“Okay. We’ll go together. Just remember the rules.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Perfect. When are we going?”
He actually checked his watch, and she grinned. As if they could just pick up and leave work anytime they wanted. Well, okay, he could leave whenever he wanted because he owned the place, but that wasn’t an option for her.
“Friday. After work.” The butterflies fluttered, and she pressed her hand to her middle.
He acknowledged her with a nod. “I’ll meet you here at five.”
Her gaze followed his back as he headed toward the door. At the same time he grabbed the handle, he turned, and she averted her eyes, twisting the penguin charm on her necklace until the chain dug into her skin. She feigned reading the papers on the edge of her desk. The ones that were flipped over, blank side up.
She groaned inwardly.
“And bring me those spreadsheets on Sanders as soon as they’re ready.”
“Yes, boss.” She snapped to attention and gave him a mock salute. Too bad the word “boss” didn’t remind her of one more reason she shouldn’t be thinking of him in any other manner than friend.
Friday would get here too quickly—and not quickly enough.
...
The heavy-metal band in the bar rocked out another song, and Allison swallowed some wine, feeling more out of place than ever. This wasn’t the type of club where people sipped wine with little white napkins to set their glasses on. It was a beer in the bottle and peanut shells on the floor type of place. Not that that was a bad thing, but just not her thing. The website hadn’t mentioned this bar would be filled with men wearing chains, faux hawks, and makeup. And the women…
She’d reneged on her threat of having Jared stay out of sight in a corner. Her comfort level hovered around normal only when he sat by her side. The idea of being approached or approaching someone on her own—in this establishment—sent her pulse pounding. Jared commanded respect, and no chance in heck would anyone mess with him, or her, when they sat together.
“No way. Not that guy. You’re kidding me, right?” Jared nudged her in the shoulder and laughed, nodding with his chin to the guy she had added to her list of potentials.
Although she didn’t know his name, she’d penned him in as eyeliner guy.
“I’m serious.” Out of all the men in this place, he ranked numero uno. “He’s kind of cute, and I love his eyeliner. We could get ready in the morning and share makeup. You can’t beat that.” The wannabe rock star across the room had potential, too—in a bad boy kind of way—but so far nobody had really lived up to her expectations. Or apparently Jared’s. But she’d grown tired of staring at her blank sheet of paper.
He took a slug of his beer. “I say we give this up.”
“We’ve only been to three bars.”
“Three bars too many.”
“What about that guy over there?” She nodded toward a guy dressed in a gray suit tossing darts with two other guys wearing low-on-the-hip jeans and faded concert T-shirts. The suit guy had nice shoulders. One of the other men had so many piercings on his face he reminded her of the metal head that Gramps had given her for her tenth birthday that held all her earrings. She still had that holder in the back of her closet. The businessman seemed more out of place than she felt, but something about him reminded her of Jared, but on a smaller scale. Must be the hair.
Jared looked at her as if she’d grown two heads with horns and had purple skin. “Are you kidding me? He’s the definition of uptight.”
She bumped her shoulder against his. “You can get that from glancing at him from across the room? Give me a break. You don’t know the first thing about that guy.”
“I know his type.”
“Like you know women’s bodies?”
“Exactly.” He finished off his drink and let out a satisfied sigh, sliding his empty bottle across the tiny table they shared in the corner. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
She shook her head, staring him down. “I’m not ready to leave. We’ve only been here a few minutes, and I still have my wine.” She lifted her glass. “Plus, I want to talk to at least one guy, and all this on and off your motorcycle is killing my hair.”
Even though she’d loved every second they spent on the bike, mainly because she got to sit up tight and personal with her hands pressed against his abs, she wanted her list of potentials to include more than eyeliner guy. Not that she expected to meet any date candidates tonight—because the odds were dwindling as each minute ticked by—but she could use the practice when it came to talking to men she didn’t know.
But then again, if they hopped on the bike, she… His muscles did amazing things on that bike, and she wiggled in her seat just thinking about it.
He rolled his eyes and dropped back down into his chair. “If you’re trying to get me to nix my own personal helmet law, you can forget it.”
Although she understood his concern, helmets were hell on a girl’s hair. “But we don’t need to wear them in Illinois.”
“And I have had one too many buddies get hurt because they weren’t wearing one.”
She sobered for a moment, remembering two years ago when one of Nick and Jared’s fraternity brothers died in a motorcycle accident. If he’d worn a helmet, the outcome would’ve been different.
“Good point.” She left it at that, not wanting to get off topic with helmet laws. Her focus was a man.
Her gaze skimmed the room and landed on a buxom, peroxide blonde dressed in a leather mini. The woman gave Jared the once-, then twice-over as she strutted by with a tray of drinks.
Jared gave her the universal hand motion requesting another beer. Her smile brightened, and her lips moved as she said something, but the music drowned out her words. For some reason the way she looked at him annoyed Allison, and it annoyed her more when Jared flashed his smile and winked. Of course that’s how Jared rolled. He probably didn’t even realize the effect he had on most women.
With elbows on the table, he steepled his fingers, checking out the crowd with a grimace. “I don’t think the bar is any place to find a”—he shrugged, ignoring the women one table over who were shooting him looks and laughing loud in hopes of getting his attention—“I don’t know what you want to call it.”
“I might be old-fashioned, but I call it a date.” She smiled, eyeing him from beneath her lashes. “But my saucy side refers to him as my Posturepedic pal.”
He stiffened, and then laughter rolled off him and on to her with smooth precision.
“If I think about that too much, it’s kind of gross, but funny at the same time.”
“Does it make you feel dirty?” she teased, taking a small sip of her drink.
“Extremely.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“You’re so bad.” He shook his head, letting his gaze travel around the room. “I knew you wanted to change but didn’t realize you wanted to be the bad girl.”
“Spank me now.” She laughed, looking away as heat roared across her face. “Sorry, I think this atmosphere is bringing out my rough edges.”
“Edges you probably didn’t even know existed.”
“Exactly.” But she kind of liked them and the way she shocked Jared. At least in the playful way she shared with him. Even though she hadn’t met anyone who perked her interest, the night hadn’t been a total bust. She’d had a great time. She’d always loved people watching, and Jared did, too. Her cheeks were sore from smiling, and her ribs even sorer from laughing.
He took the beer from the waitress before she could put it on the table. He gave her a nod and another killer smile, and she added oomph to her wiggle as she walked back toward the bar. Too bad that the only one at their table who noticed was Allison, and it did nothing for her.
She leaned close so that Jared could hear her better. “You do realize all the attention you’re attracting, don’t you? I feel like I’m your wingman instead of the other way around.”
He turne
d to face her head on. “I’m your wingman?”
“You’ve probably never been one before,” she teased, her tone dry.
He leaned so close his breath moved several wisps of her hair. “As your wingman, I’m telling you this place is dead. If you’re so determined to go through with this, let’s try another spot.”
“You’re just not looking at anyone’s potential.” She grasped at straws, but in all truthfulness she was having so much fun chatting with Jared, she didn’t want to interrupt their good time by getting up to leave.
“Because there isn’t any. Not here.” His breath tickled her ear, and she squirmed as tingles raced across her flesh, specifically to the vee between her legs.
If only Jared…
Things between them could so easily heat up, but she couldn’t let it. And he obviously didn’t want it, or he’d have made a move by now. She might not be an expert, but wasn’t she sending off some kind of I’m-all-yours-for-the-taking signal? She scooted in her chair to put some much needed distance between them. That plan backfired when he scooted closer to her.
“Come on, Al. You might feel like you need to do this in a hurry, but there’s nobody here good enough for you.”
“Now you’re making me sound like a snob.” She knocked his shoulder with hers and turned away, studying the crowd. He might be right. Not that she was too good for anyone, but nobody really sparked her interest. Well, one person did, but even with all the signals she tossed out—and knew she shouldn’t—he didn’t take the bait.
Allison downed the remaining liquid in her glass with one swallow. “Whenever you’re ready.”
His eyes flecked with humor as he pulled on his beer, drinking more than half in one gulp.
She eyed him playfully as she stood. “Should I expect a little pec dancing later?”
I wish!
“Sorry to disappoint, but the last three beers I’ve had were nonalcoholic.”
“How responsible.”
“I told you I don’t party like I used to. One of us has to be able to drive and keep your bad-girl self in line.” He rolled his eyes, taking another long draw on his nonalcoholic brew.
“You’re kind of like an old man now.” She bit her lip to quash her smile. Not that it worked.
“I’ll show you an old man.”
...
She laughed, a wispy, delicate sound that ended with a tiny gasp as he stood, pushed her up against the wall, and claimed her mouth.
He’d wanted to do this ever since he’d gone into her office Thursday on the pretense of needing that damn report. The report he could’ve sent Maureen to collect. Hell, he could’ve just called or shot her an email. But he’d been unable to stay away. He didn’t want to stay away. What he wanted was to see where this attraction between them went. Even if he did have to hit a few bars with her all in the name of finding her some guy good enough to date her.
Couldn’t he be her date?
His body pressed into her softness, and she curled her fingers around his neck, lifting her chin so he had better access to her lips.
He shouldn’t be doing this, but he’d wanted nothing more all night. Hell, all week. He didn’t want to get involved, but he couldn’t stay away. Every word she spoke drew his attention to the perfect lines of her lush lips. The way she talked with her hands only made him think about her hands on him.
And those damn jeans…
Her soft moan combined with the way her fingers tangled in his hair sent chills down his spine and inspired an erection that pressed against his zipper with such force he had to shift his weight to get relief.
He broke away, his breath heavy. Not because he wanted to, but because he could feel himself going over the edge, and he didn’t want to grope Allison in the middle of a crowded bar. She was too good for that.
But damn, she tasted better than she had the other night when he’d sampled her sweet mouth.
“How’s that for an old man?”
“Old man who?” She leaned her forehead against his chin, then tilted her head back, parting her lips and inviting him in for another kiss.
And he wanted seconds. More than he’d ever imagined. The soft blush creeping over her face, the way her breasts strained against her blouse as she tried to regain her breathing only encouraged him. Holy. Fuck. With her it’d be too easy to forget where the hell they were.
And he didn’t like an audience. Not now. With Allison, not ever.
But that didn’t stop him from running his thumb over her bottom lip. For a second he lost sense of where they were when her eyes grew dark and her lashes fluttered gently over her skin. She looked so beautiful, and that protective urge—or maybe he should just call it what it is…lust—overtook him.
He couldn’t picture her with anyone but him. Fuck. He didn’t want her with anyone else. Screw Nick. He’d deal with him later.
If anyone would teach Allison how to please a man, let a real man do the job.
Him.
She was ready, so was he. He was willing, and so was she. And they were both adults.
“Al, I don’t want you with any of these men.”
She sighed, sagging against him. “Are we really going to have this conversation again? I—”
He took her mouth in a hard kiss, parting the seam of her lips with his tongue and thrusting inside, swallowing her gasp. She melted against him. He slid his hands down her throat, past her shoulders, and lower still until he curved his arm around her back and squeezed her rear.
She smiled into their kiss, and this time he melted.
“Do I need to rephrase?” he whispered against her mouth.
She shook her head, their mouths still touching. “I really only wanted one man in this room, but I didn’t think he wanted—”
“You better be talking about me.” He leaned back just far enough so he could watch the way her emotions flickered across her eyes. Excitement. Uncertainty. Acceptance.
She nodded, her lips parted and moist. “Are you telling me—?”
“I’m telling you I’ve come to my senses. Or lost them completely.”
Her body stiffened, and then a whisper of a smile curved her lips. “How about I rephrase? Just to clarify we’re on the same page.”
“I have a feeling we’re more than on the same page. We’re in the same sentence.”
Her giggle pierced him with another shot of desire. She had no idea.
“You’ve not only helped me with my makeover, but you’re willing to show me the dating ropes, and now you’re going to help me learn how to drive a man crazy?” One delicate eyebrow shot up in challenge.
Shit. “You don’t need to be taught. You’re already driving me crazy.”
“You’re making me feel all flirty again.” She bit playfully at his thumb as it ran the length of her bottom lip.
“For someone with no experience, you sure know how to blue-ball a guy.”
Her seductive laugh wrapped around him and held on tight. But he didn’t mind. She felt warm, soft, and perfect in his arms.
“Blue-ball?”
He wasn’t sure if she were teasing or serious. For some reason his nonalcoholic beers made him feel drunk, or having her in his arms and tasting her mouth did. “Don’t you know what blue—?”
Her lopsided smile sent him over the edge. “I’m a virgin, Jared. Not an idiot.” With that she touched her mouth to his, testing, tasting, teasing, and he came unglued, pulling her close and pushing his tongue against hers.
She arched her back until her breasts crushed against his chest. Then she reversed their positions in one fluid movement so that she had him pressed tight to the wall. She traced his jaw with one finger, a delicate touch that made him forget his name. He couldn’t take much more as anticipation built to the point his head ached—both of them—but at the same time he didn’t want what was happening between them to become a bar show.
Her eyes, full of promise, feasted on him. He’d never been so excited about the thought of being with
a woman, and it scared him.
“So, now that we’re on the same page…I mean, in the same sentence”—she licked her lips slowly as he followed her tongue with his eyes—“your place or mine?”
Chapter Eight
Allison sat with her front pressed up to Jared’s back as he maneuvered his bike through the city streets toward his condo. She’d only been there once, when she’d gone with Nick to drop something off, and she’d barely caught a quick glimpse from the hallway. The thought of stepping inside, being in his personal space, sent a shiver through her.
The Hershey’s Kiss she’d popped into her mouth before Jared slid on her helmet melted quicker than normal. Probably because her body temperature soared to new heights. Anticipation, mixed with a good dose of nervous energy, had her wiggling against his back, trying to get closer to ease the throb between her legs.
She parted the opening of his jacket and pressed her hand across his abs, loving the way his muscles flexed against his shirt with each twist and turn of their bodies on the bike. Soon enough she’d get to feel his skin. She rested her head on his shoulder—as much as she could with the bulky helmet—and he pressed his hand over hers as they moved down a straight patch of road.
Could they get there any faster? She was on fire, and the stiffness of his back and arms told her he was, too. How much more could either of them take? If she’d been more experienced, she’d have slid her hand down between his thighs, but uncertainty held her back. Not to mention the fact she didn’t want to cause an accident.
She closed her eyes to gather herself and settle her heart rate, but it didn’t work. If anything, her heart raced faster, her pulse pounded in her veins, and every nerve ending in her body throbbed.
Now that they’d made their decision, time couldn’t move fast enough.
He seemed more than ready. And she definitely was.
All the hours she’d spent pouring over the Kama Sutra book, taking notes from various websites on sexual positions and how to please your partner, as well as every romantic movie she could get her hands on, had left her body aching for release. Real release, with a real man. She could only hope things would develop naturally. That she wouldn’t freeze up, or let her doubts hold her back.
A Friendly Flirtation (Friends First #3) Page 11
