She shakes her head just slightly, making her hair fall off her shoulder and exposing more of her bare skin. “It’s fine.” Her voice is soft as she walks forward without missing a beat, stepping up to the bar on my right, coming closer. Like a lamb heading into the lion’s den, teasing and taunting unknowingly.
She’s so close to me, so damn alluring. The black lacy dress clings to her curves. Her hips are seductive and I can just imagine how they’d feel to hold as I took her from behind. I can feel the bartender’s eyes flicker to me questioningly as Julia orders, but I can’t take my gaze off Julia.
I swallow thickly, leaning my forearms against the bar and attempting to act casual, getting that much closer to her.
She doesn’t know anything about how we’re linked and she doesn’t have to. She’ll never know the truth and this is my chance to learn more about who the pretty face in the picture is.
“Julia, right?” My heart pounds, questioning why the hell would I admit that I know anything at all about her. I don’t intend to lie to her, though. Nothing but lies of omission. I’ve heard her name in social circles. Her family is well known so I doubt she’ll be surprised that I recognize her.
“Jules,” she corrects me warmly, now looking at me differently than she did a moment ago. She seems to do a double take and a hint of playfulness sparkles in her eyes. It’s as if I’m suddenly what she’s been looking for. Or maybe who she’s been waiting for.
“Ah, Jules.” I tap my fingers on the bar and glance away for a moment. What the fuck am I doing? This isn’t just playing with fire, this is worse. It’s asking to be burned and shoving my fists into the coals.
Patricia sets two shots of what look like chilled tequila in front of Jules. I watch with interest as she throws the first one back without thinking twice. Her slender fingers slip around the second one, ready to down it as well.
The pain comes off her in waves. She’s drowning it in alcohol. She’s good at hiding her emotions on the surface, but her actions speak so much louder than words.
“For a moment I thought you got two so you could share with me,” I say teasingly with a smirk, more to keep her from drinking it than the desire to have it for myself.
She licks her lips and smiles. “You want it?”
Goddamn, does she know how she’s coming off right now? She’s already testing me, because just hearing those words slip between her lips has my dick straining against my zipper. Yes, I fucking want it. She’s forbidden. The one woman in this city I should stay far away from.
“If you’re offering,” I answer her with a flirtatiousness I don’t recognize. She blushes and tucks her hair back behind her ear. As she pulls her eyes away from me, she catches a glimpse of something across the room that rips the happiness from her in an instant.
I throw back the shot but keep my eyes on her. The cold liquid burns. I was right about it being tequila. It’s strong too. Stronger than I expected and it takes the breath from me, making my chest feel tight, but then it relaxes me all the way down.
I hold up two fingers for Patricia. “Another two,” I say and stand, sliding the stool I’d been sitting on over to Jules. “I took your shot so it’s only fair,” I say. Instantly, her eyes come back to me.
I watch as they swirl with a mix of questions. Vulnerability is clearly present and that only makes her that much more enticing.
“I’m not sure I should,” she says softly. Her honesty is so raw, so genuine.
“You really shouldn’t,” I say with complete honesty as well. She deserves that much. She’s Little Red Riding Hood in fuck-me heels and I’m worse than the Big Bad Wolf. I lean forward, knowing I’m breaking every rule I have as I bring my lips just inches from the shell of her ear.
Her fingers tighten on the edge of the stool as I whisper, “But you want to. And this is so much better than whatever you were going to do.” I’m not sure if what I said is meant more for her or for me, but either way, I’ve convinced myself.
My rough voice and hot breath make goosebumps trail down her shoulder. Her nipples pebble under her dress, just barely becoming noticeable beneath the expensive fabric that graces her skin. I pull away from her, offering her space and an out.
She could leave if she wanted to. She could walk away. Fuck, she could call me an asshole and I’d sit here and do my best to pretend I’ll never go after her again.
It takes a moment for Jules to pull herself together. She sits there in what seems like a daze. It’s only when Patricia sets down the shot glasses, spilling just a touch of the chilled tequila, that she meets my gaze again.
I take the one closest to Jules and hold it out to her. She keeps her eyes on me but accepts it.
“Here’s to things we know we shouldn’t do,” I say with a smile, lifting my glass and extending it for a toast.
Slowly, so very slowly, that bit of happiness comes back to her. Her eyes keep flickering with uncertainty to the floor and across the room.
“Here’s to doing what makes us happy,” she says, forcing her shoulders back straight as she clinks her glass against mine and then downs every drop. She slams her glass on the bar while I’m left holding mine and watching her every move.
I toss it back as she picks up her clutch, obviously ready to pay for the shots.
“Don’t.” There’s more strength in my voice than I should have used. I soften my tone as I tell her, “It’s on me.” I hesitate then add, “I was just getting ready to leave.”
She watches me cautiously, but I look toward the bartender as I get out my wallet. All the while paying attention to Jules in my periphery.
“Well, thank you … what’s your name?” she asks.
“Mason,” I answer her hoping she’s never heard of me, but she brightens and nods her head.
“Thatcher. Yes, I thought I recognized you.” She bites the inside of her cheek as something occurs to her and her expression falls slightly. “I’m sorry to hear—”
“To happiness, right?” I say, cutting off her apology, then pass my card to Patricia. It hurts me to say the words, but I don’t bother to hide it.
That only makes her frown, somehow making her appear even more beautiful and alluring. We’re both in pain. Both getting over something. Only this shit I did to myself whereas she’s collateral damage.
She turns to the bar again, the playfulness gone.
“To happiness, and to the things we want,” I tell her as I sign the receipt and leave the pen on the bar. I spear my fingers through my hair, feeling the heat of the moment and the buzz of the liquor starting to affect me.
I glance at her and watch as she closes her eyes. It’s affecting her too. She’s easy prey—beautiful, naive, innocent. I’m an asshole for doing this, but I can’t help that I want her. Her eyes haunt me, but her body tempts me.
“I’m going to get out of here.” I let my hungry gaze roam down her sexy curves, not hiding what I want from her in the least. “You want to come with?”
Julia
To happiness, and to the things we want.
Mason’s words echo in my ears. I know I’m buzzed, but the odd mix of anxiety and relaxation running through me are from something else. It’s the realization that I’m at a crossroads. I’m standing in front of an open door and I know that going through will change everything. It would put my world into motion again, moving me forward, shoving me from the stagnant place I’ve been in these last few months.
There would be no way to go back, but there’s no telling who I’d be once I’m on the other side. My body is ringing with desire and adrenaline.
Mason Thatcher. I’ve heard of the handsome devil. The pictures I’ve seen don’t do his broad shoulders and muscular frame justice. The rough stubble on his jaw begs me to reach up and brush my fingertips against it. He’s tall, dark and handsome … and a notorious player. A man I shouldn’t be caught dead talking to. My husband would have killed me for having drinks with a man like Mason.
But Jace has left me all alo
ne. And Mason’s so much more than I thought I could want in a man.
I rip my eyes from his hard body. Although he’s in a suit, I noticed his hands first, rough and callused. It’s clear they’re from years of hard work, something the men in here know little about. Actual manual labor.
I try to relax and casually lean against the bar, slipping my pointer finger into one of the empty shot glasses and forcing it onto its side. I don’t know why and it probably makes me appear drunker than I am, but I don’t care.
“Mason, do you like tequila?” I ask him and this time when I speak, there’s a bit of flirtatiousness in my voice. Guilt weighs heavily in my chest, but only briefly before the alcohol drifting into my blood numbs the memories. I’ve been alone for too long. I can have him for a night. Just one night.
Mason’s steel gray eyes roam over the curves of my waist and ass. He’s bold, licking his lips and then taking a step forward to lean against the bar with me. He’s close enough that the heat of his body makes me that much hotter.
I want to know what it would be like for a man like him to pin me beneath him. To take me how he wants me. I close my eyes as a warm flush rises into my cheeks from the intensity of his stare.
“I do,” he replies and his voice is low and rough. It does bad things to me. I rest my head in my hand, both loving and hating the way the alcohol soothes the pain.
This isn’t me moving on, but I’m ready to feel something else. My brow pinches at his response when I look back at him, but then I realize he’s just answering my question about whether or not he likes tequila. I’m a bit more than tipsy but I’m still here and present, and I know what I want.
Even if I’ll hate myself in the morning, it’s one night of not going back to that large, empty house alone.
The tight pull of two small hands at my waist and Sue’s loud voice make my heart skip a beat and I swear to God I almost scream. I feel like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
“Jules, Jasper’s out front.” Sue talks like she has no idea she just scared the shit out of me.
My heart pounds in my chest as I turn to face her fully, my eyes darting from the man candy on my right and then back to her.
Caught red-handed.
It takes a moment for me to realize what Sue said, and a moment for her to catch on to what I was about to do.
She eyes Mason but before she can say a word, I say, “Jasper?”
Although it comes out like a question, it’s more of a curse.
Sue gives me a sympathetic look as she says, “The exhibition at Ruppert Park must’ve ended.” Jasper’s with the New York Post. Every time he sees me he has a question and I know whatever I say will end up misquoted in the paper the next morning. He’s not kind like the others.
I blow out a heavy breath, looking through the crowd and toward the entrance. I don’t feel like dealing with this shit.
“And what are you doing here?” Sue’s question is directed at Mason who’s standing behind me, still leaning against the bar and resembling sin incarnate. He doesn’t seem to mind the interruption at all. He gives Sue a lazy smile that brings back the heat between my thighs full force.
“Just leaving, actually.” Jesus, his voice is as smooth as silk.
One split second passes and a wide grin spreads across Sue’s face, her dark hair swaying, brushing against her cheek as she knowingly looks between the two of us. I lean backward, gripping the stool behind me and wanting an escape. It’s one thing to flirt with the idea of bringing someone home; it’s another thing entirely for everyone to know I was thinking about it.
Sue looks pointedly at Mason’s cock and raises a brow, which only makes me want to bury my face in my hands.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask Sue and step away from Mason. Gripping my clutch tighter, I’m ready to get the hell out of here. There’s not enough tequila in the world to cancel out the sobriety that the mention of Jasper brings me.
“You two get out of here,” Sue says, stopping me in my tracks. That’s the last thing I expected her to say.
“What’d you say your name was?” she asks Mason.
“Mason Thatcher.” He extends a hand to Sue and she takes his hand coyly with both of hers.
“Mason,” Sue says and her voice drips with sex appeal. It always does. She’s a cold-hearted bitch to some but just as vivacious and insatiable as she was ten years ago when I first met her during my freshman year of college.
She leans in slightly and I get a good look down her blouse. Her necklace shifts so that the thin gold chain and glittering emerald jewel rest on her perky breasts, but when I look up, Mason’s only looking into her eyes. “You take good care of my girl tonight, Mason.” Sue looks back at me and that roguish look in her eyes makes me smile.
“I plan on it,” Mason tells her and releases her hands.
“You are wicked,” I whisper to Sue, my smile widening.
“Just one minute,” Sue says. She holds up her pointer finger at Mason and grips my wrist, moving me away from him and closer to the powder room as if he can’t hear us a whopping twelve inches away. I keep myself from rolling my eyes.
“It’s nothing serious.” The words sound defensive even to me. I don’t want her to judge me or to hate me. I just want her to understand. Out of all the girls, I think she will. More than anything, I know I want to get out of here with a stranger. It makes me feel dirty and shameful, but right now it’s what I want.
“Nothing serious?” she says. “It is for me,” Sue. My lungs stall at her words. She shifts her weight and looks over her shoulder toward our booth. I can’t see either Kat or Maddie, although I’m sure they’re still there. “You need this.” Sue stares into my eyes, the look so serious I’m caught off guard.
“The question is,” she says as she lowers her voice and leans into me, “are we telling the others?” Oh, thank the good Lord. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When she pulls away, gripping my elbows in her hands and winking at me, I know everything’s going to be okay.
I hesitate, glancing back at Mason and then I bite the inside of my cheek. “I don’t want to lie to them,” I tell her honestly.
“Then you two slip out the back. Do it fast before I go tell them and before Jasper can get his scrawny, organic, vegan-eating ass inside.”
I snicker at Sue’s response, but the reality of what I’m doing is settling in. I lean forward as Sue lets go and I grip her hand before she can turn and leave me alone with my soon-to-be one-night stand.
“Tell me I’m not a bad person.” The words slip out before I can think about what I’m saying. I try to keep the smile on my face, but it wavers.
“Getting laid doesn’t make anyone a bad person.”
I nod my head, willing the emotions to go back to being buried deep inside of me as if they don’t deserve to surface in this moment.
“Unless he’s married,” she adds quickly and I chuckle.
The bit of humor helps me feel a sense of relief, but it’s small. Her expression softens. “You just need a little something to kick-start your happiness again.”
To happiness.
“I do.” I nod my head.
True to her nature, Sue ignores the way my voice cracks as she takes a half step closer to me. “Then get over there already. The sooner you leave, the sooner he can be fucking you with your ankles pinned behind your head—”
A laugh escapes me before she can finish. “Can you even put your legs behind your head?”
“For the right man, I can do a lot of things.” She looks at Mason, then to me.
“Just have fun tonight,” she says, keeping things light but it’s calming.
I nod my head as she turns from me, leaving me alone with Mason.
Alone to do bad things and make bad decisions. But at least I’m doing something.
Alcohol helps. I can always blame it on the alcohol.
It’s then that I notice a few eyes watching. Including Margo, who’s taking covert
glances. That’s when he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me into him, bringing my back against his front as he whispers in my ear.
“You ready to go?” he asks, his warm breath traveling down my skin and making my body feel alive for the first time in several months.
I don’t care that everyone can see. The city can talk; I’ll deny it all.
“Will you hold me afterward?” I whisper my one request before I realize what I’ve said.
His body stills behind me and I close my eyes, hating that I’ve ruined this before it’s even started. It’s a one-night stand, nothing more. No emotions.
“Until the morning?” he asks me. My heart beats again, in rhythm with his.
I nod my head, my hair rubbing against his hard chest and his thumb brushing against the black fabric of my dress.
Just until morning.
Mason
Will you hold me afterward?
I’m calm on the outside, as if there’s not a damn thing wrong with what I’m doing. I don’t know what’s come over me.
The Mercedes’s alarm beeps as I unlock it and open Jules’s door for her. Her heels are muted on the wet pavement as she rounds me and slips easily into the luxurious leather seat. Her soft blue eyes look up at me as she tucks her hair behind her ears and settles the clutch in her lap as she murmurs, “Thank you.”
I merely smile and close her door, the keys jingling as I walk to the driver side, my pulse racing wildly.
This is a mistake. I don’t hold women afterward. Sex is sex and nothing else.
But I’m also a selfish prick, and I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want her. What I want, I get.
I start the car, the purr of the engine and soft classical music filling the cabin.
As I look over my shoulder to back out, Jules clears her throat. “Are we going to …” she starts to ask and then a beautiful blush colors her cheeks.
You Are My Reason (You Are Mine Book 1) Page 4
