‘And whatever you’re having. Are you due a break soon?’ He stood straight up at the bar, not leaning on it as most of the other customers did. In his dark jacket and white open-neck shirt, he looked the epitome of the ‘hotshot lawyer who’d worked late’.
Mya blinked rapidly. She was due for her break, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to have it with him around. She felt as if she was missing something about this. It was almost as if he thought she’d been expecting him. ‘It’s pretty busy.’
‘But that stag party has left so now’s a good time, right? Let me get you a drink.’
‘I don’t dri—’
‘Water, soda, juice,’ he listed effortlessly. ‘There are other options.’ He countered her no-drinking-on-the-job argument before she’d even got it out.
Good grief. Surely he wasn’t hitting on her? No way—the guy had never noticed her before.
These days Mya was used to being hit on—she worked in a bar after all. The guys there were usually drinking alcohol, so inevitably their minds turned to sex after a time. Any woman would do; it wasn’t that she was anything that special. Naturally they tried it on, and naturally she knew how to put them off. She deliberately dressed in a way that wouldn’t invite attention; her plain vee-neck black tee minimised her boobs and the apron tucked round her hips covered most of her thighs in her black jeans. She did wear the platforms, but the extra couple of inches helped her ability to look customers in the eye.
She still had to look up to Brad. And right now he was looking into her eyes as if there were nothing and no one else in the room to bother with. Yeah, he was good at making a woman feel as if she were everything in his world. Very good.
‘I’ll have some water,’ she muttered. There was zero alcohol in her system but she really needed to sober up. Not to mention cool down. She swallowed, determined to employ some easy bartender-to-customer-type conversation. ‘Been a while since I’ve seen you. What have you been up to?’
‘I’ve been busy with work.’
Of course, he was reputedly amazing in the courtroom, but she bet his work wasn’t all he’d been busy with. The guy was legendary even at school. She and Lauren had been there a full five years after him and there’d been talk of his slayer skills. Lauren had been mega popular with all the older girls because they wanted to get to him through her.
‘You need to get away from the bar to have a break,’ he said once she’d set his drink in front of him.
Actually she quite liked that giant block of wood between them. She’d thought herself well over that teen crush, but all it had taken was that one look from him and she was all saucy inside. But there was a compelling glint in his eyes, and somehow she didn’t manage to refuse.
As he shepherded her through the crowd, she steeled herself against the light brush of his hand on her back. She was not feeling remotely feminine next to his tall, muscled frame. She was not enjoying the bulldozer effect and seeing everyone clear out of his path and him guiding her through as if she were some princess to be protected. Surely she couldn’t be that pathetic?
The balcony was darker and quieter. Of course he’d know where to find the most intimate place in an overcrowded venue. She pressed her back against the cold wall. She preferred to be able to keep an eye on the punters, and it gave her unreliable muscles some support. But in a second she realised it was a bad idea because Brad now towered in front of her. Yeah, he was all she could see and there was no way of getting around him easily.
The loud rhythm of the music was nothing on the frantic beat of her pulse in her ears. But he must be used to it—women blushing and going breathless in his company. She hoped he didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary.
‘Will you excuse me a sec?’ she said briskly. ‘I just need to check a couple of messages.’
‘Sure.’
She slipped her hand into her pocket, needing to fill in a few of her fifteen minutes and catch her breath. Besides, the imp in her wanted to know Lauren’s reaction to the photo she’d sent. But there were no messages at all—which was odd given Lauren’s tech-addiction. She frowned at the phone.
‘Did you need to make a call?’ he asked quietly.
‘Do you mind? It won’t take a second.’ And it would fill in a few more of the fifteen minutes.
‘Go for it.’ Brad lifted his glass and sipped.
Mya turned slightly towards the wall and made the call.
‘What did you think?’ she quietly asked as soon as Lauren answered.
‘Think of what?’
‘The pic,’ Mya mumbled into the phone, turning further away so Lauren’s big, bad brother couldn’t hear. ‘I sent it a couple of hours ago.’
‘What picture?’
‘The pic.’ Mya’s heart drummed faster. She glanced at Brad. Standing straight in front of her—a little too close. His eyes flicked up from her body to her face. She didn’t want him listening, but now she’d looked at him, she couldn’t look away. Not when she’d seen that look in his eyes. It wasn’t just maple syrup now. It was alight with something else.
‘I haven’t received any pic. What was it of?’ Lauren laughed.
‘But I sent it,’ Mya said in confusion. She’d heard that whooshing sound when the message had gone. ‘You must have got it.’
‘Nup, nada.’
Mya’s blood pounded round her body. Sweltering, she tried to think. Because if that message hadn’t gone to Lauren, then to whom had it gone?
She stared up at the guy standing closer than he ought and gradually became aware of a change in him. His eyes weren’t just alive with the maple-syrup effect; no, now they were lit with unholy amusement. Why—?
Impossible.
The heat of anticipation within Mya transformed to horror in less than a heartbeat. And to make it worse, Brad suddenly smiled, hell, his shoulders actually shook—was the guy laughing at her?
‘I definitely haven’t got it,’ Lauren warbled on. ‘But I’m glad you rang because I haven’t seen you in …’
Mya zoned out from Lauren, remembering the rush in the change room, the way she’d been giggling and not concentrating, the way her fingers had slipped over the screen …
No. Please no.
Lauren’s voice and the noise from the bar all but disappeared, as if she’d dived into a swimming pool and could hear only muted, warped sound. Her stunned brain slowly cranked through the facts while the rest of her remained locked in the heat of his gaze.
Her contacts list automatically defaulted to alphabetical order. She’d never deleted all the contacts already on it either—and it was an old phone of Lauren’s. No doubt her brother’s number had been programmed in a long, long time ago. And B came before L. So first in the phone list?
Davenport. Brad Davenport.
CHAPTER TWO
MYA ignored the fact that Lauren was still babbling in her ear and jabbed the phone, shutting it down. She shoved it back in her pocket and tossed her head to get her fringe out of her eyes. ‘It seems my phone’s died,’ she said with exaggerated effervescence. ‘Can I borrow yours?’
Brad’s silent chuckle became a quick, audible burst before he summoned the control to answer. ‘Really?’
She nodded vehemently, pretending she couldn’t feel the rhythmic vibrating against her thigh.
‘But your phone is ringing.’
Yeah, there was no pretending she couldn’t hear the shrill squawks over the beat of the bar music.
‘What is that?’
‘It’s a recording of dolphins talking to each other,’ she answered brightly before hitting him with a bald-faced lie. ‘But while my ringer is working, the person on the other end can’t hear me.’
‘Maybe you hit mute.’
‘Look, can I use it?’ She dropped all pretence at perky and spoke flatly. Oh, she wanted to curl into a ball and roll behind a rock. Now. This was why he was here tonight. What had he thought? Surely he hadn’t thought the picture was meant for him and he’d come to her?
As if she’d called him?
Mya bit back hysterical laughter. Teen Mya would have loved Brad Davenport to hunt her down for a hookup. Adult Mya had learned to avoid sharks. And of all the people she had to mistakenly send a picture to, it had to be her best friend’s brother? Her best friend’s completely gorgeous, speed-through-a-million-sexual-partners brother?
Brad held her gaze captive with his warm, amused one. ‘But my phone cost a lot of money and I don’t like the way you’re holding that glass of water. I don’t think my phone can survive the depths.’
Was the guy a mind-reader? Of course she wanted to drown the thing—she’d drown Brad himself if she could. Or better still, herself.
How could she have made such a mistake? This ranked as the most mortifying moment of her life. Why had she gone with the scarlet bikini with the see-through sides?
‘How come you have my number anyway?’ he asked lazily, confirming the worst.
‘This was an old phone of Lauren’s.’ Mya groaned. ‘She passed it on to me.’
‘One of the ones she lost and made Dad replace?’
Hell, that would be right. For a while there Lauren had made her father pay—literally. ‘She told me he’d given her a new one and she didn’t need this one any more.’ She didn’t like the frown in Brad’s eyes.
Yeah, she was the bad influence, wasn’t she? The one who came from the wrong side of the tracks to lead Lauren astray. Did he think she abused her relationship with Lauren to get things? Lauren’s parents had thought that. Indeed, Lauren had tried to give Mya things. Mya had refused to take most of them. The little she had, she’d hidden from her own parents. She didn’t want them feeling bad that they couldn’t afford those kinds of gifts—indeed any. Even then Lauren had tricked her into taking this phone and she’d taken nothing since.
And now? Now there was no dignity left in this situation. ‘Would you please delete it?’ she asked. Yeah, begging already.
‘Never.’
Incredibly, his instant laughing response melted her but she couldn’t be flattered by this. She just couldn’t. ‘It wasn’t meant for you.’
‘More’s the pity,’ he said softly. ‘Do you often text pictures of yourself in underwear to your friends?’
‘It wasn’t underwear,’ she said indignantly.
His chin lifted and the sound of his laughter rang out, crashing and curling over her like a wave of warmth. ‘It’s a bra.’
But Mya couldn’t float in that tempting sea. ‘It’s a bikini.’
He shook his head, his brown eyes teasing. ‘Sorry, Mya. It’s a bra.’
She was still too mortified to be teased. ‘I was in a swimwear store. I wanted Lauren’s opinion on it. It was a bikini.’
‘There were see-though bits.’ He gestured widely and half shrugged. ‘There was underwire. Looked like a bra to me.’
‘You’d know because you’ve seen so many?’ She tried to bite, but felt her blush rise higher.
‘Sure,’ he chuckled. ‘And for the record, yes, you can definitely get away with it.’
Brad watched Mya closely and couldn’t bring himself to take the polite step back despite knowing the doll was embarrassed beyond belief. But no way in hell was he ever deleting that image. She was gorgeous—far more gorgeous than he’d realised. The picture had been the teaser, but seeing her like this now? All flushed and snappy, pocket-sized but bright-eyed—he was beyond intrigued.
Her hair was swept into a ponytail. Now he remembered the colour had frequently changed. She and Lauren had spent for ever in Lauren’s room, giggles emanating as they did outrageous things to their hair. Though right now, instead of hot pink and purple, Mya’s hair colour looked almost natural—a light brown with slightly blonde streaks round the front. Her wickedly high cheekbones created sharp planes sloping down to that narrow little chin. Those teeth and that impish smile broke the perfection, yet were perfect themselves. The all-black ensemble was unusual for her but it didn’t hide her body. Despite her slender limbs and pixie face, she wasn’t boyishly slim. Her jeans were painted on, and the apron around her hips didn’t wholly hide her curvy butt. As for those breasts … Plumped up by the bikini/bra in the picture, they’d been so bountiful they’d spilled over the edges. Now, disguised under that plain black tee, their silhouette was minimised. But no simple cotton covering could fully hide the softness that seemed sinfully generous in proportion to her small stature.
His heart drummed a triumphant beat. Blood pulsed, priming muscles. Because he’d seen the way she’d looked at him—the flash she hadn’t been able to hide when he’d first walked into the bar. There’d been that pull, that instinctive reaction. He knew the signs—the second glances, small smiles, the heightened colour. The sparkle in the eyes, the parting of the lips. Brad Davenport also knew his worth. He knew he had a body that attracted a second glance—oh, and the cynic in him knew most women would never forget his trust fund. So he was used to being wanted and he knew when a woman wanted him.
Now the tip of her tongue briefly touched that too-wide top lip and then she bit back her smile. Yeah, she still had that gap between her two front teeth.
With just a look she’d had those stag-party guys competing to catch her close and hold her. Only she’d held them off with a few words and a hint of fire. And he wasn’t thinking of the lighter flame.
Brad’s entire body was on fire, and for the second time that night he gave in to impulse. He took her glass from her and put it on the table next to his.
‘What are you doing?’ A breathless squeak.
‘We’re old friends,’ he said softly. ‘We should greet each other properly.’
‘I wouldn’t have said we were friends.’ Her voice wobbled.
He smiled at the sound. He’d stirred a small response from her, but he wanted more. And he was used to winning what he wanted. Before she could say anything more, he stepped close and caught her mouth with his.
She instantly tensed, but he kept it light. When the stiff surprise ebbed from her body—pleasingly quickly—he lifted his head a fraction and stepped closer at the same time. He flicked his tongue to feel her soft lips, tracing their uneven length, and then sealing his to hers again and tasting the delight inside her mouth. And then she kissed him back and that fire exploded. Man, Mya Campbell was a hell of a lot hotter than he’d ever thought possible.
For a split second Mya wondered if she were dreaming. Then the heat blasted into her and she knew not even her imagination could come up with this. She held her head up without even realising—no thought of pushing him away. Because the guy did wicked things with his tongue—sweeping it between her lips. Deeper and deeper again. Caressing her mouth as if it were the most delicious pleasure. She softened, opening more. And he stepped closer, taking more, giving so much more.
His chest pressed into hers. She could feel how broad and strong he was. It was a damn good thing she had the wall behind her—she was sandwiched between two solid forces and it was utterly exquisite. His mouth was rapacious now. His body insistent. Like yin and yang—hard versus the soft. And yet there was tension in her body too, that fierce need for physical fulfilment unfurling inside.
She slid her hand over his abs, the heat of him blazing through the white cotton shirt. She could feel those taut muscles and shivered at the thought of them working hard above her, beneath her—every way towards pleasure.
Her rational mind spun off into the distance while her senses took centre stage, demanding all her attention. She all but oozed into him, utterly malleable, his to twist and tease. And he did—grinding against her, kissing her mouth, her jaw, her neck and back to her mouth. She threaded her fingers through his hair, opening yet more for him.
His hand slid to the curve of her hip, lower still to her butt. He spread his fingers, pulling her hips closer to the heat of his—so she could feel his response even more. A moan escaped as she felt his thick erection pressing against her belly. So hot, so soon, this was just so crazy.
Bu
t all thought vanished as his other hand slid up from her waist, cupping her breast. She momentarily tensed, anticipating the pain—she was too sensitive for touch there. But his fingers stilled, not following through on their upward sweep; a half-second later he moved again to cup her soft flesh, avoiding her nipple. Good thing, as both were overloading already just with the pressure of his chest against hers. She relaxed against him again as she realised he somehow understood. Instead he pressed deeper—his tongue laying claim to her mouth, his body almost imprinting on hers.
And despite this oh-so-thorough kiss, she wanted so much more than this.
She moved restlessly—tiny rocking motions of her hips. It was all she could manage given how hard he was pinning her to the wall. But with every small movement she drew closer and closer to the hit of ecstasy that she suddenly needed more than anything else in the world.
It wasn’t a kiss; it was a siege—he’d encircled her and demanded her surrender. It hadn’t taken her long to cave at all. Her fingers curled instinctively into his cotton shirt as wicked tension gripped her. Almost at breaking point—the convulsions of ecstasy were a mere breath away.
‘Excuse me!’
Mya froze and she felt Brad’s arms go equally rigid. She pulled back and met his eyes—he looked as startled as she felt.
‘Mya, you’re way over your break time.’ Drew, her boss, snapped right beside her. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
All but stupefied, Mya turned and stared at her boss. She literally didn’t know. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t answer. She was still trying to process the chemical reaction that had ignited every cell while in Brad’s embrace. But as she looked at the extreme irritation on Drew’s face, reality rushed back. Her boss was furious. Panic slammed the door shut on the remaining good vibes—she couldn’t afford to lose this job. What on earth had she been thinking?
‘Drew, I’m so sorry,’ she said in a breathless rush, stepping further away from Brad. ‘I wasn’t aware of the time. I didn’t—’
Blame it on the Bikini Page 2
