Skin of the Night: Book One of The Night series

by Claire D. Bennett

  “Livy,” my tone was unusually strict, “Colin is a bastard that never deserved you, but just because he is, it doesn’t mean every man is. You can’t give him that power, and you shouldn’t let your past ruin your future.”

  Olivia inhaled deeply before she offered me a firm nod of her head, and I was slightly surprised at how quickly she absorbed my pep talk. Her libido must indeed be desperate, I gathered. Either way, I gave her no time to change her mind. Confident in my strides, I approached the two men while Olivia trailed behind me.

  The dirty blonde man noticed me first, and the look on his face affirmed my ego. With slightly thin lips parting, he turned his whole body towards me. Just like his brown-haired friend, he had a strong, lean build.

  “Hi,” I greeted and presented my most lascivious smile as I held his gaze. His eyes were large and a warm shade of brown, like melted chocolate. I loved chocolate.

  He appeared speechless, so I continued, “I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but my friend and I were—”

  “We’re not interested,” a dreadfully sensual voice interfered from my right.

  Looking towards its source, I locked eyes with the man Olivia had laid her favour with. They were light blue and eerily familiar. Dark brown eyebrows ran in nearly straight lines above them, and the shadow they provided augmented his alluring and mysterious aura.

  Had I met him before?

  A frown formed on my face. I could have sworn I’d seen him somewhere.

  At that moment, I was so preoccupied with trying to put a name to the face that I neglected the chance to admire it, but Christ, had I ever seen a man more gorgeous than him? Prominent cheekbones highlighted the shape of his strong, square jaw. It was clenched, I saw, but I gave no thought as to why.

  Below a proportionate, straight, and masculine nose rested a pair of full, delectable lips. They pressed together, forming a brooding line, while he continued to study me in his annoyance. He was easily the most physically attractive man I’d ever encountered, and he wasn’t remotely interested.

  “Where are your manners, man?” his friend scolded before his eyes darted in my direction again. “Please excuse him. He’s a bit blunt.”

  Puzzled, I persisted in staring at the dark-haired stranger.

  I must have met him before. I was certain I’d seen him somewhere. However, would I have forgotten an encounter with such a beautiful man? I doubted it. Where had I seen him, then? Was he a celebrity?

  “I’m sorry – have we met before?” I blurted out in my bewilderment.

  His eyebrows arched before a condescending chuckle slipped out of his mouth. A look of sardonic amusement etched through his riveting features.

  “Honestly, you’re interrupting our conversation, and you couldn’t be more original than that, Miss? At least you could have compensated with a better chat-up line. I’m disappointed. And like I said, we’re not interested, so move along, would you?”

  Bewitched by the sound of his sensual voice, it took me a few seconds to process the content, but once I had, I frowned, offended. Meanwhile, his friend groaned and shook his head beside me, clearly despairing of his companion.

  Could they be gay partners?

  Since I was struck by mild shock at his impertinence, I asked, “I beg your pardon?” Then, as soon as it subsided, I snapped back, “I was being serious, you utter twat.”

  His eyebrows furrowed while his arresting eyes – twice – travelled up and down my body, and once they’d returned to mine, a crooked smile crept across his tempting mouth. From the way they had devoured my body, I eliminated the option of him being homosexual. Only a straight man could regard me with such a gleam in his eye.

  “Perhaps we’ve slept together. But, if we have, you weren’t worth remembering,” he finally answered. My lips parted with my eventual gasp. What a complete arsehole!

  Shame to think he’d piqued my interest earlier when he obviously didn’t deserve it. That was quite an insolent way to treat another human being. His arrogance was off the charts. Who did he think he was? So yes, I had interrupted them, but there was a polite way to reject me. There was no need to step on my dignity.

  Rigid, my stare transformed into a pure glower. “As if I’d ever get so lost and desperate that I would wind up in a bed with you. You’re a sorry excuse for a man. Tell me, was it the lack of your mother’s affection that made you grow up to treat random women like shit?”

  He blinked at my ruthless insult, perhaps a little gobsmacked, and beside me, his companion burst into poorly stifled laughter. Olivia’s existence was lost on me, but knowing her, she was probably a breath away from withering.

  “I can assure you that my mother and I are on good terms,” came the handsome man’s calm reply.

  I folded my arms and scoffed. “Too good, I wager,” I countered. “Heading home to spend the night in her bed, then? That why you’re not interested?”

  Before he was able to respond, Olivia gasped and clasped my hand to drag me away. While observing their shocked facial expressions, she said, “Please excuse us.”

  “Excuse us?” I echoed in disbelief while she tugged me away from them. “Didn’t you hear him just now? How bloody rude he was?”

  “Choose your battles, love! He’s obviously not worth our attention,” she retorted.

  Seeing as she made a valid point, I simmered down somewhat. Only now did I notice that her body was trembling with irritation. Just like the rest of us, she was rattled. Well, that was something I quite excelled at – rattling people. It was definitely a flaw, but then everyone had flaws, I consoled myself.

  After pushing me onto the settee again, Olivia dumped her body next to mine, folded her arms and glared away from me. “Cara, honestly! ‘Have we met before?’ What was that?”

  Seeking reconciliation, I pouted at her. “I’m sorry. I honestly thought I’d seen him before. Worst part is that I still think I have.”

  She frowned and turned to catch a glimpse of them. Mirroring her, I saw that they were laughing, clearly at my expense. Well, they could laugh all they wanted. Personally, the only thing I found laughable was how attractive I had initially found them to be. Instead, they were ugly souls with nasty tendencies. How dare they laugh at my decision to stand up for myself?

  “Yeah, you know, now that you mention it, maybe he does look a bit familiar,” Olivia stated and faced me again with a puzzled expression.

  Where had we seen him, then?

  “Order us a round, please, would you? Strongest cocktail they’ve got,” I said while averting my eyes from the two men. I wondered to myself whether the encounter with them had ruined my chance for a pleasant night.

  The sound of Olivia’s subsequent chuckle assured me that I was already forgiven for the strife I had caused a moment ago. “Sure,” she obliged and pushed herself up from her seat. Impressed, I watched her graceful strut as she returned to the bar like she hadn’t a concern in the world.

  Olivia had always been great at rising above things. Less could be said for myself. I had much to learn from her in that respect.

  Throwing another glance at the two men, I saw the dark-haired man turn his head once Olivia reached the bar. It was obvious from how consciously he regarded her that he desired her attention. However, with her chin raised high and her gaze fixed straight ahead, she refused to acknowledge him, and the satisfying view made my lips twitch into a devilish grin.

  If only Jason had been here. Right about now, he would have laughed his lungs out while repeatedly patting my back, but he’d had coursework to do, which I had respected. Nevertheless, I could have used his moral support, so I decided to send him a text.

  20:58

  ‘You didn’t warn me about dickheads when you told me about this place x’

  ‘Thought that was a given? You wanted a place with lawyers. You can’t have one without the other x’


  ‘You twat. I’m not a dickhead’

  ‘You’re not a lawyer’

  ‘Yet x’

  ‘I just accused a man that Livy wanted to get off with of sleeping with his mum. Doubt your coursework is more entertaining…’

  ‘Lmao you did what?’

  ‘Did he deserve it?’

  ‘100 %’

  By the time Olivia returned, it felt like only a minute had passed. As she placed an espresso martini on the table, I looked up from my phone to find her smiling. Caught by it, I grinned back and put my phone aside. She had brought me my favourite cocktail.

  “Next round’s on me,” I said.

  “I didn’t pay for it.” She pressed her lips together in a poor attempt to hide her smile.

  My cognition lagged. “What?”

  “The guy you insulted did. Asked for your name, too, but I didn’t give it to him. Gathered I’d leave that choice to you.”

  Instantly, the floor summoned my jaw. Had he really bought me a drink? After all that?

  Responding to impulse, my gaze travelled in his direction. Spellbinding blue eyes met mine, and I was immediately captured by them. Wearing a complacent smirk, he raised his glass at me and gave me a wink, leaving his friend to snigger beside him as he shook his head.

  “Seriously? What’s his problem?” I grumbled, irritated, and broke out of his spell to focus on Olivia. Sinking into the spot beside me, she raised her cosmopolitan to her mouth.

  After a sip, she reflected aloud, “I think you changed his mind, acting the way you did. While I waited for our drinks, you were all he asked about. I told him nothing, though.”

  Bemused, I blinked back at her. “You had a conversation with him?”

  Olivia frowned. “He insisted on paying for our drinks, Cara. What was I supposed to do?”

  Ignore him? I would have. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

  Laughter poured from her mouth at the obvious humour I’d spiked my reply with. “You can have him,” she assured me with a grin, and her tone clearly implied that she harboured no bitterness and genuinely meant to give me her blessing. “He put me off with his attitude,” she continued to explain. “His friend, though – Andrew – he seems nice. He apologised on William’s behalf. William’s the arsehole.”

  I scoffed. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather he pissed off.”

  Olivia chortled and browsed the room again, probably to locate new targets. Meanwhile, I stared at the cocktail Mr Arsehole had bought me. I wanted it, but it seemed wrong to accept it. So instead, I just continued to stare at it, conflicted.

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Cara. Consider it an apology. Drink it,” Olivia scolded and rolled her eyes.

  “You do realise that if he sees me drinking it, he’ll consider himself excused?” I countered. “I won’t allow that. I’d rather buy my own.” I stood.

  “He’s going to speak to you, then,” she warned. “Is that what you want?”

  “Who says I’ve got to reply? I might as well return the favour – not interested,” I stated cheekily and headed for the bar. Eyeing Olivia over my shoulder, I found her grinning at me, silently commending my fierceness.

  I was halfway there when I sensed his eyes upon my figure, and it demanded every ounce of my willpower not to meet them. To signal that I did not want to be approached, I ensured that I would arrive at the far end from both men once I reached the counter.

  Spreading my hands across the dark surface of it, I searched for a bartender, but both of them were busy serving other customers, so I waited somewhat vigilantly. I could sense that Mr Arsehole continued to stare at me, and it made me feel strangely uneasy. Hyperaware of myself, I shifted my weight onto my right leg and resorted to studying the wall of myriad bottles behind the bar.

  When his muscular and bare forearms suddenly entered my field of vision, I recoiled a small step. From the corner of my eye, I saw them rest against the counter beside me. He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, and the grey waistcoat that he wore on top clung to his robust anatomy, serving as an unfair reminder of his tantalising masculinity.

  “I’m sorry about earlier, Miss. You’re right. I was very rude.”

  Since I refused to acknowledge his existence, I pretended not to have heard anything while I waited for a bartender to notice me.

  “If you’d give me a second,” he continued once he realised that I wasn’t going to respond, “I’d like to explain why.”

  Just then, a bartender spared me from having to respond to the imbecile. Blonde with green eyes, he looked positively Nordic. An alluring grin decorated his mouth when our eyes locked.

  “What can I get you, Miss?” he politely inquired, and judging from his strong accent, I thought he might be Swedish.

  Leaning slightly forward, I smiled back. “An espresso martini and a gin and tonic, please, thank you.”

  Nodding, he extended to me the payment terminal he’d just typed into, and I was just about to grab it when Mr Arsehole beat me to it. After snatching it away from me, he inserted his own card.

  “No!” I admonished and stared at his large hands. Prominent veins branched across the back of them, and a few climbed a small distance along his fingers, although they stopped long before they reached his neatly trimmed nails. They were undeniably male hands, and they were a beautiful pair at that. The experienced look of them wasn’t something I would forget anytime soon. During a brief moment of weakness, I wondered what it would feel like to have them caress my naked skin.

  His eyebrows arched at my harsh response. Through a lopsided smile, he said, “Now that I’ve got your attention—”

  “You had my attention earlier, Oedipus,” I interrupted, “and you wasted it,” I reminded him as I snatched back the device.

  “Oedipus?” he echoed with a titter of amazement. “How astute.”

  I merely rolled my eyes and was just about to withdraw his card when his loud sigh made me look at him.

  “If you withdraw my card,” he said, “dear Philip will have to restart the whole process. Do you really mean to make his job any more difficult than it needs to be? Just because you can’t swallow your pride?”

  I could hardly fathom the audacity of this man. I had never met someone quite so irritating in all my twenty-three years of life.

  When I looked at the bartender, whose name I supposed was Philip, I saw a flicker of humour cross his face.

  “You should have a sign on the door that warns of arsehole clientele,” I told him.

  He pressed his lips together and winked at me. Then, glancing at the pest beside me, Philip asked, “What have you done to deserve such a characterisation, Will?”

  William chuckled. “Well, I acted like an arsehole, naturally.”

  “That’s unusual.”

  “Yes, she caught me at a bad moment.”

  Philip smiled. “Then you ought to apologise to the lady,” he teased and cocked his head in my direction.

  “I’m trying, but she’s not letting me.”

  “Try harder.”

  The source of my annoyance faced me again. “Andy – my friend – has got a girlfriend. Or, he used to. They split up just today, but I expect it’s only temporary. So, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick, love,” he explained. “I’m the nice guy. Now, unless you’d like to get in the middle of that, I reckon I did you a favour.”

  I pressed my lips together and despised the fact that I found his reason valid. Then again, it could as well have been a lie. I didn’t know the man. What’s more, if it had been the truth, he could still have treated us more politely.

  Scepticism coloured my tone as I replied, “Why should I trust what you’re saying?”

  He gestured towards the payment terminal. “Let’s settle this first. May I buy your drinks for you?”

 
Finally, I met his eyes, and they were smouldering. The sight made a lump gather in my throat. I hadn’t noticed it before, but the man was rather intense – everything about him was.

  Struck speechless, I nodded my head.

  “Thank you,” he said before giving me a look of wonder. Puzzled by the expression on his face, I frowned back.

  “So,” he said while completing the transaction, “what’s your name, then?”

  “Oh, so you actually are interested,” I replied sarcastically as I watched Philip perform his magic. “How funny. I haven’t been bullied by a boy who fancies me since primary school.”

  Stealing a glance at William, I saw his mouth bend into a winsome grin before an incredulous laugh slipped out of it. In front of us, Philip pretended not to exist, although he failed at disguising his severe amusement. From his pursed lips, it was obvious that he was struggling not to laugh. Seeming to realise the same, he walked away to finish my drinks further away from us, probably to give us some privacy.

  “Yes, well, I’m glad I could treat you to some nostalgia,” William replied.

  “More like trauma.”

  Glancing over again, I noticed that William had turned slightly away from me to hide his reaction. From my limited view of his face, I saw that his grin persisted, but he was now biting on his lower lip while looking at the floor as though he could hardly contain himself.

  “Listen,” he said and turned to face me properly again. “If it’s not obvious already, I seriously regret my behaviour. I hadn’t thought you’d be so…” His eyes narrowed faintly. “Intriguing.”

  I snorted. Did he really consider that to be a legitimate excuse for his behaviour? What if I hadn’t been intriguing? What then? Would he have considered his conduct justified?

  He was obviously a conceited idiot. Why was I wasting even a breath on him?

  Condescension was etched on my face when I finally turned towards him. Even though I was wearing heels, he towered over me. Since I felt small and vulnerable this close to him, I wondered how tall he actually was. Taking my own height into account and adding it to the fact that I was wearing heels, I reckoned he was at least six-foot-four, maybe five.