Shit, we’re back to that. “Want some company?” I try a subtler approach, softening my request to that of a friend versus a potential lover.
“I’m not sure Mickey would like a tag-along.” Her eyes flash, along with her smile.
“Mickey? You’re going out with a mouse tonight?” I’m hopeful she’s joking around, and her date is with a Disney movie.
She stares at me as if I’m stupid, mouth hanging open, and I laugh.
“No, jackass. Mickey and I sing karaoke at O’Toole’s every Monday night. It’s a standing date.”
Taking a long drink, I try to decide if she told me where she’s going because she wants me to follow or if it’s a slip of the tongue. Either way, I’m not leaving tomorrow without seeing her again.
The sun is setting and with its fall, the breeze coming in from the water chills the air. A short burst of wind whips through the bar. Faith’s dark brown hair is wound in a loose bun on top of her head and long wisps of it blow with the current. I’m stuck on her, and I can’t look away. Closing her eyes, she tips her head back and breathes in the salty air. Her expanding chest and the pink framing her arched, ivory cheekbones suggest she finds pleasure in it. At the same time, goose bumps break out on her arms and her nipples pebble into hard points under the thin triangles covering her tits. Sweet Jesus, what my mouth and tongue could do to them.
It’s painful, but I manage to drag my eyes up to hers and ask, “You like to sing?”
She straightens, opening her eyes so they settle on mine. “Mickey roped me into it a long time ago,” she says while shrugging. “I’d do just about anything for him, so when he asked me to sing I agreed.”
Jealously flares hot and deep. Her voice wrapped around someone else’s name doesn’t sit well with me. I have to know what I’m working with here. During my research I didn’t find anything about Faith having a boyfriend. This is news to me. “Are you and this guy exclusive?”
Her smile holds a secret; it’s sly, and I have an urge to take her mouth with mine and suck it until she only remembers my name. This instant feral attraction isn’t something I’ve encountered often, if ever. I can’t remember when a girl left me wrung out and weak just from sharing the same space.
“I think you and Mickey might like each other. Why don’t you come along?” she finally says, laughing when I choke on the beer sliding down my windpipe.
“You want me to meet your boyfriend?” I ask on pitch, miming Michael Jackson. Thriller is cool and all, but I usually don’t reach his heights.
“I think I remember you asking to spend time with me. Monday night with Mickey is the only way you’ll get to. Your choice.”
For a second time, I’m speechless—another unfamiliar reaction. But her gaze draws me in and I’m cooked. Leaning in, she eyes me up, a good, long, thorough, eye-fucking look, and I’m standing to attention. She stares at my mouth and I’m drawn to hers. When her tongue skates over her thick bottom lip, I have to physically hold back a groan. I want that mouth all over me, fucking everywhere.
“There’s something about you, Cowboy,” she whispers with a husky voice. “I’ll let you come along, and if Mickey likes you I just might break one of my rules.”
“I’m not much into threesomes with dudes named Mickey.”
She laughs. “That implies a couple of things. One: You think we’ll have sex tonight, and two: That I’d even consider a threesome,” she says, the smile still lighting her face.
She has the face of an angel and my world stands still. A fuzzy goddamn haze blurs the edge of my vision and I can’t see anything but the sweet thing in front of me. I’ll be damned. Granddad said this would happen when the girl of my dreams walked into my life and I’d do anything to keep her in mine. Well shit.
This changes everything.
“I’ll break it to you gently, Faith.” Lifting off of the stool, I get close. Her sweet, fuckable mouth is a second away from mine. “We are having sex tonight, just you and me and the sheets, and maybe the sand, and the shower, and quite possibly a table or a wall.” The rush of breath she expels rolls over my lips and I dive in, catching her off-guard. Keeping my eyes open I watch her expression, starting with the flare of surprise and relaxing into the feel of me. My mouth molds against hers and I drag my tongue along the line of her lips, tempting her to open for me. God, she tastes of heaven, and its hell to hold back.
Her low mewling is nearly my undoing. If she keeps this up, I'm going to throw her on the bar and take what's mine.
“Don’t make a sound,” I whisper in warning. Hazy with lust our lips brush together, neither willing to break the connection. It feels too good. Her eyelids part but remain heavy, and sexy as all fucking hell.
“Get your things and let’s go meet Mickey,” I say, throwing money on the bar to cover my beer and willing our night to begin.
Faith
Thoughts are jumbled and suspended altogether while his mouth moves over mine. The light glint of his tongue weakens my knees, and I’m lost wondering what it would feel like if we really delved into each other: Santa’s coming to town anticipation, Fourth of July firework explosions, or a combination of both. Both, I think. No, I’m sure of it. Somewhere I realize he’s told me to get ready to go, and yet I can’t bring myself to move.
The frenzied buzz of his silenced phone sounds off on the bar top and he breaks from me to reach for it. Checking the caller I.D., he answers with a small smile. “Hi, Boss-Lady.” Chuckling into the phone, he brightens with laughter. “Yeah, it’s all good.” Listening for a minute, he nods and catches my eye. “Tell the big guy everything’s fine. She hasn’t shown any indication of violence so far.”
I huff and it spurs me to move, finishing my end-of-shift routine to clean up my space. “I will, yeah, tomorrow morning. See you then.” Without waiting for me to ask, he says, “My boss. She’s just checking to make sure you haven’t harpooned me and tossed my body out to sea.”
“Be sure to pass along my thanks for the idea. I’ll keep it in mind if you get out of line,” I say, while grabbing my small bag from under the counter and a tank top from within it. Sliding it over my bathing suit, I shout a brief farewell to my co-workers, Brett and Todd. I step out from behind the bar and Kyle meets me at the end, hands stuffed into the low-slung jeans hanging from his hips. For the first time I realize his lean physique. He’s strong. The muscles ripping under his tight tee, across his chest and bulging his biceps are proof of that, but he’s not bulky. Broad shoulders narrow into a tight waist with long legs that clearly pronounce him all man, sexy and tall, reaching to at least six-two.
This man could rip me apart, and I don’t just mean physically. I’ve fought hard to keep my life in a compact box these last two years, leaving little room for anyone but a select few people I trust. Now Kyle pops out of nowhere with his sinful smirk and hard body, and I want to let him in. But how does he know my name?
“I think the better question is who’s going to check to make sure you leave me in one piece?” I mumble, while staring at the evidence of rippled abs.
“Faith, I get it. I've asked you to take a chance on me,” he says, running his hand through the current disaster he calls hair. “I will never hurt you—never. It’s probably hard for you to believe that because we just met, but I need you to know it’s my job to protect, and I’ll do that for you too.”
He’s all heartfelt promise and seductive man at the same time. I’m not fooled into believing what’s between us will last more than tonight, though. What I do know is I trust him. For whatever reason he’s silently screaming sincerity, and I believe every word. I may end up in the marsh in tiny pieces, but something is telling me I won’t.
His eyes are piercing, imploring for my understanding. My answer is to nod and turn, keeping on track to meet Mickey. Bright colored beach houses and sand give way to a board walk. Bars and restaurants pepper the lane; muddled voices with the occasional high pitched laugh, surround us on either side.