Sexy Stranger

by Kendall Ryan

  Man up. You’ve got nothing to lose.

  She already hated me. The way I saw it, the night would either end with her still hating me—or maybe, just maybe, we’d make peace. My dick perked up in interest. On top of that, I’d come up with a very interesting proposition for her, and I was hoping like hell that I could make her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

  I stood up from my seat in the back corner and walked over to her. “Figured you for a fruity drink kind of girl.”

  “Do you know how many calories are in those fruity drinks?” she replied, not looking over. In my peripheral vision, I could see her reflection looking at me.

  “You surprised me with the straight vodka.”

  “How do you know this isn’t just water?”

  “By the way you pursed your lips when you swallowed, like it burned going down. There are much better things you can put in your mouth.”

  That got her attention. Those blue eyes snapped to mine and widened as I leaned in a little closer.

  “I could help if you’re looking for something a little . . . sweeter.”

  Charlotte didn’t nod, but she didn’t shake her head either. I took her lack of response as a yes, and wondered for a second exactly what I could get away with.

  What if I just went for it and closed the gap between us? What if I pressed my lips against hers and slipped my tongue into that smart little mouth?

  As tempting as the notion was, I raised a hand to the bartender instead. “Two glasses of Wilder,” I told him. “Neat.”

  I placed a hand on the back of the empty barstool next to her and waited for her to nod her okay before I sat down.

  “Whiskey?” she asked when the glasses were placed in front of us.

  “Best whiskey in town.”

  “You’re telling me that this isn’t going to burn like the vodka?”

  “I’ll guarantee it.”

  “And what makes you so sure?” she said, leaning over toward me. Her eyes were a little glassy, making me wonder exactly how much of that vodka she’d had to drink.

  “Because I made it.”

  “Sure, you did.” She scoffed, clearly not believing me. When I raised my brows to challenge her skepticism, she said, “You’re serious?”

  “Not a fan of liars. Definitely not one myself.”

  “Okay then.” She picked up her glass and sniffed at the rich amber-colored liquid. “Let’s just see.” She lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip.

  I did the same, knowing what to expect—the smooth oak finish, the rich vanilla undertones, the sweet aftertaste that made you want to go back for more. As I swallowed mine, I waited anxiously for her reaction.

  “Well?”

  “Not too bad.”

  She was cagey, careful not to let me know exactly how much she liked it. But when she took another sip, I knew we had a new fan.

  “Can’t believe you ever doubted me.”

  We sat there for a moment, just looking at each other. While she was still wearing the same clothes from this morning, something was different. Her hair was smoother, her makeup a little darker. The pink polish that I’d noticed on her nails had been replaced with an almost black color.

  “How was your day?” I asked.

  “Great. After dealing with Wayne, I spent the day at the salon.”

  “You met Audrey?”

  “I did.” Charlotte gave me a slightly crooked smile. “Don’t I look fantastic?”

  While I didn’t miss her normally biting tones, I could tell she was a little drunk. Especially when she attempted to bat her now fuller lashes at me.

  Damn, she’s a cute drunk.

  “Fantastic. You wanna split a pizza?” I asked, determined to get some food in her before the liquor took over completely.

  “Pizza?”

  “Yeah, as in pepperoni, cheese, sauce . . . You’ve had it before, right?” When she answered me with an eye roll, I said, “And don’t give me that too many calories bullshit.”

  “Well, it is.”

  I silenced her with a finger against her pouty lips. “We both need dinner. Humor me. One slice.”

  I let my finger linger in place for a moment. When her lips puckered slightly against my skin, I had to will my cock into submission. Not yet, pal. I dropped my hand from her mouth.

  I wasn’t the kind of guy who took advantage of a girl who’d had too much to drink. Before I made a move, I’d get some food and water in her. The last thing I wanted was her doing anything she’d regret.

  “Fine,” she said. “Pizza does sound pretty good.”

  “That a girl.”

  • • •

  One pizza later, the two of us were sitting at a small table at the front of the bar. While we’d kept our conversation light so far, I couldn’t help but think of all the questions I had for Charlotte. My interest in her went far beyond looks.

  “I learned a little bit about you today,” she said.

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.” I was pretty sure my reputation in this town was golden, but you never know what’s said behind closed doors.

  “All good, I promise.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “You’ve got a lot of fans,” she said with a smile. “Of the female variety.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  I tried to keep to myself and ignore a lot of the attention younger women throw my way. But I could have gone on for days about how doing the right thing hadn’t always panned out the way I’d hoped. Didn’t keep my mom around. Or Sarah.

  I decided against opening up, though. I barely knew this girl, and the last thing I wanted was to bare my soul to a sexy stranger passing through. A subject change was needed.

  “So . . . how exactly did you end up here?”

  “Long story,” she said with a sigh.

  “I’ve got no place to be.”

  “Well . . .”

  I could see her hesitation in revealing her reasons, which only made me want to know more.

  “I’m on my way to LA,” she finally said. “I’m moving in with a friend.”

  “Boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

  “A girl that’s a friend. Valentina.”

  “Okay.” I could hear the relief in my own voice. “New York girl moves to LA. That’s a big move. You running from something?”

  “The law,” she said plainly, causing me to nearly choke on the water I’d just drank.

  “Seriously?”

  Her lips twitched. “I shot a man in Reno.”

  When I realized she was yanking my chain, I was relieved and more than a little turned on by the girl’s wit. New Yorkers were pegged as being street smart, but this one didn’t miss a beat, so I played along.

  “Just to watch him die?”

  “You know my story?” She chuckled, and I laughed along with her.

  “I’m familiar. Johnny Cash is a favorite around here. I’m surprised you know who he is.”

  She grinned. “Even New York isn’t immune to a little country charm.”

  That’s what I was hoping. She wanted country charm, and I had it in spades. Hell, truckloads. I’d turn it up and get exactly what I wanted from her.

  “I just need a fresh start,” she said, confessing as much as I thought I was going to get out of her that night.

  Whatever she was leaving behind in New York wasn’t something she was ready to talk about, which was fine by me. When I’d walked over here, I was aiming for simple and easy. Too much talk of the past might lead someplace I didn’t think either of us were looking to end up.

  “Fresh starts are good. I’ve needed a couple in my life.” The urge to clear up the bad blood between us was weighing on me. Seemed like as good a time as any. “Maybe we get one? I might not have made the best first impression.”

  “Me either,” she admitted. “I was a jerk too. I promise I’m not a complete asshole.”

  “Same
here. All is forgiven.”

  The truth was, seeing her sitting there with her kissable lips and a look of vulnerability that I hadn’t seen from her yet, I would have pardoned her for actually shooting a man in Reno.

  “To fresh starts,” she said, raising her glass of water.

  “To fresh starts.” I nodded and clinked my glass against hers, grinning back at her. “So, about what you mentioned yesterday, a marketing degree from Yale.”

  “What about it?”

  “Any chance I could convince you to use it to help me out?”

  The cutest little line formed between her brows as she processed what I was saying.

  “See, I’ve got this fantastic whiskey that needs selling, and I’m about as useless as tits on a nun when it comes to social media and all that shit.”

  She giggled. “Are you asking me to help you market your whiskey, Luke?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “What do you want?” I teased, letting our stare linger for a few seconds. I would have given my left arm for her to say something along the lines of I want you to fuck my brains out. Especially when she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips as she thought.

  “What do you have to offer?” she said, shifting a little in her seat.

  As much as she was getting to me, I could see that she was feeling it too. The sexual tension. The heat. The chemistry. It was undeniable.

  “I can think of a few things.” I rested my forearms on the table and leaned closer. The sweet smell of her expensive perfume was intoxicating.

  “Well . . .” She leaned forward, mirroring my position, and it took a lot of willpower not to toss the table between us across the room. “I can think of one thing,” she said softly, drawing me in even more. “I’d really like that car part you said your buddy could ship from Austin.”

  “You got it,” I mustered up, drowning out the lust that was about to rip me in two. Never in my life had a woman riled me up the way this one did. My dick was so hard, I could have used it to pound nails, and all we’d done was sit here and talk tonight.

  “Good,” she said with a huge grin. “You’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter Six

  Charlotte

  Two hours later, Luke and I stood in the parking lot of the bar. I leaned against the side of his big black truck as I watched him, my lips turned up in a smile.

  “Turns out you’re not so bad,” he said, his mouth twitching as he watched me.

  “That so?” I placed a hand on my hip.

  Leaning closer, he tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear and shrugged. “When you’re not running your mouth, you can be downright tolerable.”

  When his full lips blossomed into a wide smile, something inside me zinged. Laughing, I shook my head.

  We’d spent the evening talking, eating pizza, and sipping on whiskey. I felt relaxed and loose. All my worries had taken a back seat to this gorgeous man with his cocky personality and mega-white smile.

  Luke couldn’t seem to stop touching me—his hand at my lower back as he led me from the bar, the way he rose to his feet and helped me from my bar stool when I needed to use the restroom, and now, his fingertips grazing my bare arms and then touching my hair. His attention was dizzying, because I wasn’t used to forward men.

  Well, that wasn’t true. I was used to men who were forward with their self-accolades. Bragging about how much money they’d made in the stock market, about their Fifth Avenue address or their job title. Those were things I was used to.

  Luke was the complete opposite. I wasn’t used to a man who had nothing to offer but himself and yet gave it so freely—letting his interest be known, to hell with the consequences. Because the two of us? We made absolutely no sense. I would be leaving soon, and I had a feeling he would live out his life here and die in the same place he’d been born.

  We couldn’t be more different, but our bodies didn’t care. The chemistry zipping between us fueled an attraction that grew with every barb we lobbed at each other. He was fun and challenging in a way that was entirely new.

  “When you feed me whiskey all night, what did you expect? I tend to lose my filter,” I said, lifting my chin.

  “I did feed you more than whiskey. I wasn’t a complete asshole tonight.”

  I nodded, remembering the pizza we’d shared. “For once.”

  His mouth twitched again. “I kinda like you when you’re full of whiskey, duchess.”

  That damn nickname again.

  He winked at me, and I almost melted into a puddle right there in the dusty gravel parking lot. For the longest time, we stayed like that—our eyes locked together, our hips lined up, his hand at my waist . . .

  Are you gonna kiss me, or what?

  I didn’t have to wonder any longer. Luke’s gaze darkened and he lowered his head toward mine. I lifted onto my toes, needing to close the distance between us fast. He took my mouth with a soft kiss and I immediately responded, parting my lips. His tongue moved against mine in deep, drugging kisses that made my toes curl in my sneakers.

  Damn, the man could kiss.

  Turned out his truck wasn’t his only big possession. To my whiskey-soaked brain, it felt like a massive steel rod was tucked inside his jeans. Jesus, he was hung.

  Come to Mama.

  An older man headed to his car whistled at us. “Looks like somebody’s gettin’ lucky tonight.”

  Luke cursed under his breath and grabbed my hand. “People in this town are fuckin’ nosy. Come on.”

  Inside the cab of his truck, the scent of oil, leather, and whiskey created a warm, cozy atmosphere.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “I’m driving you back to the inn.”

  Disappointment flashed through me. Damn. So, we weren’t going back to his place for wild sex.

  “How do you know that’s where I’m staying?”

  His answer was a smirk on those gorgeous full lips. “God, you’re cute when you’re sassy. It’s the only hotel in town.”

  When we pulled to a stop in the parking lot of the little Victorian house that had been converted to a bed and breakfast, Luke shifted the truck into park and cut the engine.

  “You want to come inside?” My voice trembled only slightly, but my heart was jack-hammering against my ribs.

  “Better not.” His voice was rough, and I sensed his restraint was hanging by a thread, just like mine. “People in this town talk.” He reached over and placed his hand on my knee, giving it a squeeze. “Plus, I’m not gonna lie. I’m attracted to you, duchess, and I might not behave like a gentleman if I come inside.”

  “Maybe I’m done with guys who pretend to be perfect gentlemen.”

  He released a growl of frustration and leaned in closer, placing a soft kiss on my jaw. He could be such a stubborn, rough-around-the edges prick, and then other times, he could be so sweet and tender.

  “I almost hate to admit this,” I said, “but I had fun with you tonight.”

  “Me too,” he murmured with his lips inches from mine.

  Wetting my lips with my tongue, I fought off a smile at the way his hungry gaze tracked the movement. He started slow, his lips hovering at my jaw before he peppered soft kisses against my neck.

  “Luke,” I groaned. I wanted this, and I had no idea what had come over me. Maybe it was part of being on the run, but I wanted to sin. Wanted him to make me forget everything—my past, my mistakes . . . hell, even my own damn name.

  Capturing my mouth in a hungry kiss, he lashed his tongue at mine and I took everything he offered. The feel of his rough, calloused fingertips grazing my skin, the taste of whiskey on his breath, his masculine scent—it was intoxicating.

  Climbing over the center console, I planted myself in his lap and pushed my hands into his hair as I kissed him back. His kisses were rough and intense, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the way this man fucked. Would he take me hard an
d fast, or draw things out until I was a whimpering mess?

  Moving in his lap until I found the right angle, I pushed my hips closer, grinding against the steely erection behind his zipper that pressed at my core.

  His deep groan of frustrated need made my inner muscles clench.

  As I worked myself against him, we continued kissing, his hands locked on my hips as I rolled them against his. All my cards were on the table. I wanted him and he knew it. And lucky for me, it seemed he wanted me just as badly.

  Luke gripped my ass, working me against his cock. I was close, so close. Just a little more pressure . . .

  “Time out.” He groaned.

  Time out? Did he just call a timeout? Putting a few inches of space between us, I blinked to clear my hazy vision and gazed up at him.

  “I’m not fucking you in my truck. And if we go any further, that’s what’s going to happen.”

  My heart pounding, my panties soaked, I crawled from his lap. Partly annoyed at him and partly annoyed at myself for getting carried away, I grabbed my purse and opened the door.

  Outside the truck, the fresh air did wonders to clear my head. I was never like this.

  Luke’s sly smile was back as he hopped out of the truck, and he was back to rubbing my arms. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  Wasn’t that a good question? “I don’t know. I’ll have to check my schedule,” I snapped, still mad at him for calling a damn timeout.

  He chuckled again, low under his breath, and the sound vibrated against my skin. I had no idea how it was possible for this man to get under my skin so deeply, so quickly, but he had.

  “I was thinking if you’re free, I’d show you around the distillery. But you know, only if you’re free.”

  The wiseass. He knew I had nothing to do but sit around and wait for my car to get fixed.

  “I’m free,” I huffed.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight.”