Page 10 of The Playboy SEAL
She sees another guy she knows and leans over to kiss the dude’s cheek. Her gaze meets mine once again as she approaches me, winding her tight body through the packed crowd, a lowball of clear liquid in one hand. It’s almost full. Even in heels she’s about five foot five…maybe six. Moose didn’t lie. She’s a stunner. Not unlike my usual woman, though. You can tell she works out a lot. Her skin is pale—flawless. She heeds the doctor’s warnings to stay covered in the sun. She cares about aging well, which means she cares about the rest of the superficial things. Like waxing every important part of her body. I’m keyed into everything at once, dissecting every nuance of her body and the way she moves. Reading people is a skilled talent of mine. I use it in my job, but mostly it’s put to use in situations such as these.
Teala extends her hand. “Macs,” she says, pushing her lips to one side. She has blue-gray eyes. It’s a color that’s hard to describe. Like a stainless steel appliance wrestled with the ocean and the outcome was a stalemate. I stare a second longer than I should. Maybe she is a touch more beautiful than my normal woman.
“That obvious, huh?” I reply, taking her hand in mine to place a cool kiss on the back. She smells like a vanilla creamsicle—a dessert I want on my cheat day.
She shakes her head, tossing her hair, already on to my overt game. “Ryan told me enough,” she replies, using Moose’s real name. “Plus, I could tell you were looking for someone.” The problem with that statement is she wasn’t looking for anyone. “I’m Teala,” she finishes, letting her eyes wander from my face down my body.Hot chick retrieval is officially in progress.
“Sorry to interrupt.” I lift my chin in her companion’s direction. I raise my beer as an excuse. “I’m good if you want to continue your conversation.” I clear my throat and take a quick swig.
She watches my lips intently.
“I’m hungry. Let’s have dinner,” she says. “That was the plan, right?”
“Well, Teala,” I say, tasting her name on the tip of my tongue. “Usually plans are made with the probability of destruction. That’s life.” I catch sight of my reflection in the shiny material of the glass behind the bar and smile. “For the sake of your stomach, let’s stick to the plan and see how it ends.” And then the plan I have for after dinner.
“Oh, man. He didn’t tell you, did he?” Teala says, blinding me with white teeth.
She sips her drink, and my gaze dips to her exposed cleavage. It appears silky soft. I want to put my face in between her tits and rub myself against them like a cat.
I sigh. “Didn’t tell me what?”
“Your game won’t work with me. I’m better at it than you are,” she replies, her voice decisive.
Raising my eyebrows, I nod at Teala and signal for the attention of a waitress. I let her know we’re ready to be seated. I called ahead for reservations, and now I’m glad I did. I’m intrigued. As we make our way to a booth in the corner of the room, I glimpse Teala as she nods and waves to several people. My heart rate speeds up. The upper hand. She has it. And I can’t fix it. Not tonight, at least.
After we’re seated and I’ve examined her ass from every angle as she slides into the booth, she sets her glass down in front of her and pins her lips together with her teeth.
“You’re really hot, Macs,” she says. “I assumed you would be, but I have to say you’ve surpassed my expectations, and that’s an awful thing.”
I raise one brow. “Awful?”
She can’t possibly be one of those chicks who date down. Not with her looks. I slide closer to her until I’m sitting right next to her. My leg is mere inches from hers. I peer down at her.
“Anything but awful. I think you’re beautiful. Stunning even.” Superficial talk. This is comfortable territory. “Even if every other man in this restaurant shares the same sentiments with me.”
Without taking her eyes off mine, she says, “I own a yoga studio. Half of those people take classes there. I see them regularly. You’re inmyneighborhood, remember?”
I zone in on what she didn’t say. “The other half?”
“Are men I have been with.” She lifts and lowers one shoulder. A gesture to signify this is already old news to me.
Fuck. “A plus for honesty. Sounds like we both know what we want then?”
She smiles, but it fades quickly, and a mask of confusion transforms her features. I swallow hard. That’s not a promising sign. Fuck.
The waitress comes and takes our orders. We’ve both frequented this restaurant enough to know exactly what we want to eat and drink. To the degree that I’mwondering why I’ve never seen her here before. She scoots away from me, edging her way closer to the exit of the booth.
“Here’s the thing. You’re my type,” Teala says.
I grin. “Funny you mention it. You’re my type too.”
She shakes her head. “You see, the problem with this is that we don’t know anything about each other, and we’re able to determine this based on superfluous, meaningless attributes.”
I hold my hands out to the sides. “I still don’t see a problem with that. If you’re trying to explain through thinly veiled statements that we’ll blow each other’s minds while naked, then yes. I agree. Let’s do that. Mind. Blown.”
She watches my mouth, her own lips part, breaths pushing through a little more rushed now that I’ve exposed the elephant in the room for what it is. Sexual chemistry.
I set my hand in between our thighs. “Come on. What do you say?”
