Part 8 (1/2)
”Nothing. I just remembered something I said to the girls one night about guys and their choices of drinks.”
”Yeah? What's that?”
She shook her head. ”Can't tell you. Bartender trade secret.”
He could imagine. ”I'll bet you can tell all about a guy from what he drinks.”
She frowned and laid her gla.s.s on the bar. ”You think so?”
”Bartenders have keen insight. So what would you say about me?”
”You like whiskey, neat. Though sometimes you'll drink beer. That means you're independent, not easy to pin down. You like your freedom, but you're not pretentious. No expensive champagne for you. You don't like to show off, but you are choosy-no, wait. That's not the right word. Particular. That's better. You're particular. You aren't going to pick up just any girl. She has to be the right girl.”
”You know all that just from the drinks I order?”
She took a sip of champagne. ”Yes. And you also don't pick up women in my bar.”
”Maybe because I'm waiting for you.”
She tilted her head back and laughed, that sound he loved hearing. ”You're so full of s.h.i.+t, Ty. I like that about you.”
He liked listening to her talk. She had a sharp mind, and seeing the gears of it working got him as hard as seeing her move on the dance floor. ”You think you know me, huh?”
”Actually, I don't think I know you at all. Most men are easy to peg. You I haven't figured out yet.”
He took a couple swallows of soda. ”I'm glad. I'd hate to be predictable.”
”You're anything but predictable. You annoy me. You like me, and you obviously want me, and you make no secret of that. I like that, because I don't much care for games. On the other hand, I don't want you to like me. I want you to go away and leave me alone so I can stop thinking about you.”
He grinned. She was just a little drunk, which meant she was relaxed enough to spill more of her inner thoughts than she was aware of. Which meant this was his opportunity to take things a step further with her, if he played the game right.
”I can't stop thinking about you, either, Jenna.”
She leaned her elbows against the bar. ”Really?”
”Yeah.”
”What do you think about when you think about me?”
This was a test. She was putting him on the spot to see if he was just bulls.h.i.+tting her.
Actually, he wasn't.
”I think about your mouth.” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb. ”I like what comes out of it when you talk to me. It's sa.s.sy and smart. And I sure as h.e.l.l liked kissing it. It's soft and wet and you yield under me like you want what I've got.”
Her chest rose and fell.
”I like the way you talk. Confident, but you're a bit of a smart-a.s.s. I like that about you, too. It means you're not a pushover. I don't want a woman I can walk all over. I want a woman who can stand up for herself.”
She licked her bottom lip. d.a.m.n distracting and he needed to focus on what he wanted to say to her.
”You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen. And you see a lot with them. You call people on their bulls.h.i.+t, and obviously you know men.”
”Yeah? In what way?”
”You know who's true and who's full of s.h.i.+t. You aren't going to fall for a line.”
She let out a soft laugh.
”I like these.” He swept his knuckles over the many earrings in her left ear, then leaned in close. ”Are you pierced anywhere else, Jenna? I spend nights thinking about it.”
Her eyes went dark. Interest or desire? He wasn't sure.
”And your tattoos. Those turn me on.” He cupped her wrist and caressed the tattoo of the earth, moon, and stars. ”It makes me want to get you naked and explore your body. So, yeah, I think about you a lot, Jenna.”
”I don't want to date you, Ty. I've told you before, you're the wrong type of guy for me.”
”So you've said.”
She inhaled, let it out. ”The problem is, there's this thing.”
”A thing.”
”Yeah. A chemistry thing, between you and me. And it's interfering when I go out with other guys.”
Oh, this was getting good. ”A chemistry thing.”
”s.e.x.”
”s.e.x.” He shook his head. ”Yeah, that's a problem.” He brushed his shoulder against hers. He understood the chemistry thing. Just being near her made his d.i.c.k spring to life.
She turned in the chair to face him. ”It is. What should we do about that?”
”I don't think s.e.x is a problem for me, Jenna. You already know how I feel. The question is, what do you want to do about it?”
She slid her fingertip down the lapel of his jacket, the look she gave him burning him from the inside out.
Yeah, definite chemistry. He was surprised flames weren't sparking between them. His breathing quickened and if she didn't make a decision soon he was going to have to make a quick exit, because this woman was driving him crazy.
”I think you should come home with me tonight and we can talk about it,” she said.
”Ready when you are.”
EIGHT.
JENNA HAD CONSUMED ENOUGH CHAMPAGNE TO KNOW she was inebriated, but not so much that she was dead drunk and unaware of what she was doing.