by Zoe Norman
The bartender brings me my drink and I give it a stir before taking a sip. It's delicious, and the slight warmth from the alcohol soothes me almost instantly. I check my phone one more time and then put it down when I realize that Charley hasn't texted me back.
I look carefully toward the other side of the room, trying to avoid Rob's area. As I sweep my eyes over the crowd, I am immediately drawn to the rowdy boys' club at the end of the bar. I turn slightly to observe them. They seem to be a bunch of men who know each other well—and a hoard of women trying to get to know them better. I love watching human nature in action like this. It's entertaining if nothing else.
One blonde, with what can only be described as an ample bosom, is fawning over what looks to be a very handsome, very tall man. He seems to be physically trying to scoot out of her way, but he isn't making much progress. She's like a magnet. It's funny because he looks familiar somehow. I haven't seen his face yet, but there's something about him. Is it the voice? No….who would I know here? Maybe it's someone from the conference?
As I'm racking my brain for who it could be, he angles himself slightly toward me as he talks to the blonde. Oh. My. God. It's Owen.
CHAPTER NINE
Owen
I put my empty glass on the bar and attempt to get the bartender's attention for a refill. He acknowledges me but continues to work on the drink he's concocting. As I wait, I look around the busy bar. Most of the patrons are coupled up, and my group clearly dominates the small space. The bartender hands me my drink, and when I raise my head to thank him, my eyes fall on…Olivia?
“Olivia…” I murmur to no one specific.
My God, she looks hot. Like, really hot. Her hair is down in soft curls and her eye makeup is done in such a way that accentuates her beautiful blue eyes. And her lips… Mmmm, those lips. I start to salivate when I remember how she tastes, and I definitely want more.
Olivia casually looks around the room, and moments later, her eyes settle on me. Our eyes lock, and I'm mesmerized. Smiling wide, I quickly excuse myself from my group and walk up behind her. I pull out the barstool next to her and take a seat. Leaning in next to Olivia, I touch my shoulder to hers.
“I saw you checking me out,” I smirk.
Olivia chuckles softly and blushes; I melt.
She smiles up at me and bats her long eyelashes. “Who, me? Checking you out? I was just looking for the bartender.” she teases.
“Hmm, I see.” I grin. “It's nice to see you, beautiful.”
Olivia starts to fiddle with the stir stick in her drink and turns a bit in her seat, crossing her legs. “It's nice to see you too, Owen. Are those your friends?” she asks, gesturing toward my party at the end of the bar, which is now watching us intently, including a none-too-happy Monica.
“Yeah. We're kicking off the weekend here tonight. I know most of them, but the blonde...Well…I think she's looking to be the entertainment for one of them tonight,” I say as Olivia focuses in on me.
I eye Olivia up and down, drinking in her features—her sexy black dress that clings to her perfectly, her flawless skin, and her striking blue eyes that contrast with her long brunette hair. I want to reach out and touch it.
I lean in close to her. “You look downright fuckable. Please tell me you came down here looking for me. I couldn't take it if you dressed like this for someone else,” I tease, grabbing my chest and feigning heartbreak.
“Fuckable, you say? I'm assuming that's a compliment?” She raises an eyebrow at me.
I chuckle and nod.
“I actually came down here to meet my girlfriend for a drink, but unfortunately she doesn't seem to be able to make it. So instead, I'm just being that lonely girl at the bar everyone else feels sorry for.” Olivia makes an exaggerated pouty face at me and sticks out her bottom lip. I want to suck on that lip… God, she's gorgeous.
“Then you're lucky I came to your rescue. It's kind of my thing. I'm a firefighter and all. Besides, I can't have you swept up by one of these wolves at the bar. You? In that dress? Looking all...fuckable? No way,” I say, shaking my head adamantly, and her cheeks turn pink. “Now that you have me, Miss Olivia, what are you going to do with me?” I ask with a sly grin.
She tilts her head back to laugh, and I catch the faint scent of her hair. It smells delicious—a mixture of peach, pineapple, and lemon.
“I can't get over how lucky I am. It's overwhelming really,” Olivia replies sarcastically.
I lift my eyebrow, indicating that I've caught her subtle jab, and she lets out another giggle.
“Can I buy you a drink?” she asks. “It's the least I can do since you've been so complimentary to me tonight.”
I nod my head in thanks as she orders another beer for me and a second mojito for herself.
“Don't hate me for saying this, but I'm glad your friend wasn't able to make it tonight. Fate is at work again,” I say, smiling brightly.
The bartender gives us our drinks and Olivia raises her glass to toast. “To looking fuckable,” she says with a grin.
“You definitely have that one covered, beautiful,” I murmur, clinking her glass. And to me making that happen, I think to myself.
She appears to be so carefree and genuinely confident—like she has absolutely no fucking clue that she is hands down the most beautiful woman in this place.
“In all seriousness, your dress looks amazing. It would look even better in a pile on the floor of my room.” I'm purposefully cheesy just to hear her laugh again, which she does easily. She's charismatic and sexy. It's very alluring.
“Too much?” I question jokingly. “You can't tell me you've heard a better pick-up line. Don't crush me now…” I tease as she grabs my upper arm, laughing and trying not to spit out her drink.
“I am in awe of your pick-up skills. Seriously, they're fantastic,” she mocks me sarcastically. Olivia nods toward my group of friends. “I bet blondie liked it too.”
Looking over to my friends, I see Monica laughing and still mingling with them. I scowl and turn to look back at Olivia, who beckons me closer, hooking her finger toward me. I lean in close to her as she whispers, “If it makes you feel any better, I've been thinking about how much better my dress would look on the floor of your room too.”
Our lips are just an inch or so away from the other. I'm so tempted to go in for a kiss and reward her for her boldness, which is a major turn-on. Olivia leans back in her seat, recrossing her long, toned legs, brushing them against mine. The hem of her dress rides up her thigh, but she makes no move to adjust it.
Fuck. Me.
I lean in close again and smell her hair as I nuzzle my nose to her ear. “Then I suggest we go find out just what it looks like.” I place my hand on her upper thigh and rub from side to side, my fingers inching closer and closer to her inner thigh.
I know I've had a lot to drink tonight, but my proximity to her is what is truly intoxicating. After tilting my head to the side, I dart my tongue out, touching the skin on her neck. I feel her shudder, and she grins with satisfaction. I place a light kiss on her neck, just under her ear. Her flesh comes to life with goose bumps, and I know I'm having just as much of an effect on her as she is on me.
“Let's go up to your room,” I whisper hotly into her ear. “Let's finish what we started on the plane last night.”
“I don't know, Owen… Is that such a good idea?” she asks absently as she leans into me, opening up her neck as I continue to kiss and nibble at the skin between her neck and shoulder. Her breath is shallow, matching my own as my fingers continuing to explore her thigh. “Won't your friends miss you?”
I freeze. Holy shit. I've completely forgotten about Travis, about all of my friends, about the guys' weekend. Olivia's gotten me so fucking turned on, I've become “that guy”—the one who ditches his friends for a very hot piece of ass. I drop my head and run my fingers through my hair.
“Shit. I forgot about Travis,” I blurt out.
I look over toward Travis, who
has been watching me. He lifts his glass, acknowledging me, his eyes narrow with an insincere smile. He's pissed. Great.
“Shit,” I say again.
My heart sinks to my stomach, and I'm torn between what I want to do and what I should do. I want to stay here with Olivia all night, but I can't just ditch Travis. He's the whole reason I'm even here.
I turn toward Olivia and take her hands in mine. “I came here with my friends hoping to find you, and I did and now...” I say, exasperated. I watch Olivia's expression turn from amused to confused to hurt.
“I should wrap things up with the guys. Can I call you later tonight? I'm really, really sorry, Olivia. I didn't think this through if I actually did see you.” I feel like a complete and total asshole.
I'm royally fucking this up...I know it.
CHAPTER TEN
Olivia
I feel like someone threw a bucket of ice water on me and what was my quickly heating libido. Right… His friends. I was kind of kidding, but I guess he isn't. I sit up, pulling away from him a bit. I don't want to come off as a leech. How unattractive is that!? I mean, Olivia, what did you think you were going to let happen tonight anyway?
Who am I kidding? I know exactly what I was going to let—no, what I was hoping would—happen tonight. I uncross my legs and sit with my hands on my knees. He straightens, looking uncomfortable. I decide I should let him off the hook and cut my losses. I give him what doesn't feel like a genuine smile, although I sincerely hope it comes across as one.
“Hey, look. You're right. You're here with your friends. You should be hanging out with them and celebrating Travis. I'm going to go to bed anyway. It was a long day for me.” I put my hand on his upper arm as I slide off the barstool. Wow, he has big muscles. I bet he could lift me and… No. No, no, no, Olivia.
Owen looks down at where my hand is gripping his arm. His eyes linger there for a moment, and then he looks back into my eyes, letting out a huff of breath. “Olivia, shit...I'm really, really sorry,” he sighs. “I got kind of lost in talking to you and… Fuck.” He looks absolutely lost, torn, and unsure. It's really kind of cute. “I'll call you tonight, and if it's not too late, maybe I can come up for a drink, or maybe we can make plans to get together another night?” He looks so sincere that I just want to make him feel better.
I smile at him in an attempt at seeming reassuring. My heart and head tell me that he won't call tonight. That he'll get hammered with his friends, which in all fairness is what he's supposed to be doing tonight, and I'll pass out while watching a Lifetime movie. I am working hard at not coming across as a desperate woman, which is painfully difficult. Since when am I so unsure of myself?
Don't be a total loser, Olivia. I push up on my toes and kiss him sweetly on the cheek.
“Have fun tonight, Owen. Feel free to call if you'd like. If you don't, that's okay too. It was really nice running into you again.”
“Hey,” he says, stepping back a bit, “you sound like you've already written me off. Give a guy a chance. If I say I'll call, I'll call, okay?” He actually looks offended, which surprises me. I was just trying to give him an out.
“I'm sorry,” I apologize, truly meaning it. “I didn't mean to offend you or imply you were a player or anything. I just don't want you to feel obligated or stuck."
I reach out and stroke his cheek with my fingers. He leans into my touch, surprising me.
“Go have fun with your guys,” I insist. “Just not too much.” He grins at me, looking a little pleased at my directive. “Seriously, call if you can. If not, we'll catch up another night.” I lean forward and give him a peck on the cheek. As I do, I whisper, “And feel free to check out my ass while I walk away.”
I hear him sigh heavily, which makes me smile. When I sit back, he looks like a little boy who had his candy taken away. I push the stool back from the bar and stand next to him, smiling warmly.
“Goodnight, Owen.”
“Night, Olivia,” he replies.
I give a half wave and a smile to his friends, who are watching us, and I turn to walk toward the exit of the bar. As I get to the door, I turn and look back at Owen. He's watching me. I smile my most arresting smile, take a deep breath, and walk to the elevator bay, motherfucking myself the whole way.
While the elevator is moving up to my floor, my phone buzzes with a text.
I WILL call you later.
Wait for me to help you take that dress off.
I stare at the screen, shocked.
"Uh, Miss?" I hear a nervous voice behind me. “Is this your floor?"
I look up and then behind me. The doors of the elevator are open wide and the man standing next to me is looking at me expectantly.
"Oh gosh," I yelp, "he texted!" I hold up my phone as if he knows who I'm referring to before giggling and stepping off the elevator. Ha! He texted!
I'm contemplating how to respond when my phone rings. I jump, the sound jarring me from my thoughts. I look at the caller ID and see that it's Charley.
“Well, thanks for standing me up.” I scold, trying to suppress my laughter.
“God, Liv, you have no idea the night I had—or I'm about to have,” she snickers conspiratorially.
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Something seductive happen while you were changing your tire? I thought you swore off men?” I laugh.
She groans, “Oh my God, yes! The AAA guy happened, and he is H-O-T HOT!” She makes an evil sound. “He's coming back after dropping my car off at the repair shop. I am getting laid tonight, my friend.”
I chuckle, although somewhere deep inside I feel a twinge of jealousy or regret that I'm not doing the same. “Well, as surprising as it is that you've found yourself someone to spend the night with just by blowing a tire, you'll never believe what happened to me while I was waiting for you at the bar.”
“Do tell, Miss Olivia…” she says slowly, eagerly anticipating my story.
“Owen—airplane guy. At the bar. With his buddies.”
“Shut up!” she yells into the phone loud enough and shrill enough that I need to pull the phone from my ear.
I grimace. “No I will not shut up. Swear to God.”
“Please tell me you brought him to your room, Liv. Please tell me that I am talking to you while he is having his way with you.”
I sigh, “Sadly no. His friends were calling and he had to attend to the reason he was there in the first place.” I unlock my hotel door and step into the dark room, suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of loneliness.
“Olivia,” she argues, “he was there to scope you out in the first place. Don't be fooled.”
I think about that for a second. Was he honest when he said he was at the bar for the sole purpose to see me? I mean, he had at least five or six of his friends with him. That's a lot of organization just to scope me out. Nahhh. And then there's Tits McGhee who had his attention…although he did seem to look like he was eyeing an escape. He wouldn't have been doing that if he had been there waiting for me. Would he? How would I know? I don't know anything about this guy.
“I don't think so, Charley. It was just some guys hanging out at a good bar. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Oh that's what you think, but he was looking for you. I know it. And if you had played your cards right, you would be moaning with him instead of arguing with me. Why oh why, Olivia, can't you take a page from my book of sexcapades and get yourself laid! No strings, just a straight-up booty call.”
Charley, ever the optimist. “Ha ha ha, you. Well, it's not a totally lost cause. He texted me saying he wanted to see me again tonight. I'll see if he shows. He was with his friends and two hot blondes with tits the size of cantaloupes. That's not exactly something I can compete against.”
She makes an annoyed sound. “As usual, Olivia, you don't give yourself enough credit. You've got great tits.”
I make a sound indicating exaggerated mock surprise.
“Wait and see,” Charley continues. “I bet he's in your bed by the
end of the night. And if you know what's good for you, you'll call and give me all the gory details in the morning."
I assure her I'll do just that and we end our call with the promise of a coffee date before I leave. I miss being close to Charley geographically, but I'm grateful that we've maintained our friendship and that she is always there for me. I grab a single-serving bottle of white wine from the bar refrigerator in the room. I may be alone, but at least I can keep my buzz going for a bit.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Owen
I watch Olivia leave the bar, and I'm pissed as hell. I'm angry that she left. Furious that I didn't stop her from leaving. And now I'm resentful that I need to hang out with my friends when what I really want to do is put my lips all over Olivia. She's confident and sexy, funny and beautiful, engaging and captivating. I was a fool for letting her walk away just now. I just hope I haven't completely fucked things up with her. I take my phone out of my front jeans pocket and send Olivia a text.
I WILL call you later.
Wait for me to help you take that dress off.
I slip my phone back into my pocket, grab my beer, and walk back to my group of friends.
“Every fucking time we hang out, you've got some unbelievably hot woman on your arm. You're a lucky son of a bitch, you know that?” Travis declares.
I nod and chuckle. It's true. I generally can find the company of a beautiful woman wherever I go. I was blessed with my dad's good looks and my mom's wit. Together, they're a lethal combination for any woman I set my sights on. It's just that, lately, I've been fed-up, bored of playing the game. Uninspired with the constant rotation of women. Tired of not having a connection with anyone. It's amazing how a mere twenty-four hours can help bring into focus what I truly want. And what I really want is Olivia.
