by Roni Loren
He nodded absently, and she headed toward the bar. The thick crowd of testosterone around the counter made room for her as soon as they noticed she was female. When she finally squeezed through, she was standing in front of a familiar blonde bartender.
“Hey!” Candace said, her face lighting up. “I know you. What are you doing here?”
Aubrey peeked back at the table. “It’s a long story, but I’m working.”
Candace stood on her tiptoes following Aubrey’s line of sight, and her mouth fell open. “Holy shit! You’re here with the band?”
“So it seems.”
Candace dipped her head and tipped an imaginary hat. “Girl, I didn’t give you enough credit. That’s impressive. Damn.”
“Thanks. So how’d it go for you last night?” Aubrey hated herself for being curious, but she was dying to know.
She frowned and gave a shrug. “Lex totally shut both me and this other girl down. He was nice and all, but kind of a drag. So we partied for a while with Sean and a few of the guys from Darkfall. Sean was too wasted to be much company, but the others ended up being a lot of fun.”
Aubrey tried to ignore the relief that went through her at knowing Lex had turned the women down. Stupid. “Guess it turned out okay then.”
“Yep.” Candace said with a little wave of her hand. “I was just out for a fun night anyway. I’m not one of those starry-eyed women who’s deluded enough to think she’s going to be the one for guys like that. You just gotta enjoy it for what it is. Ya know?”
“Right,” Aubrey agreed, though the words were knocking around in her head, holding some silent warning she couldn’t quite grab onto at the moment.
“Can I get you something to drink? Ladies drink free.”
“Just water with lemon.”
Candace grinned. “Sure you don’t want any vodka mixed into that?”
“Nah, not drinking tonight.” Or ever. She traded her flat soda for the water and headed back to the table.
By the time Aubrey got back, a half-dressed girl with jet-black hair was rubbing Lex’s shoulder and leaning over him with her boobs basically in his face. Aubrey had the brief urge to shove the girl out of the way, some weird flash of possessiveness flipping her bitch switch. But she managed to resist and slid back into her seat, pretending not to notice.
Lex sent the girl a bored look.
“Don’t you want a lap dance, baby?” the stripper purred. “I’d make it worth your while. I’d even let you touch a little if you’re a good boy and don’t tell.”
Lex sipped his beer, not even looking at her. “Maybe some other time.” Then he glanced around her, noticing Aubrey’s return. “Hey, maybe my friend here wants one. Aubrey? My treat?”
The girl turned her catlike eyes on Aubrey and gave her a seductive smile.
Aubrey quickly dug in her purse and pulled out a twenty. “I’m good, but thanks for keeping him entertained while I was gone.”
The girl snapped the bill from Aubrey’s fingertips, her expression turning businesslike, and tucked it into the band of her boy shorts. “No problem, sweetie. Anytime.”
“You should have taken the dance,” Lex said after the girl prowled over to another table. “Maybe it would’ve loosened you up a little.”
“I’m fine.”
“Sure you are. You’re as taut as a guitar string. Never saw a naked girl before?”
She sniffed. Her tension had nothing to do with topless girls. “I just feel like I’m not getting any work done. I’ve barely been able to ask any of you anything.”
He gave a resigned sigh. “What do you want to know?”
The music was blaring so loud she could barely hear him, hardly a good environment for a proper interview, but she’d have to take what she could get. “Okay, how is the second album coming along? How does it compare musically to the first?”
He crossed his arms in front of him on the table. “I bet you don’t even know anything about our first album.”
“Not true,” she bluffed.
“Okay. Then what was our biggest hit?” He laced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair—all smugness and spread knees.
She forced her gaze not to travel the length of him, the blatant male posture beckoning her to look. “I don’t have to prove myself to you.”
“Heh, well, maybe I don’t want someone writing a story about me when she doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.”
“It was the song you closed with the other night,” she said, jutting out her chin, trying to appear confident. “Bring the Night.”
“You guessed.”
She totally had. But she hadn’t been able to get the song or his voice out of her head all day. “I know enough, Lex. I may be a food writer, but at one time in my life, I was really into music. It’s just been a while.”
“Prove it.”
She huffed. “How am I supposed to do that?”
He stuck three fingers in the air. “If you can name the next three out of four songs, artist and title, I’ll believe you.”
Jared spun in his chair to face us. “Are you making a bet?”
“Eavesdrop much?” Lex asked him.
Jared’s grin was unapologetic. “I love bets. That’s how I ended up with my Harley. That idiot drummer from Absinthe thought I would never pierce my—”
Aubrey’s palm shot upward. “TMI, Jared. Even reporters don’t want to know everything.”
He snorted. “Fine, your loss. So, what are the stakes?”
The calculating look on Lex’s face caused her stomach to turn over. He steepled his fingers in front of his chin like a dictator contemplating world domination. “You lose, you give me a lap dance, right here at the table.”
Immediate protests bubbled to her lips.
He held a finger up, halting her. “If you win, I promise a few solid hours with me tomorrow for a serious interview. No bullshit.”
Jared interrupted. “No, your part is too easy. I say if she wins, you do that plus give her a lap dance. That’s more fair.”
Lex grinned with full confidence. “No problem. I’ve got this locked down anyway.”
Aubrey opened her mouth to decline, but then bit her tongue as an idea popped into her head. It was a risk but could work. She put her hand on the table. “Fine, I’m in. Let me get another drink first and then we’ll start.”
“Right on,” Jared said and began tapping the other guys to let them know what was going on.
When she returned to the table, she had a refilled water and a knowing smile. “Let’s do this.”
Lex stared at her for a moment, as if questioning her sudden eagerness, but nodded finally. “All right, this song is almost over. We’ll start on the next.”
The other three band members ignored the pole abuse on stage, ready to watch the bet play out. She wondered what would entertain them more—her humiliation or Lex’s.
The first song started and Lex groused. “This one’s too easy.”
She smiled. She didn’t need any help on this one. “You didn’t make any rules about easy. ‘Hot for Teacher’ by Van Halen.”
“That’s one,” Jared said.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Lex replied, shooting him a quelling look.
They all watched the girl onstage finish her naughty teacher routine and then waited for the next song. When it began, Aubrey didn’t recognize it. She frowned and tapped her fingernails against the table, feigning thought. With her other hand she unfolded the cocktail napkin in her lap and glanced down briefly at the cheat sheet Candace had given her. As Aubrey had hoped when she raced back to the bar, the routines were pre-scheduled, which meant the songs were, too. She wet her lips as if she was nervous, enjoying the little ruse a bit too much. Lex turned predatory. “Come on Ms. Music, this was a big song by a big band.”
She listened to the song for a few seconds. The lyrics were graphic, and she wondered how a song like that even made it on the radio. Two girls writhed on the stage in some leather-and-whip routine that brought catcalls from the audience.
Her gaze slid to Lex. “Um, is it ‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails?”
The title didn’t make any sense based on the words of the song, but that’s what was on the napkin.
“That’s it!” Jared declared, smacking the table with his open palm. “Lex, I hope you wore your good panties.”
Lex showed Jared the backside of his middle finger and then eyed Aubrey suspiciously.
By the time the third song filtered through the speakers, Lex’s forehead was creased with frustration, and she was the cat chewing on proverbial canary feathers. She felt a smidge guilty about cheating—it wasn’t her style—but Lex totally deserved it. She sipped her drink casually then met his gaze. “‘Pour Some Sugar on Me,’ Def Leppard.”
Jared whooped and slapped high fives with the other two guys.
Lex groaned and let his head fall back. “Unbelievable.”
Aubrey hurriedly shoved the napkin into her purse and grinned triumphantly, beyond thrilled that she’d won her interview time. “Look, you don’t need to do the dance part. The interview time is more than enough.”
The last thing she needed was Lex dancing and stripping his clothes off in front of her. She could barely tolerate sharing air with him without thinking dirty thoughts. If he gave her a lap dance . . . well, a girl could only handle so much.
***
Lex narrowed his eyes at Aubrey, still stunned that she had won. He could accept that maybe she knew Van Halen—who didn’t? But, there was no way this chick listened to old-school Nine Inch Nails or eighties hair metal. He’d bet all his money on that.
She lifted her hair off her neck and piled it on top of her head to fan herself before letting it fall back around her in a dark flood. Lex flexed his fingers, wondering what it’d be like to run his fingers through it—or wrap it around his hand when he . . . He shook the image from his head before his blood flowed too far south.
“No, you can’t let him out of the bet,” Jared complained.
“Really, I don’t need that,” Aubrey said quickly.
Her posture shifted, her edge of nerves almost a taste in the air, and Lex’s lips curled into a grin. “Oh, no need to let me off the hook. I don’t punk out on a bet. You’ll get your show.”
A fleeting expression of panic skittered across her face, but she quickly covered it and grabbed for her drink. She was probably wishing she had alcohol in it now. Lex knew that Jared had intended for the bet to humiliate him, but this was going to embarrass Aubrey much more. He was used to being the center of attention. Performing on stage in front of people was his lifeblood. Aubrey, on the other hand, lived in a safe, neat world. She was probably used to men who observed the personal space rule, men who waited until the third date for a chaste kiss. Men who would never dare push her boundaries. Lex rose and swilled his beer.
Aubrey lifted her palms. “Seriously, Lex, I don’t want you to do this. We need to keep things professional.”
Her tongue darted out and swiped at her lip. Her knuckles were white against her drink. His gaze traveled to the flush creeping up her neck, and a slow smile spread across his mouth. Well, would you look at that. Little Miss Reporter was lying through her pretty white teeth.
She wasn’t protesting because of professionalism. He may not know her well yet, but he was an expert at recognizing the signs she was inadvertently throwing his way. Ms. Bordelon was terrified for the best possible reason—she feared her physical reaction to him. He remembered distinctly how she had quivered beneath him when he had touched her onstage, the look in her eyes when he’d brushed his lips against hers.
Oh, this was going to be fun. “Don’t worry, I’ll still respect you in the morning. Your professional status will be intact. Just remember, you can’t touch the stripper. It’s against the rules.”
She pulled her expression into one of utter boredom. “I’ll try to restrain myself.”
He laughed and then gripped the sides of her chair to pivot her away from the table to face him. He let his gaze slide over her from her head to her feet, taking his time, wishing he’d won the bet so he could watch her dance for him. She crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest, pinning him with her glare.
Damn, she was cute when she was pissed.
A new song pounded through the club, and he began to sing the lyrics to her as he circled her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders. Her muscles stiffened under his touch. He bent his head next to her ear, the honey citrus scent of her hair cutting through the smoke and alcohol of the bar. “You’re going to have to relax a little or you’re not going to be able to enjoy this.”
He grabbed the collar of her black blazer and slipped it off her shoulders, forcing her to unfurl her arms. She allowed him to take off the jacket, revealing her fitted green tank top underneath. He let his eyes linger a moment on her neckline.
“That’s better,” he said. “I don’t want you getting too hot.”
“I thought you were the one who was supposed to take clothes off, not me.”
He stepped in front of her and unfastened the top button on his shirt. “As you wish.”
Her gaze fell to his chest, and she bit her lip as the flush on her throat crept up to her cheeks. He raised an eyebrow. Well, well, Ms. Bordelon. A wave of satisfaction moved through him. Maybe Jared’s plan wasn’t so ridiculous after all. Lex hadn’t believed that Aubrey would jump into bed with any of them. She had scruples, thank you very much. But the look on her face now was unmistakable. He’d been around enough women to recognize it. Desire, pure and simple. She may think he’s a jerk, she may hate him personally, but on some level, she wanted him.
The corners of his mouth tipped into a wicked smile. Maybe he could solve two problems at once. If he could get her in bed, not only could he force her to drop the story, but he could exorcise the ridiculous obsession to touch her that had been plaguing him since the body shot. Plus, God knew if any girl was in need of a wild, no strings romp in the sack, it was this one. He pulled open another button.
Chapter 5
Holy shit. There were only three more buttons left on Lex’s shirt. Aubrey tried to avert her eyes, but they stayed glued to his chest—the magnetic pull too great. He pulled open another, revealing the smooth plains of muscle hidden underneath. Unlike his arms, which had full-sleeve tattoos decorating their length, his torso was mostly unmarked. He sang the words of the song to her, his deep, grit-filled voice turning her insides molten. God, she needed to get up. Leave. Do something. He yanked open the last two buttons and held his shirt wide, exaggerating every motion and moving his body in a way that dripped sexual confidence.
The band members behind her laughed, and the cocktail waitress catcalled, “Take it all off, baby!”
Lex let his shirt slide down his arms, and then he draped it around Aubrey’s neck. His scent surrounded her—masculine spice and something uniquely him. Sex. That’s what she’d name that cologne. She inadvertently uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. Her attention dropped to Lex’s hard stomach, where his hands moved precariously close to his belt. She tried to swallow, but an invisible fist had clamped around her throat. His jeans sat low on his hips, allowing Aubrey an unencumbered view of the deep V-cut of his pelvis. She dragged her focus back up in an attempt to avoid imagining detailed pictures of what lay at the base of that V.
Lex gave her a wry smile and moved closer. He braced his hands on the tops of her knees and bent until his face was inches from hers. “You’re blushing, Aubrey. What’s going through that head of yours? No naughty thoughts, I hope. That would be so unethical.”
With him that close, she had trouble catching a breath. “You’re an ass.”
<
br /> He chuckled and slid his hands along her outer thighs, pressing her legs together. The heat of his touch seared through the denim of her jeans. “What are you doing?”
He stepped wide and straddled her legs. “They don’t call it a lap dance for nothing, sugar.”
She was now eye level with the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers tingled with the need to reach out and run her hands down the plains of his stomach—to feel every dip and angle. What would his skin taste like if she closed the few inches between them and ran her tongue along it? She bit the inside of her cheek as a surge of heat settled right between her thighs.
Lex dragged one end of his belt through the loop and unhooked the clasp. His fingers toyed with the button of his jeans.
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Is it boxers or briefs? All the women’s magazines ask me that. What do you think, Aubrey? Have you come across any of those articles? Do you know the answer? What if it’s neither?”
Aubrey’s lungs forgot how to expand. Surely he wouldn’t actually get naked in public. Right? She analyzed his face—downright devious, the devil himself would pale in comparison. His fingers unclasped the button, and in a panic she reached out and grabbed his hands. “Oh, god, please don’t.”
He tossed his head back in a laugh and quickly buttoned his pants before stepping away. “That’s not what the girls usually say.”
It took a second to shake out of her spinning haze, but the minute the words registered, anger pounded through her. She shot out of her seat and snatched her purse from the table. “God, your mother must be so proud. She raised a real gentleman. I’m glad you had a good time making fun of me tonight, but I’m done with this.”
She yanked his shirt from around her neck and shoved it at him.
“You’re dropping the story?” he asked smugly. “Just because I got you all turned on?”
She scoffed. “I’m not turned on. I’m pissed. And no, I’m not dropping the story. You would love that, wouldn’t you?”
