy me a drink? Oh, well, maybe he didn’t want to be taken advantage of. And I wouldn’t have let him get it for me anyway, since that would’ve broken the rules of always keeping your drink in view. I inserted myself in the vacancy by the bar, got my third one of the night, and went back. He’d kept his promise and was waiting for me. “So what brings you to Key West?” he asked.
“Spring break.”
His eyes lit up. I guess he wasn’t one for warming me up, because he stepped right into my space and began stroking my arm. “This is one hot outfit. I’m here on business for a few days. Got a luxury suite. You up for some privacy?”
His caress was kind of annoying. Probably thought he was being sexy, but he kept running his fingers up and down my arm like I was going to buckle with desire. And I didn’t like the way he bragged about his suite, like I was some poor kid who’d be dazzled. Geez, was this it? No sparkling conversation or lead-up? My stomach remained quiet, and I admitted I felt nothing. I certainly wasn’t going to sleep with someone who didn’t excite me—what was the point?
I sighed and stepped away. “Not really,” I said glumly.
His eyes widened with surprise, then turned ugly. “Whatever. Figured you’d be a tease.” He walked off without a glance back, and that’s when I knew I was done.
The hell with it. I’d face Mackenzie’s wrath at breakfast Tuesday. My tan would make up for it. I was outta here.
I walked down Duval Street and decided to head to South Beach. It was just past sunset, so the party was still going strong in the bars and on the sidewalks. I’d walk on the beach, then hit the room for some TV. No one would know—I’d tell my friends I tried but only met a bunch of dickheads. Which was true.
The thought of James tortured me as I strolled. What was it about him that made everything in my body shiver? Now that I had some distance, I wasn’t as pissed about his lie, but I’d never approach him again. Probably saving myself from a big mess. I hadn’t even kissed him yet. What if I got weirdly attached, or I discovered he lied about more stuff? Tomorrow was another day. Maybe I’d try again with some new guy.
My heel dug into a small crater on the road and I almost went down. Enough. I had no one left to impress. I leaned over and unhooked one strap, wiggled it off my foot, and hopped up and down while I tried to get the second shoe off. The leather string got caught, I jumped again, and felt my ankle begin to twist.
Typical me.
My ass headed south and I prepared myself for a rough landing, when strong arms grabbed me from the back and straightened me out. I opened my mouth to thank my protector, but he wasn’t done. Kneeling down, he reached for my ankle, and gently untangled my shoe. Then looked up.
“You!” I gasped.
His smile was brilliant. The sun flashed on those white teeth, and his ocean eyes gleamed with wickedness. “Yes, me. You didn’t think I’d let you walk away that easy, did you?”
Slowly, he rose, trailing his fingers up my bare leg and spreading fire over my skin. Definitely not annoying. In fact, my thigh quivered as he paused at my knee, then reluctantly pulled away as he got to his feet.
I was a goner.
Chapter Five
THE MOMENT I saw her walk into the bar, I realized I’d do anything to f**k her.
Anything.
The guys were babbling about some shit—probably a girl—and the pitchers of beer were flowing free. I recognized her as soon as the door banged open and she made her way to the bar, sitting next to her girlfriends. She wobbled on those dangerous high heels, and I resisted the impulse to jump up and make sure she didn’t fall. The protective instincts were strange, since females rarely aroused anything other than my desire to party and get laid. She slid on the bar stool and the skirt flipped up, revealing the long flash of pale white skin that stretched all the way to heaven.
My dick rocketed to life. I’d never been turned on so fast by anyone. The black fabric slashed across her br**sts and left one shoulder bare. She had patches of light red on her skin, probably a burn. She was so fair she’d bake out here without enough sunscreen.
She’d done something to her hair, and the long silky length curled at the edges, giving her a bit of a messy look that was sexy as hell. Her friends seemed animated with conversation as they bent their heads together. One wore a wide-brimmed sunhat as if to hide from the crowd, but I could tell from the flash of her face she looked really familiar. The other one was also attractive, and seemed protective of Quinn, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
The beer pitchers emptied, and rounds of tequila began. One of my crew nudged my shoulder. “You buying, James?”
I nodded. Didn’t I always?
I sat and studied her, enjoying being able to stare as long as I wanted. Suddenly, her friend jerked her head toward me, and Quinn spun around.
Like a sucker punch in the gut, my head reeled. Those sinfully dark eyes pinned me down and held me in her grip without mercy. My c**k jumped, my jeans shrunk, and in those few seconds, I knew she was just as attracted to me.
Her mouth made a cute little O, then she turned around so quickly I was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. Her friends spent awhile talking with her, but she never looked back at me. I waited. Bought another round. And watched as the woman of my wet dreams slid off the stool, adjusted her balance, and walked out with her head held high.
When she stumbled on the first stair, I laughed. Not at her clumsiness. At her magnificence. How could her discomfort in formal wear make me so happy?