Because You Want Me (Falling for You, Book One)

by Ava Claire

  And then I saw her.

  My fantasy of screwing as many hot women that I could get my hands on faded into the annoying trance music that filled my ears. Everything else became an annoying buzz that didn't compare to the hypnotic pull of the brunette standing near the lockers.

  She looked delicious. Legs that went on for miles. Legs that I wanted wrapped around my waist—or spread wide. Two inches shorter and the sultry black dress would have been a shirt. My cock throbbed as I admired the way it skimmed her slender waist and clutched her hips. It ran out of fabric just where it was supposed to. Petite breasts attempted to spill out of the top, her skin glowing in the dim light.

  I took a step forward but something in her stance made me pause. That wasn't a ‘come hither’ in the way she stood. Her body was locked in the tense, starting block pose of someone that was about to run for their life.

  Her head turned and she saw me watching her and went still as a statue. A drop dead gorgeous statue that rumbled to life as I advanced toward her. It was like some curtain had been pulled and the lights flashed on as she raised her chin and rolled back her shoulders.

  It was a valiant effort, but I could tell when someone was putting on a show. Usually, I had no patience for games. No time for them—I made it very clear up front who I was and who I was not. But there was something intriguing about her. An innocence that glittered in the grunge of a sex club.

  So instead of heeding the lust that had me swollen, aching to push her against the lockers and hike up her skirt, I smiled instead.

  “Hi.” Just one word. It felt heavy and as airy as the smoke that hung in a fog around us. I wanted to clear it all out. With this woman, I didn't want the lights out. I wanted to see every beautiful inch of her.

  The lust dripped from the word and she heard it and answered in kind, biting her lip for a millisecond before she released it and gave me a once over with eyes as alluring as the hair that spilled past her shoulders.

  When she drew closer to me, I had to force the smile that wanted to own my lips to play it cool. There was nothing but fire in my veins when she pressed her chest against me, her face upturned and mine to admire. She was striking in a way that left me breathless. She had a dainty but stubborn chin. Her full, thick lips shone with a pink gloss that made me want to ravage her. My eyes took in her petite nose, nostrils flaring as I wondered what thoughts were running through her mind. And those eyes—I realized they weren’t brown at all. They were a rich hazel, flickering with gold, filled with a passion that made me feel like I was the one on display. Like I was the one being hunted.

  She leaned in and her hair smelled like strawberries and summer. I bit back a growl of want when her lips brushed my ear.

  “Hi yourself.”

  She stepped backward, leaving me wanting, needing more. Before I could say something clever or do something bold like pull her back to me and kiss her, she walked away.

  I watched her, stunned, as she faded into the smoke. The slim corridor seemed to vibrate around me, the lockers creaking like they were leaning in, just as enraptured by this mystery women as I was.

  If you're smart, you'll let her go. Tonight wasn't about wooing. That was for the morning. My assistant, Caitlyn, had already lined up several potential matches that I'd be interviewing in between my meetings.

  Tomorrow was for conversation. Tonight was for moans.

  But my feet pulled me in her direction, questions firing one after the other in my head. Who was she? Why was she here when she so clearly didn't want to be? What would she taste like when I kissed her?

  When...not if. Because I had no idea what tomorrow held, but I wasn't leaving this club without kissing her.

  The rest of the people at the club barely registered on my radar. A couple pawed at each other in the doorway. A woman here, guys scattered there and everywhere. I didn't know if the music was hypnotizing me or if I was under some spell, but I studied her. The way she turned something as simple as walking into a dance that beckoned me to follow her lead.

  The place was a maze and she navigated it like she knew the waters well. The Red Door Club had all the class you'd expect. I had a feeling the darkness was intended to hide the disrepair as much as ambience. Strobe lights flickered across monochrome walls.

  She strutted into a room with a glass bar area that was just a tease. There was no alcohol served here, just water and soda, but the woman threw back a Sprite like it was a shot of tequila.

  “Where have you been all my life?”

  The high pitched, slightly slurred pick up line came from behind me. I pried my eyes from the bar and faced the petite blonde who slumped against the doorway. She clearly had a few drinks before she came to the club or brought the party with her. She fit the bill of what I usually went for—she even dropped her baby blue eyes to my crotch and licked her blood red lips. I normally would have found the corny introduction and boldness that radiated from her charming. Sexy as hell. There was something to be said about a woman who cut to the chase. My usual disclaimer would have been unnecessary because the look in her pale eyes told me she was searching for something hard, sinfully memorable, and temporary.

  “There's this room downstairs-”

  “Let me stop you right there,” I cut her off with the most genial smile I could muster. The smoke must have been doing something to my head, because I was turning down exactly what I'd come here for. “You seem great, but I have my eye on someone else.”

  She let out a huff of annoyance and tossed her gaze around the room. Most people were partnered off or hovering around someone interesting. Everyone but my brunette in the black dress. She landed on her and her eyes bulged from her skull.

  “Her?” Complete and utter shock dripped from the word—and a disdain that told me they knew each other and were far from friends.

  I didn't owe the blonde an explanation and I didn't know the mystery woman at all, but I felt a sudden urge to protect her. To not only claim her but to let the fuming, jilted frenemy know that she didn't stand a chance.

  “Isn't she gorgeous?” I beamed. I didn't wait for an answer, heading toward the brunette just as she turned in our direction. She looked past me to the other woman, then back at me, then back at her. Her eyes widened in surprise as she followed my path to the stool beside hers.

  Her brow furrowed in the cutest way. “You must be lost.”

  “I'm right where I'm supposed to be,” I answered smoothly. It sounded like a line. She frowned like it sounded like a line...but something inside me whispered that it was more. I wanted more from this woman. Luckily, the volume of the music intensified, drowning that crazy talk out.

  She gave me another once over, this one decidedly less sexy than the first. “Designer jeans-”

  “A keen eye for fashion,” I winked, anticipating whatever biting jab she was about to throw my way.

  She gestured at herself like a game show presenter who was sick of smiling that Colgate smile. “This is my sister's dress. I have the exact opposite of a keen eye for fashion. Now Lara on the other hand-”

  When I raised an eyebrow-Who the hell is Lara?-she tilted her head in the direction of the doorway. The blonde I'd passed on was still standing there, shooting daggers at my head.

  “She's very into fashion,” she explained. “And into you. I'm sure she'd be all about doing whatever it is you came here to do.”

  “Whatever it is I came here to do?” I repeated with a grin. “You can't even say the word.”

  She cradled her drink, avoiding my gaze for a moment. She gathered herself so she could keep pretending like she wanted to be here. “Not sure what you mean.”

  “I think you know exactly what I mean.” I leaned in like I was going to tell her a secret, but it was really just a ploy to get closer to her. Her scent, her innocence, her tireless efforts to act like she was in her element when I could see the worry in her eyes...it was intriguing and sexy as hell.

  “Fuck,” I said quietly. There was nothing quiet
or discreet about what she was doing to me. Sitting was officially uncomfortable and with one glance down, it was easy to see why. Her eyes never left mine though, my word twitching its way across her pretty features. It rounded her eyes, traced the lines in her forehead, danced across her flaring nostrils, then settled on her kiss bruised lips. She didn't repeat it, but I saw the heat rush to her cheeks. She fidgeted in her seat and I wondered how wet she was.

  She cleared her throat. “To each their own. I didn't come here for...that.”

  “What did you come here for?” I probed.

  She gave me a long, steady look. I was used to people cowering or shying from my gaze, but she knocked me off balance. With this woman, the fact that I was wealthy meant very little. She was suspicious of my charm. I'd thought the husky whisper when her lips brushing against my ear earlier was her way of showing she was interested, but she was an enigma. One moment she was biting her lip like she was struggling to suppress a moan, and the next she was looking right through me.

  She ignored my question. “What do you want?”

  I could have played the game a few more minutes, charmed a smile out of her. I decided to go with honesty. “I want to take you downstairs and make you forget any and everything but me...and all the ways I’m gonna fuck you.”

  Chapter Three: Penny

  I'd clearly lost my mind.

  It must have been the fog of delirium that choked out all rational thought. It turned our surroundings into something ethereal and mysterious. Stripped down, The Red Door Club was just a warehouse, sectioned off into rooms that I wouldn't want to see under a UV light. But the bar was sultry, multicolored and unfortunately, little more than decoration, vases glittering behind the glass. The music that had been annoying from the door had grown on me, pairing well with the stage and a sleek, stripper’s pole that stretched to the ceiling. Stripper’s poles weren't supposed to be sleek. And guys with impossibly good looks and bright eyes that made my world spin off its axis weren’t supposed to choose me over girls that looked like Lara. Girls who filled out their dresses and demanded attention.

  But he shot Lara down. And if I didn't know any better, I'd say that he was into me.

  And then moans fluttered in from the hallway and I remembered.

  Right.

  Sex club.

  He's not into you. He wants to screw you.

  Any other night I'd be able to put aside that voice that wondered why I wasn't enough. I'd be secure in my accomplishments, comfortable in my skin. But this weekend was filled with all the ghosts from my past. Memories of how I'd look at my sister, with her lean legs and arms like mine, but with hips and boobs that I was lacking. How all the features that made people whisper how beautiful my mother and father and sister were ended up being exaggerated on me. All my faults were broadcasted—too skinny, nose almost perfect, lips a shy too big, eyes just a smudge too large. Almost beautiful.

  Cute enough to land a couple of dead end boyfriends. Cute enough to screw. Finding someone that wanted more? Not so much.

  But this stranger didn't know that I was pretending to be someone that I wasn't. Someone that was confident. Who could take or leave him as a lover. He didn't know that I was the silly girl that was sitting at an alcohol-less bar in a sex club, hoping that the sexiest guy in the place—hell, the sexiest guy I'd ever seen period—would want to wine and dine me before we got to the part where we ripped off each other's clothes.

  I felt his gaze devouring me slowly, but I pretended I didn't. I pretended we had all the time in the world, lazily twirling my straw around my glass. His plans for me hung in the air unanswered, and it took everything in me to not clap my hands together with glee before I leapt into his arms and let him take me somewhere. Anywhere really. Right on the bar. On the stage. Or downstairs...

  I surrendered and glanced in his direction. Not a good idea. Those eyes were dangerous. They were the kind of green you could get lost in and do all sorts of things you'd regret in the morning. “Let me get this straight. You want me to let you fuck me? Just like that?”

  A smile teased its way across his handsome face. “Well, not just like that.” He reached for me and my body weakly, traitorously, leaned toward toward him—but he just fondled one of my tresses, lifting the honey brown strand like it was something delicate.

  And after he's done with you, he'll crush your heart beneath his feet.

  He broke contact, his gaze flickering over my face and settling on my mouth. “From the moment our eyes met in the hall this began.”

  “This?” I said softly, giving in for the briefest moment. Letting my guard down.

  “That's right.” His voice filled the air around me, thick and rich. It just heightened my dreamlike state, especially when his touch returned to me, this time his fingertips stroking my jaw. “And then, I made the first move.” In case I wasn't there and didn't remember how he turned a greeting into foreplay, he recounted the moment. “I said hello.”

  I barely had any clothes on, but I felt my temperature rising. The heat that radiated from him beat down on me and even though my sense of self preservation told me to scoot off the stool and run for my life, I basked in the warmth. I played with fire. “If I'm remembering correctly, I said ‘Hi yourself’ and walked away.”

  “Accuracy is essential.” Before I could comment that he couldn't be drop dead gorgeous and using big words in my fragile state of mind, he pushed me to the edge, leaning in, cheek to cheek. I counted every second. One—he smelled like heaven. A masculine mixture of citrus and the woods just after it rained. Two—how was it possible that just the mere act of him breathing was sexy? That every breath that rippled from his body through mine made me ache? Three—I would compare every other kiss to his, and I knew I'd come up wanting every time.

  He blazed a trail to my ear. Four-

  “Hi yourself,” he breathed lustily into my ear.

  He pulled back and I nearly jumped his bones right there before I caught myself. I ripped my eyes from him, waving for another soda, clearing my throat to cover the fact that I was having trouble breathing because at the moment, I was wondering why I was fighting so hard to stop what felt so right.

  The bartender slid over and refilled my cup with Sprite, giving me a look that said what my vagina had been saying for the past thirty minutes. Just sleep with him already! She turned her triple D's in his direction, adding her own P.S. Or I will.

  I peeked over at him, totally expecting him to be sizing her up. In her leather bustier, it was hard not to stare. But he was just watching me. Studying me. Like he was breaking down the equation, step by step, and any moment he'd get the solution.

  When he swept a hand through his dark locks, I bit my lip when I saw the way his forearms moved in the dark, muscular and strong. I wanted him to lift me, throw me over his shoulder and take me to one of those rooms, whether I wanted to or not. Every part of me wanted him, even my head that stubbornly put its foot down. “You can't look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” He said with an innocence that was guilty as sin.

  “Like it's just a matter of time until you have me.”

  I didn't realize that I was clutching my glass until he plucked it from my hands and put it back on the bar. My retort got lost somewhere and I barely had time to sputter, to be offended, before he gave me a look so sure, so confident, so stunning that I just listened.

  “Let's be clear. I'm a gentleman. I don't take what I want. And I don't chase women-”

  “Then why are you here?” I bit off. It was too easy to glare him down, conjure up broken promises and the hollowness when someone I cared about told me I was great but he didn't like me 'like that'. This guy hadn't done anything more than show interest in me and my side eye was locked and loaded. This time, when I heard moans, felt the room fill with another single woman with a guy in hot pursuit, I wasn't invigorated. It was sobering.

  Was he hot? Absolutely. Was I just going to drop my panties because he wanted me? I wanted my an
swer to be a single word. To be so sure that this time when I walked away I wasn't secretly hoping he'd follow.

  I felt the contradiction brewing inside me and instead of just storming off, I gave it to him straight. “This may sound strange considering we're in a sex club, but I'm sick and tired of feeling like I'm disposable. Sure, we can go downstairs and lose ourselves for half an hour.” He cocked an eyebrow and my core throbbed with want. With a single eyebrow, he gave me a look at all the ways he would turn me out. Make me moan. Make me beg...and half an hour wouldn't cut it. “Jesus Christ.”

  I reluctantly stole away—finding my reflection in the mirror that stretched behind the bar. I refused to retreat to him, his silhouette alone tripping me up. I didn't see the bartender, using her weapons on a more than willing guy who was practically climbing over the glass top to get to her. The disco ball that glittered above the stage no longer hypnotized me. The music was barely a hum compared to the thunder of my heart. The multicolored couches that held the memories of the countless beautiful, horny people that had cycled in and out of this place was just a jarring reminder of how I didn't belong here.

  “I'm going to be more honest with you than I should be. I figure, you're going to realize that I'm not worth the headache and stalk off to find someone that is, but at least I can say that for once, I was real with someone other than my therapist.” I stabbed at my drink, the ice clinking angrily. “I was on my way out the door when I saw you. Running away, because that's what I've done since...well, always.” I really, really wanted something alcoholic, but I settled for a chunk of ice, crunching on it and swallowing the shards to fight the heat of ‘Omgomg you're about to tell your sad life story to some hot guy who just wants to give you a night worth remembering—just shut up and screw him!’

  “My sister's best friend has read one too many romance novels and thought it would be a hoot to switch it up and hold a bachelorette party at a sex club,” I explained glumly. “My sister's getting married in two days and these precious last days of single-ness are supposed to be all about her, right? Except I've been making myself small and invisible and I'm just exhausted. I don't even know you and you don't know me, but I can tell you if my sister knew me she'd know that my ex cheated on me at places just like this and my reluctance to get my freak on has nothing to do with not being a team player. She never would have even asked it of me.” I couldn't bear to look at him. To look over and see those intense eyes wide with disbelief or disgust. I looked at my eyes instead. No amount of smoke was able to hide the tears that blurred my view. “So, I'm back here, back with a family I avoid because I want to be seen. I want to be me. But I'm right back to hiding; wearing my sister's dress, pretending that we were bonding when she straightened my hair and did my makeup just like hers. And instead of leaving, I let myself pretend that I could have sex with some random, gorgeous man. But these aren't my clothes and I'm not that person, and even though the next few days are going to be torture, one night of bliss with you won't make me whole.”