by A C Warneke
Frankie snorted, “Like Peter would go out with Ness after she’s slept with half of the guys in our high school class. He’s such a freaking prude.”
Heightened color stained Vanessa’s cheeks as she straightened her spine and glared at Frankie, “I’ll have you know that….”
Whatever Vanessa said was lost to Melanie as three of the most gorgeous men in the universe stalked into the bar, overwhelming the space with their presence. But it was the one in the middle, the golden one, that had Melanie rethinking her vow to keep her one night stands limited to gargoyles. He looked like an angel, with a face that was carved by a master and framed by a halo of dark gold hair. With harsh cheek bones that begged to be caressed and a straight nose that flared slightly as he looked at her, he reminded Melanie of a powerful lion. Slashes of dark gold formed his eye brows and his lips were full and luxurious, succulent lips that were eminently masculine and kissable. She wanted to feel them on her body….
He had a body that was absolute perfection: sleek, carved muscles that stretched around his bones, broad shoulders that were made for holding onto, a narrow waist for wrapping legs around. She drank him in, absorbing the raw masculinity that oozed from his every pore.
Even though he dominated the room with his mere presence, he seemed strangely out of place, not quite a part of the world he commanded. His burnished gold hair was pulled back, giving his untamed nature the illusion of civility. Clothes that were tailor made for his hard body seemed wrong; he should be naked, always naked. There was something so familiar about him even though Melanie knew she had never met him before in her life; she would have remembered meeting someone like him. It was almost as if he had always existed and she was created for him.
But that was ridiculous. If she were thinking straight, she would have realized sooner that he reminded her of the gargoyle she had fallen in love with the night before. And that was even more ridiculous because he was a man, the same as any other.
She looked at his muscular body, his magnificent face and blushed slightly and admitted that perhaps he wasn't like any other man. He was hot, sweaty nights and long, sweltering days all wrapped up in one luscious package. He could make a woman purr with a single word, he could make her melt with a single look.
He sat down at a table only a few feet away, his eyes slowly moving across her face, looking at her as if he was starving and she was the feast. Her body reacted accordingly, preparing to be feasted upon.
“Lenni,” Vanessa’s loud whisper poked at the edge of her thoughts. She knew she was staring but she was unable to help herself for he was divine. But it was more than his looks since his companions were just as handsome. Her gaze briefly touched on the two men sitting with him, taking in the dark expression of the black-haired man, the amused expression of the auburn haired man, before dismissing them. Her eyes returned to the golden man and while she tried not to stare, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
She had never had such an explosive reaction to anyone before. Her body felt vibrantly alive and her skin was stretched too tight over her bones, her pulse was racing and her brain was re-wiring itself as she continued to stare. His gaze slammed into hers and the world around her disappeared. She lost herself in a sea of gold as she lost her heart to a stranger.
Of course, it wasn’t really her heart. A person didn’t fall in love at first sight – that was just a myth. Lust, but not love, and Melanie definitely lusted, she lusted painfully hard. If she didn’t get a drink, she was going to spontaneously combust right in the middle of the bar and they would be scooping pieces of her off the ceiling for days. It would ruin her perfectly lovely outfit.
Grabbing Frankie’s wrist, she stood up, “Yeah, I think we should go dance. I love this song.”
When her friend didn’t budge, Melanie turned her head and looked at her. Frankie was looking back as if she had grown a third eye, right in the middle of her forehead. “Lenni, you hate this song. I think you called it the worst piece of crap ever to be forced upon the unsuspecting masses.”
Melanie paused, tilted her head to the side, and actually listened to the song that was playing. Sappy, crappy, digitized vocal, pop torture. Cringing, she made a face. “Damn. I do hate this song. Maybe we could get a drink or two. Or six.”
“You don’t drink,” Vanessa smirked even as she stood up and smoothed the short dress over her perfect butt. Grabbing her purse, she looped her arm through Melanie as Frankie took the other arm and the three of them slowly made their way to the bar. “Was he a little bit too much man for you?”
Melanie could have pretended not knowing who Vanessa was talking about but she could still feel his eyes burning a hole through the back of her shirt. So she simply nodded, making the other two girls laugh. Squeezing her arm companionably, Vanessa leaned in, “I could take the red head. I would have offered to take the black haired man but I don’t think even I have the ability to make that man happy.”
Melanie chuckled as her body slowly returned to normal. She didn’t think her brain had had enough time to completely re-wire itself and she hoped that whatever damage that was done would revert once she was away from the golden archangel for a long enough period of time. Leaning across the bar, she shouted out, “An Explosive Orgasm, please.”
The bartender gave her a knowing smile and she finally heard the words that came out of her mouth. Before she could take it back, he set a shot glass in front of her and was pouring the contents of two bottles into it. Warily, she eyed the drink and leaned forward. The bartender leaned forward as well, meeting her halfway. In a hushed voice, she asked, “What’s in it?”
“Banana liqueur and peach schnapps.” He was laughing at her but she didn’t care.
“Ooh, that sounds good,” Frankie said, pushing up to the bar next to Melanie. “I want one of those, too.”
“Me, too,” Vanessa chimed in, squeezing in on the other side. The bartender’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he caught his first glimpse of Melanie’s stunning friends. Wordlessly, he poured the drinks, his tongue probably forgetting how to work.
Laughing, the three girls took their shot glasses and cheered before slamming the sweet drink down. The alcohol burned through her esophagus all the way to her belly and Melanie shuddered, making a strangled sound as her entire body jerked. “Bleck! Wow, that was strong.”
“Lightweight,” Frankie chuckled affectionately, ordering another round. If Melanie wasn’t careful, she was going to get drunk and who knows what would happen should her dream man strike up a conversation. Even without alcohol or talking to her, he made her feel like peeling the clothes from his luscious body and licking every inch of his skin.
Before the bartender could pour her drink, she put her hand over the glass and shook her head, “No more for me, thanks.”
Frankie nudged her shoulder as Vanessa flirted with the man, managing to finagle free drinks out of the deal and probably a phone number. Melanie forced herself to keep her gaze on the many bottles of liquor on the back wall or the other customers instead of searching for the golden, lust-inducing angel. It shouldn’t have been too hard: Skin had been their favorite bar to hang out at ever since it opened and there was so much to observe. And yet, she desperately wanted to turn around.
A wall of heat slammed into her as a man pressed his chest against her, sending fireworks dancing along her spine. And she had thought sparks were a myth. With his lips next to her ear, he purred, “Dance with me.”
Without even needing to turn around she knew that it was him. She was going to meet the blond Adonis and his voice was pure decadence, low and velvety.
Excited, nervous, with her lips curling slightly in an inviting smile and her heart racing, she turned around and she nearly fainted. Reminding herself to breathe, she looked up. And up. Goodness, he was tall, probably six three, six four. At any rate, he was much taller than her own five five. Even in her modest heels, the top of her head only reached his chin. Instead of feeling intimidated, she felt… prote
cted. Safe.
As he held out his hand, the long, elegant fingers extending towards her in invitation, she discovered that she had lost the ability to speak coherently and could only nod
Taking his hand, she walked with him to the dance floor, coming to a stop at the same time. The world shifted on its access as he put his arms around her waist and she rested her hands on his shoulders. His muscles shifted beneath her fingers as he adjusted his hold on her, as he brought her body flush against his. Her lips parted and a breath of air rushed past her lips as she felt the latent strength and power of his hard body. Not only had she lost the power of speech, she pretty much forgot her own name.
She focused intently on his face. The sharp line of his jaw, the hollowed curves of his cheeks, the straight nose, the broad forehead and slashes of gold eyebrows, all of it blatantly proclaimed the virility of this man. With her hands on his shoulders, she knew he was solidly built, muscled without the bulk. Once again she had the thought that nakedness seemed to be this man’s natural state. Or rather, it seemed a sin to cloak the hard, masculine body in clothes.
His broad palm slid up her side and her back arched in pleasure. She had to force her eyes to remain open as he brushed his thumb over her lower lip. His eyes darkened as her lip clung to his skin for a moment, wanting to prolong the contact. “You’re even more beautiful up close than from across the room.”
“Thank you,” she managed, barely, touching the tip of her tongue to his thumb, tasting the salty texture of his warm skin. Her eyes slid close at the pleasure of it and she heard the sharp intake of his breath. When she opened her eyes, his carved lips were curved in an almost smile and a dimple played peek-a-boo on his left cheek, almost there but not quite. If he smiled fully, it would appear….
After a few moments of sexually charged silence, each taking the other’s measure, she cleared her throat and finally found her tongue. “I saw you when you came in and it terrified me.”
He chuckled softly at her admission and she was momentarily stunned by the sheer, masculine beauty of his full smile. There was a dimple. Pulling her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her, he continued to smile down at her. She could feel the hard planes of his chest and abs, the corded sinew of his arms as they held her. Tilting her head back, she was instantly mesmerized by the burning gold of his eyes. As she sank further and further into the golden depths, she felt as if she were flying through infinity. The bar disappeared and she was standing alone in this man’s arms.
“Not half so much as it terrified me.” His voice curled around her and sank deep into her belly, lighting off little fires within. Driven by instinct, she stepped closer until she was plastered against his body, her breasts rubbing against his chest, her belly pressing against the swollen steel of his erection. His eyes darkened and his pupils nearly swallowed the gold irises. “Gods, you tempt me beyond reason.”
“Then I believe that is my cue to cut in,” someone said, shattering the spell that kept the two of them separate from the rest of the world.
As the noise filtered back into her consciousness, Melanie turned her head and saw the auburn-haired man standing there, smiling down at her. Except for the color of his hair and his eyes, he looked exactly like the golden man holding her. Returning her gaze back to him, she tilted her head to the side, “The three of you are brothers?”
The thunderous scowl that had descended when his brother appeared lifted and the golden Adonis smiled brilliantly. “We are. This is Rhys and I am Vaughn….”
“Armand wishes to discuss something with you, Vaughn.” Rhys’s voice held laughter as he took Melanie’s hand and pulled her out of the heat of Vaughn’s body and against his own. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he placed a kiss on her knuckles as he held his brother’s eyes, “He is threatening to talk to her himself if you refuse to cooperate.”
Taking her other hand, Vaughn held it against his chest and she could feel his heart pounding as strongly as her own. Holding her eyes, he dropped his voice, “I’ll see you later, yes?”
She mutely nodded her head as he reluctantly let her go and returned to his brother’s side. The soft chuckle of Rhys made her realize that she was still standing in the middle of the dance floor and there was a handsome man waiting to dance with her. It was so strange and exhilarating being the center of a gorgeous man’s attention, let alone two gorgeous men. Usually, they flocked to Frankie’s and Vanessa’s side. It had never bothered Melanie because her friends were insanely attractive but now she understood the excitement.
Although only one of the men made her yearn to be a bad girl, if only for a single night.
With a soft smile, she stepped into the Rhys’s arms. Up close his extraordinarily long hair appeared more brown then red. Usually she didn’t like men with reddish hair but it was very attractive on this guy. It probably had a lot to do with how stunning he was and the brilliant smile that graced his luscious lips. His warm brown eyes danced with laughter and his entire being seemed to spark with amusement as he let her look her fill. “Do you like what you see?”
“I am just amazed at how much you look like your brother,” she answered bluntly. Unconsciously running her fingers over his lips, testing the firmness, she shook her head, “And yet, he’s the only one that makes me crazy.”
His low chuckle made her smile even as she blushed. “You haven’t met Armand yet. He puts both Vaughn and me to shame.”
Her lips split into a wide grin and she found herself liking this strange, beautiful man. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Like I said, you haven’t met Armand.” With a wry expression, he looked over her head to where his brothers were standing. His voice held the edge of regret as he continued, “Of course, you may be meeting him sooner rather than later if I don’t do what I am supposed to do, what Vaughn should have done.”
“What was Vaughn supposed to do?” she tilted her head to the side and looked up into his beautiful face, his rich, brown eyes. Once again the bar seemed to fade away but it was different, as if he were taking her into a different realm instead of pulling her into him. As the sounds became muffled and the colors muted, she realized he was talking to her and she had to force herself to listen.
“After this dance, you will have no recollection of me or my brothers,” he crooned in a low, mesmerizing voice. His brown eyes swirled with power and she was reminded of the golden eyes she could have drowned in. But she was with Rhys, at least for the dance and she owed it to him to pay attention to what he was saying. Afterwards, she could ask if Vaughn was single. “You will return home and forget about the castle, your small apartment. It was all a dream.”
She started at him for a long moment before her lips slowly curled upwards in a wry, appreciative smile as she finally heard his words. In teasing gravity, she drawled, “Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me.”
The shocked expression that descended upon his face only lasted a moment but it was well worth the price of admission and then some. Recovering quickly, obviously more amused than angry, he grinned. Good god his smile was brilliant, making his already handsome face absolutely devastating. “I see that you are going to be a much bigger problem than we anticipated.”
She laughed, amused by the game, of having someone share her slightly twisted sense of humor, even if she didn’t fully understand the rules. Unable to help herself, she looked over her shoulder and saw Vaughn glaring daggers at her dance partner.
His golden gaze shifted and collided with hers. Melanie stumbled over her feet, feeling the burning heat in his eyes from across the crowded dance floor. Had two strong arms not come around her to keep her steady she would have crumbled to the ground, unable to remain standing with knees that had suddenly turned to jelly. Her response to Vaughn should have scared her, she had never felt anything so all consuming, but it was exhilarating and she wanted to soak up every moment of it. She wanted….
A low chuckle near her ear drew her attention back to Rhys. Warmth flooded he
r cheeks as she tilted her head back and looked at his face. His friendly eyes were lit with humor, “Oh, this is going to get interesting.”
“Get interesting?” Melanie murmured, catching her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes darting to the Vaughn once more. “It already is.”
“Perhaps you would like to dance with my brother.”
Her gaze snapped back to his and she couldn’t prevent the broad grin from appearing at the notion of being in Vaughn’s arms once again. “I would like that above all things.”
He looked over her shoulder and made a motion for his brother to take over. Bending his head down, his lips near her ear, be breathed, “Close your eyes.”
Feeling only slightly ridiculous, Melanie stood in anticipation of being held by Vaughn, of breathing him in. Her face hurt from smiling so broadly and excited energy made it difficult to remain still. A warm, broad hand wrapped around her upper arm and she was dismayed to find that the current of energy that had arced between them earlier was absent.
“May I cut in?” His voice was wrong, too; softer. Darker.
With a slight frown, she opened her eyes, the disorientation showing in her expression. Until she saw that it was the dark one, the black haired man. Armand.
She glanced at her former dance partner but he was laughing and already returning to Vaughn’s side. Plastering a smile on her face, she lifted her head and met cold, green eyes, harsh in their beauty and chilling her to the core. Her knees wobbled but she was held securely in strong arms. Unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to be able to tear her eyes from the green gaze, as blackness began to consume her.
“I am Armand,” he murmured in a voice that oozed sex and power, demanding to be obeyed, making her brain temporarily shut down. From a purely aesthetic observation, Armand was, in a word, dazzling. He would have been the dream of any artist wishing to paint the angel Lucifer, just after he fell and was experiencing lust for the first time. There was something so primal, so elemental, about him that separated him for the lesser beings and elevated him to the level of a minor deity.
