by Eileen Green
There was also a spark of recognition for Skye, but she couldn’t place him. She had seen him before, but since he was here, he most likely was a celebrity of some kind.
“May I join you?” he asked smoothly as he pulled out the other chair at the table. It was as if the question was just rhetorical.
He sat down, his black leather pants hugging tight to his fantastically muscled thighs. A black t-shirt stretched across his chest, the material looking as if it was going to burst. His bi-ceps bulged as they peeked out from under the sleeve hems and a tribal tattoo played peek-a-boo with her.
He was sex on a stick and then some and Skye felt as if she were drooling, her mouth hung open. Her voice had suddenly disappeared for she couldn’t seem to speak.
To add insult to injury, the man whose eyes seemed to be an extreme dark blue, reached out in what seemed like slow motion and pressed his fingers to her chin. He pressed upward until her mouth closed.
Fire seemed to rush throughout her entire body, whether from embarrassment or from sexual desire, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was this dreamy man had touched her.
“Breathe, little one,” he said lowly, his words sending chills through her body. His eyes drilled into hers; looking deep into her soul as his other hand covered hers.
Confusion struck her as if she had been slapped. Why was he even talking to her? Not to mention, touching her.
As if her body responded to his command, with her brain still in neutral, her lungs dragged in air. She remained drowning in his gaze as his thumb rubbed across the back of her hand.
The action was soothing, calming her, which she found fascinating. Why she was reacting to him? She didn’t understand. She had never felt like this with any man she had dated.
The waitress arrived with the bottle of champagne and two glasses and set them down in front of Mr. Sexy. Ignoring Skye, she had her eyes set on Skye’s intruder and only him. “May I open the bottle for you, sir?”
Skye had to bite back the laugh that threatened to escape at the way the woman was sizing him up. The puppy dog eyes along with the pouty lips and the way her chest suddenly seemed to thrust itself out at him was a comical sight to see.
The surprise came when the man handed the waitress three one hundred-dollar bills while keeping his gaze upon Skye. She shuddered at the penetrating dark blue orbs that held a hint of mirth. “Keep the change,” he said, never looking at the woman.
Shifting slightly, Skye tried to move her gaze to the stage, but for some reason, she was unable to. It was as if he was silently daring her to hold his gaze.
A slight “hmpt” sounded from the waitress as she took the money and literally stomped away in her spiked heels. Skye brought her free hand to her lips to cover them as she fake coughed into it, hoping the beefcake next to her didn’t know she was actually laughing.
***
Brock released a chuckle at her attempt to hide her amusement. She had looked confused from the moment their eyes had met and a flush had spread throughout all her visible flesh. Now, her mirth was getting the best of her.
A few coughs later, she straightened out her face and body and tried to ignore him again. She stared at the stage as if she was wishing the concert would begin so she could perform the task she was here for.
Letting her have her moment, he popped the cork on the clear bottle of golden champagne and poured the bubbly liquid in a glass. He set it before the beauty next to him before pouring his own glass. After setting the bottle back on the table he held his hand out that contained the glass.
“I’d like to toast this evening.”
He looked directly at her as he spoke and watched her turn to him in disbelief. Her crystal blue eyes were pools to drown in. The lighting in the room affecting the outer rims of the coloring, which were a dark blue to move as if waves in the beach. It was an odd effect, but Brock found it fascinating and intriguing.
Actually, he found the woman herself intriguing. She was beautiful even though she seemed to think she wasn’t. He saw the look on her face when he began to walk towards her. The quick glance behind her to see if he was watching someone else spoke volumes.
Insecurity flowed from the woman in waves. Shock waves. The way she held herself, shoulders hunched inward and her head bowed, told him that she wanted to be left alone and her eyes spoke of her loneliness.
Brock wanted to take her, wrap her in cotton, and tuck her away in his pocket forever, but he had other thoughts too.
Tentatively, as if she was on automation, she picked up the glass, wrapping her fingers around the stem. Oh, how he wanted to have her grip his cock like that.
Clearing his throat, he clinked his glass to hers as he watched her face. “Here’s to a wonderful night, a lasting friendship, and much more.” She began to pull hers back. “Also…” She stopped moving. “To the most beautiful woman in the world.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock as the flush on her flesh deepened and her eyelids dropped down. Brock drank from his glass, surveying mass range of expressions that flitted across her face.
Setting his champagne glass down, he covered her free hand again. It was cold to the touch which was a contradiction to the flush that seemed to run through her body. She trembled and he had to wonder if perhaps he had come on too strong.
“Are you all right, little one?”
Multi-colored eyelids flew open and her magnificent eyes looked into his. Interest swam there, as did fear. Had he gotten to her?
“I-I’m…” She cleared her throat. She tried to smile. “I’m…” Blond eyebrows knitted together as if she was searching for something. Realization must have set in for her face straightened out. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Then,” he said raising his glass again and tapping hers. “To a wonderful evening together.”
A shadow crossed her features as her eyelids dropped again, but this time she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. Her tongue darted out to lick any residual liquid from her lips as she set her glass on the table.
Brock groaned at the movement while his cock demanded attention in his leather pants. Oh, how he wanted those lips wrapped around him, licking the pearly liquid from the tip of him.
Crossing his right leg over his left, he shifted slightly to gain some comfort. “So, what name does a gorgeous woman like you have?”
A slight cough emanated from her before she replied, “My name is Skye.”
His smile grew as he lifted her delicate hand to his lips. Placing an open mouth kissed to the back of it, he let his tongue drag across the cool soft skin, tasting her for the first time.
Vanilla erupted on his tongue along with the taste of her skin. His cock pulsed. His heart slammed in his chest. He wanted to keep her forever.
What? This never happened to him. Even with all the women he worked with intimately, and dated, his body never reacted the way it did with Skye.
He knew he was lost to her.
After lifting his head from her hand, he looked into her eyes. Bewilderment and glee danced together. Her lips had a slight curve to them while she tried to pull her hand back. He refused to let it go.
The waitress returned with a basket of hot wings resting on a piece of red and white checked parchment paper and a platter of chili cheese fries. She placed them on the table and tried to catch Brock’s attention again.
The woman was too fake. Too much makeup adorned her face. Acne sores beneath the foundation was unattractive since the makeup made them appear more pronounced. In fact, if Brock took a guess, they weren’t acne, but sores from tweaking. The woman was on some type of drugs which most likely was keeping her thin. Her fake tits were too big for her body, making it look as if she was going to topple over.
“Thank you,” he said as he returned his attention to Skye. Through his peripheral vision he saw the waitress’ mouth turn down in a frown. Her eyes shot daggers at his tablemate before she stomped away.
He was going to have to have a talk with his frien
d, Albert, who owned the club. She didn’t need to be here if she was going to let her feelings shine so bright. No one should be acting like that, especially in public.
Placing his full attention on the woman seated next to him, although he had never taken his eyes off her, he saw her focus was on the glass before her. The bubbles provided a visual dance in the liquid until they arrived at the surface, bursting in their freedom.
Nervousness radiated off her as she continued to try to pretend he wasn’t there. This was a first for him, but he found it exciting. A challenge. He wanted her from the first moment he had laid eyes on her, and that wasn’t just a little while ago. He had seen her about six months before and had to set up a scenario to get her to be his.
Her eyes flicked to the food sitting on the table between them before they went back to staring at the champagne. Her teeth nibbled at her bottom lip.
“I didn’t order them just for myself, Skye. Go ahead and have some,” he said as he pushed the plate of chili cheese fries towards her.
A shake of her head as she breathed in told him that she was going to be difficult. “No, thank you.”
The yearning was in her voice as her hand shook. If he chanced a guess, he would say she hadn’t eaten in a while.
“When was the last time you ate, Skye?” He tried to put his dominant voice into his statement, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Her shoulder went up in a shrug. Frustration built within him. “When, Skye?”
Chapter Three
What the hell was wrong with this guy? He’s acting as if they were out on a date, or that he owned her. And why the hell is he even paying attention to me when there are all these skinny women out here?
When his hand tightened on hers, she realized he was still holding it. She was surprised at the sizzle that moved up her arm from the touch.
Raising her gaze, she found his intense eyes watching her, concern lying there.
“Why?” she asked with a sigh.
His brows drew together. “Why, what?”
“Why are you sitting with me? Why are you concerned about when I last ate?” she asked in exasperation as she tried to pull her hand away from his.
He held fast and confusion still swamped his face. “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re beautiful and I like what I see. You don’t look happy and you seem lonely.” He moved his chair closer to her with what, Skye wasn’t sure, as both hands were occupied. “You intrigue me, Skye, and I like that about you.”
A snort of laughter escaped through her nose at his words. “Right!” She hadn’t meant to be sarcastic with her response, but it did come out that way and she hoped he hadn’t caught onto it.
His lips tightened into a thin line as his eyes looked down in disappointment. He breathed in deeply, the motion causing his chest to swell. The black cotton material expanded emphasizing the hard, chiseled muscles beneath it.
Skye’s fingers itched to run across them and feel all that the man was made of. In her mind’s eye, she could picture what he looked like under his clothes, which caused her to squirm, her entire body turning hot.
“I don’t understand why you doubt my words,” he said, disappointment dripping from his words. “I don’t lie, Skye, and I would never say something I don’t mean.”
Shame rushed through her. She felt as if he had scolded her and her stomach did a flip. Why is he affecting me this way?
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her head hanging in shame. A weighty pause hung between them as she had expected him to say something, but he didn’t. “I’m not skinny like the other women here. I don’t belong here.”
Tears prickled behind her eyes. This was a total stranger sitting beside her and she didn’t know why she just admitted something to the man. It was so beyond her comfort zone.
Impulse shot through her and she began to stand. She stopped short when he bit out, “Sit down!”
The command was said so only she could hear it, but she felt as if he had shouted the words.
She obeyed.
Warmth left her hand as he lifted his and before she knew it, he reached out with both hands, pulled her chair around so she faced him, and then he drew her closer. Her knees straddled his left knee, which was awfully close to the apex of her thighs.
Moisture gathered in her panties and she was afraid there might be a spot on her jeans. Heat consumed her body while her nipples tightened into taut pebbles.
This man looked as if she was the only woman in the room. He looked at her as she had seen other men look at their wives or girlfriends. What was wrong with him? Perhaps he had a vision problem.
That’s got to be it! Perhaps he wore contacts and hadn’t put them in.
No, that didn’t make sense. He wouldn’t have been able to walk across the room the way he did with such mission.
Two of his fingers touched her chin and gently lifted her head until she was forced to look at him.
His eyes were dark and his breathing was a bit labored. His lips were still straight as if he was angry. The longer he gazed into her eyes, the more her synapses fired within her body. Tears still threatened to spill though she tried to blink them back.
After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke. “Men don’t say things like that to me. I’m fat, and I know it. I don’t know why you don’t see it.”
Trying to turn away from him, his other arm landed firmly on her thigh, holding her still, while his other hand took a firm but gentle grasp on her chin. He looked angrier which frightened her.
“I don’t ever want to hear you speak of yourself that way again. Do you understand me?” He bit the words out, his hands becoming firmer than before.
“After tonight, we won’t see each other anymore, so you don’t have to worry about it.” She didn’t know why she said that aloud, but it was true.
A loss she couldn’t explain overcame her. She wanted to spend more time with him, but she did know that they would never see each other again.
“That’s where you’re wrong, little one. I want to see more of you after tonight. In fact, I already have our first date planned out.”
A giggle escaped Skye. She didn’t know why she found that amusing, but part of her was ecstatic that he wanted to see her again.
Her breathing came in shorter breaths with her excitement and her heart seemed to be dancing in her chest. Tiny flutters went off in her lower stomach and her pussy lips throbbed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, his expression lightening a bit.
Squaring her shoulders and thrusting her chin out, she tried to bring out some bravery within her. “You’ve already planned our first date, but you haven’t asked me out. I don’t even know your name.”
A deep chuckle sounded from him as his lips curled up. Skye could have sworn she felt the chuckle in her own chest.
The man stood, releasing his hold on her chin. Proffering his right hand, he smiled down at her. “Hello. My name is Brock and I would really like to enjoy this evening with you, and to go out tomorrow night on a real date.”
Flattery filled Skye as her hand seemed to rise on its own and slip into his. Callused fingertips and palms indicated he wasn’t afraid to work, and his grasp was firm but not crushing. He was aware he was shaking a woman’s hand.
For a moment, her mind went fuzzy, not sure what to say. Brock continued to hold her hand in his as his eyes searched her face. Was he afraid she would tell him to get lost?
Finally finding her voice, she tried to sound confident. “My name is Skye. It’s nice to meet you. You may join me for this evening, but I’m not sure about a date. I’ll have to think on it, and it will depend if I’m done with my story or not.”
“Oh? You’re a writer?” he asked as he resumed his seat but he didn’t release her hand.
As she answered, he watched her intently as if he really was interested in her answer. “I’m a journalist with MVC. I’m here to do a story on JC’s comeback.”
Brock smiled. “So, did you know of JC before your
assignment?”
Judging from the looks of the man, he was probably JC’s age, perhaps a bit younger. She had to wonder if he had seen the man in concert back in the day.
A shy smile lit her face. Did she tell him the truth? Would he think she was a fool?
“I’ll admit I had a slight crush on him back in junior high school.” She didn’t have to tell the whole truth. She wasn’t under oath.
Brock still held her hand and she was surprised when he raised it to his lips, turned it palm up, and kissed it. She felt heat rise to her face again, wondering how this man could keep causing that to happen.
“Now, I want you to eat this food with me and enjoy this evening together. If you don’t like what I ordered, we can order something else.” His suddenly serious demeanor confused her.
He was still telling her what to do, but there was amusement in his eyes. Or, perhaps, it was a challenge that lay within the dark orbs.
The thought that she didn’t want to disobey the man, or disappoint him, she picked up a fry covered in chili and cheese. Lifting it to her lips, she took a bite.
The savory spicy flavor of the chili burst and blended with the zest of the sharp melted cheese. As soon as the tasty food hit her stomach, she realized how hungry she was. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and then, it was only a slice of toast, a cup of yogurt, and a diet soda.
The moan that escaped her was met by a sardonic smile from Brock. Skye tried to hide her mouth with her free hand, but he grasped that one too. “Apparently you are hungry,” he said with a chuckle. “But don’t ever hide your expressions from me. I love the expressions you get and want to see them to read you. Also, you really need to eat three meals a day. It won’t do your body any good if you deny yourself food.
“Like I said, you are not fat. You are a healthy woman, and I like to see my women eat. Is that understood?” He wasn’t speaking down to her, but he was setting out rules she wasn’t sure she could follow.
