“Sounds like our kind of place, brother.” He knocked his shoulder against mine. “How’re we going to divide them up tonight?”
“I’ll take the blondes and the red-heads, and you can have the brunettes.” I winked at him.
“Shit, man. That kind of logic presupposes that all the women in this bar have their natural hair color.” He shook his head in mock dismay.
“I think in this case we might have to trust them until we can prove otherwise.” I opened the door. “After you. And may the best man get the luckiest . . . at getting a chance to prove otherwise.”
It was dark inside, of course, but my eyes adjusted quickly. Owen and I threaded our way through the crowd and approached the bar, where we both ordered beers. I leaned my back against an empty stool, scanning the tables and dance floor.
It was a good mix of people, with a large percentage of the guys clearly from Fort Lee. The fact that we were outside of Petersburg meant fewer local men, and that was probably a good thing; sometimes the tensions between those who lived in town and those here temporarily with the Army made things a little difficult. But tonight, everything felt laid-back and relaxed.
And the range of women who were in the place was truly a sight to behold. There were tables full of girls who seemed to be just above drinking age, all of them dressed up and made up, casting furtive glances at the groups of men gawking at them. There were also several tables of older women who didn’t seem to care whether or not any of the guys even noticed them. I had a hunch most of those were married ladies, out to enjoy a rare night of freedom.
But the ones who caught my eye were the ones in between, who congregated around the bar and shimmied on the dance floor. They weren’t the shining-eyed girls looking for happily-ever-after or the been-there, done-that jaded ladies. They were young, independent women who were looking for the same thing I was—a night of fun, passion and no strings attached.
Owen finished his first beer, snagged a second and lifted it to me, leaning closer as he nodded to our right. “I’m on brunettes, right? Check out the party girl at six o’clock.”
I glanced over, trying to keep it light and surreptitious, raising my eyebrows when I saw who he’d been eyeballing. Damn, he’d called dibs on a live one. She was all curves and softness, with long, fat black curls that hung down her back. Owen had a thing for long hair, and this chick definitely fit the bill.
“Nice.” I cocked my head. “But none of her friends are my type. You go ahead, and I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Wish me luck.” He held up his bottle and clinked it against the neck of my beer.
“Not that you’ll need it.” I laughed, finishing our normal schtick. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”
I stood there a little longer, watching my friend’s progress without being too creepy about it. I’d noticed the girl’s eyes light up when she’d seen Owen heading her way, and now they were deep in flirtation. She had one of her curls wrapped around her finger, and her head was tilted as she blinked up at him. He had an arm braced on the bar behind her as he leaned in to say something in her ear that made her cheeks go bright red.
“And we have achieved lift-off, folks,” I murmured to myself. With a sigh, I shifted a little, sitting down on the stool I’d been leaning against and checking out the other side of the bar. I enjoyed watching people interact, letting my eyes wander over the lithesome female bodies. Even if not all of them appealed to me—or at least, not enough to make me get up and walk over there to make my interest known—I could appreciate the way they moved, the way their hair swished . . . yeah. I guessed it was the same as the way some people could enjoy a Picasso or a Rembrandt, even if they weren’t about to go up and plant a big old wet kiss on a painting.
And then I saw her.
She was standing on the edge of the dance floor next to another girl, but I didn’t pay any attention to her friend. All I could see was the woman in the short black dress; her shoulder length hair was medium blonde, with streaks of red in it, which meant she was fair pickings for me. Her body was . . . well, fuck, it was perfection. Her ass was round, accented by the silky material of the dress, although I had a feeling that if she bent over, it might not cover all of that tempting bottom. She’d turned to the side, and her tits were amazing, too—by the way they moved under the low-cut neckline, I was fairly sure she wasn’t wearing a bra, which meant that jiggle was all her, with no help from any padding or push-up.
But honestly, it was the eyes that got me. They were huge, taking up most of her face, and bright green as I could see when she leaned over to speak to her friend. She was alive and sparkling, and fuck me if I didn’t spring a boner right there. I fidgeted on the barstool, trying to adjust myself without looking like that was what I was doing.
I was just about to get to my feet and make my way over toward her when the music changed, and all of the women in the room ooohed in unison. Yeah, I got it. It was P!nk, which meant epic chick song. Woman power and all that. But it also meant that the woman I was currently watching joined the rest of them thronging onto the dance floor. In a split second, I lost her.
Dancing—well, this kind of dancing—wasn’t really my thing, but when it was in the support of a good cause—for example, getting laid—I could get jiggy with the best of them. So I polished off the rest of my beer, set the empty on the bar and began to meander toward the center of the room, where most of the females had congregated to shake, rattle and roll.
I got sucked into the rhythm of the gyrating bodies, and more than one set of hands reached out to try to slow me down and draw me in. But I was searching for just one enticing ass, and I wasn’t willing to settle for what was convenient. Not when I knew that perfection was somewhere in here . . .
Aha! I spotted her head a few feet away and gently pushed my way in that direction. She had her arms in the air as she danced, singing along and making goofy faces at her girlfriend, who was doing the same thing across from her. Just before I reached them, a long-haired hipster came up behind the friend, and I slowed, watching the interchange as he made his move on her. The other girl appeared to be open to whatever he was suggesting, which I realized must have been leaving the floor to grab a drink, when she gave the universal gesture for drinking.
As the two melted away, I took my chance, coming up behind the blonde until I was close enough that her very fine ass was nearly rubbing my dick. Nearly, but not quite. Not wanting to touch her before I asked permission—this time, anyway—I bent my head to murmur into her ear.
“Hey.”
She startled, but not as much as I might have thought. Her face turned toward me, taking me in and checking me out, and I made a point of keeping my gaze steady on her eyes, not looking any lower, even though the temptation was pretty damn huge. I could tell when she’d decided to give me a chance.
“Want to dance?” I spoke low, near the side of her face.
She smiled, lifting her head to look up at me. “I thought I was dancing.”
A half-smile curved my lips. She was feisty, and I liked that. “I mean, do you want to dance with me?”
She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she took a step backward, and her eyes traveled down me, very blatantly taking my measure without any trepidation. I stood still, letting her check me out, the heat of her gaze raking over me as though her fingertips were doing the work. Damn, this woman was something else. I was willing to bet there wasn’t a shy bone in her body.
When she’d finished, she eased closer to me, almost pressing against my body, her unfettered tits grazing my chest as she reached up to circle her arms around my neck.
“Is it really just a dance you’re asking me for?”
For a solid minute, I forgot the answer to that question. Hell, I forgot my own fucking name. All I could remember was the way her eyes held mine, and the allure of the parts of her touching the parts of me. I wanted her, and I wanted her now. I pictured myself lifting her dress and settling her over my throbbing cock. I felt her bo
obs in my palms, even though right now, my hands were securely around her back, not even grasping her ass.
Steeling myself not to give away too much too fast, I dropped my mouth to her ear again.
“I’m not limiting any of our options, sugar. But let’s start with a dance and see where that leads.”
Chapter Two
Harper
“This place is wild!” I had to yell to be heard over the pulsing music and raised voices. “How did you find it?”
My friend and co-worker, Corey, leaned over to answer me. “Paul, the new sous chef, told me about it. He used to come here before he started working with us and, you know, no longer had time for a life. He said the drinks are strong and the music is hot.”
“Exactly what I need tonight.” I shook back my hair and ran one hand down my short silky dress. “The stronger and the louder, the better. I want to . . . not think.”
“Then we’ve come to the right place.” The music changed from a thumping instrumental to the familiar beat of one of my favorite P!nk songs. Corey grinned at me as I jumped to my feet.
“We are so dancing.”
The dance floor was crowded, but I found a spot big enough for the two of us. We shimmied and gyrated, both of us grooving and wiggling our asses, happy to be young and healthy and away from the pressure cooker that was the kitchen at The Garden Board. A couple of other women joined us, and we all four sang along at the top of our lungs, not caring one single fuck about being in tune or knowing every word exactly.
A guy with black hair that hung nearly to his shoulders bounced over to stand behind Corey, grinning down her. She raised one eyebrow to me, and then giggled when he took hold of her hips, matching their movements so that he was basically grinding her ass. He murmured something into her ear, and she nodded before miming to me that they were going to get a drink.
“Hey.” The voice at my own ear was close and intimate. I felt the brush of warm breath down my neck and shivered.
Turning my head slightly, I took in the dude who stood behind me, his eyes boring into mine. He was a good head taller than me, and his shoulders were broad, filling out the dark dress shirt that stretched over his chest. The shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, but just so that it was sexy without being nasty.
His hair was short enough that I could guess his occupation, but what I saw of it seemed to be dark blond. His eyes were a deep and fathomless brown, and they were definitely interested in me.
To his credit, though, I noticed that his gaze didn’t dip down to take in the cleavage this dress showcased, or the curve of my ass, also highlighted, or length of my legs below the short hemline.
He bent his head to speak into my ear again. “Want to dance?”
I tilted my head and turned so that I could see him better. “I thought I was dancing.”
One side of that wide mouth curled up. “I mean, do you want to dance with me?”
I narrowed my eyes, checking him out and not making any attempt to hide it as my eyes roamed down his muscled arms and his flat abs to the fly of his jeans. I could tell three things right off the bat after my unapologetic perusal: one, he was definitely a soldier. Two, he had a body built for fun. And three, I could do some serious damage of the best kind tonight with what he had to offer me.
Yeah, he was exactly who and what I needed tonight.
With all of that in mind, I stepped closer to him, making sure the tips of my boobs pressed into that chiseled chest. I looped my hands up around his neck and lifted my eyes to his, letting my eyelids droop a little as I licked my lips and smiled.
“Is it really just a dance you’re asking me for?”
He studied me for a moment without speaking. Something akin to desire flickered for a second in those brown eyes, but I couldn’t spot the insta-lust I’d anticipated. He circled my waist with his arms, but his hands didn’t stray down to my ass as I’d hoped.
Dipping his mouth close to my ear again, he murmured his answer in a soft, low voice.
“I’m not limiting any of our options, sugar. But let’s start with a dance and see where that leads.”
I raised one eyebrow. “I think that works for me. Show me what you got.”
This time, he gave me the full-on smolder, accompanied by a grin. “Honey, if I show you what I got here and now, you’d have to fight off the other women with a stick.”
Throwing back my head to laugh, I pressed a little closer to him. “I meant your dance moves, stud. It takes a strong man to get down to P!nk.”
“Nothing to it at all.” So saying, he slid his hands to my hips and began swinging his own in a move that somehow enhanced his obvious masculinity. Charmed, I started to really get into it, enjoying the simple pleasure of rocking out to music with a guy who showed tremendous promise.
The song ended, seguing into a slow number by Miranda Lampert, and he drew me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I stretched my neck back to smile up into his eyes.
“You’re pretty smooth.” I let my fingers play with the short hairs at the back of his neck. “Do you have a name, slick?”
He smiled, his lips curving up in a way that was somehow both sweet and sexy. “I do. I’m Jake Robinson. What about you?”
“Harper Drummond.” I tilted my head. “You’re stationed at Fort Lee?”
“Sure am. What gave me away?”
“Might’ve been the haircut.” I shrugged. “Or maybe I’m just that good at guessing things.”
“Ah. Maybe that’s it.” He rubbed his hands down my back, and I shivered. “Are you local?”
I nodded. “I live in Petersburg, and I work at a restaurant just a little beyond there.” I paused a beat before adding, “I’m a chef there.”
“Hey, that’s really cool. I always thought it sounded like a fun job.”
“Fun?” I shook back my hair a little and grimaced. “Not sure that’s the word I’d use. High-pressure, intense, crazy . . . the kind of environment that makes you want to slit your wrists one moment and then two minutes later, you feel like you can do no wrong. Until you do, and everyone acts like it’s the end of the world.”
“Really? Wow. Consider my bubble burst. I guess I’m crossing go to chef school off my bucket list.” Jake raised both his eyebrows as he gazed down at me.
“Sorry.” I let my fingers drift down toward the collar of his shirt. “This is my night off. My first night off in over two weeks. I knew I needed to let off some steam, but I guess it’s a little worse than I thought.”
“It’s okay, I get it.” He gave me a crooked smile that sent a zing of lust shooting down between my legs. “My job can be a little insane at times, too.”
“I guess so.” I didn’t mention that I knew any other soldiers from Fort Lee. The last thing I needed was for anyone here—especially the guy I planned to bounce on tonight—to connect me to Max Remington. Not that I didn’t like Max; I did, and the fact that he’d made my best friend Samantha so blissfully happy made him tops in my book. But he was also a straight-arrow, the kind of man who saw things in black and white, with very few shades of gray. If he heard through the grapevine that I was routinely banging random hotties in a series of hook’em up and set’em free one-night stands, he would freak the hell out. Sometimes he acted like he was the second big brother I never wanted, scolding me about locking my doors, warning me to be careful when I had to drive home from the restaurant late at night, and offering to introduce me to ‘good’ guys he knew from his battalion. Somehow, Max was under the impression that I was looking for happily-ever-after, when the truth was that I was really only interested in happy-for-one-night.
Which brought me back to the task at hand. The night wasn’t getting any younger, and I wanted to make sure Jake Robinson was on the same page I was. He was smokin’ hot, and I had some seriously wicked ideas about how the two of us could spend the next four or five hours.
“You have the most amazing eyes.” He spoke before I could, but his words took me aback. He wasn’t talking a
bout my ass or my rack; he was complimenting my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time any guy had done that. It was usually something more like, “You’ve got a really sexy body.” Or maybe, “You’re so hot.” All nice to hear, sure, but after a while, that didn’t mean so much.
“Thank you.” I glanced down, uncharacteristically flustered.
“Hey.” Jake touched my chin and tilted my face back up. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
“Not at all.” I stared into his face and felt something within me twang like a well-tuned guitar. “But I think I’d like to do . . . this.”
Standing on my toes, I touched my lips experimentally to his, just to check for reaction. I needed to see if the chemistry between us was real and attraction I was feeling was legit. The minute our mouths met, something big and deep gave way inside me, and I groaned. The floor under me seemed to shift as though the earth was quaking. Need and lust surged so fast that I forgot where we were and all the people around us.
Jake slanted his head, urging me to open for him, and answered me with strong, steady thrusts of his tongue that I felt in every nerve of my body. He was tasting me, I realized, testing the waters just as I’d been doing. I hoped he was intrigued as I was.
When he let me go, I almost fell over, trying to catch my breath. Somehow, I managed a smile. “That was . . . pretty much perfect. But I’m a little warm now. Want to grab a drink?”
“Sure.” He dropped one hand from my waist and slid the other to the small of my back, guiding me around the grooving bodies on the dance floor, through the tables adjacent to it and over to the bar. “What’ll you have?”
I lifted one shoulder. “I’m easy. Whatever you’re having, unless it’s something with Grand Marnier.” I wrinkled up my nose. “I hate that taste.”
Jake laughed. “Duly noted. How about a beer?”
“Absolute perfection.”
“My thoughts exactly.” He smiled down at me as he said it, as though he weren’t talking about booze at all. A warmth kindled somewhere in my middle and spread out over my body. It was a little unfamiliar: not straight lust or desire, but something strangely more. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.
Zone of Action: A Career Soldier Military Romance Page 2
