Page 22 of Power
“Are you meeting someone?” I wondered aloud.
Jace’s lips pressed against his glass as he took a long, casual drink. Seriously, even watching him take a sip of his drink was borderline pornographic with how sensual it was, his lips softly pressed against the glass, his forearms on full display.
Oh, and let’s talk about those forearms. Long lines. Tattoos sprawled across his skin, which stretched tightly over lean muscles, yet his hands remained unmarked. Long, elegant fingers that drew my gaze. I couldn’t help but wonder how those bare, stunning fingers would feel, gliding over my skin.
“No. Just came in for a drink,” he answered.
“Stressful day of work?”
“You said you didn’t want to talk about work.” His eyes glistened with amusement.
“Mywork,” I clarified. “We can talk about yours.”
“I’d rather not.” Something dark flickered across his expression, gone before I could analyze it.
“Want to make a list of your own?” I offered playfully.
“Other people’s incompetence is infuriating to deal with.” The way he said it, resigned yet authoritative, made me even more curious about what he did. Sales maybe? You had to be good with people to exude this much natural charm. “Enough about me.” His tone bordered on playful again, this time with a sexual undercurrent. “I want to hear everything about you.”
I checked the rideshare app. “I have thirty minutes until my ride shows up.”
“That’s all you’ll give me?”
“You want more?”
“I was hoping for all night.”
My cheeks incinerated. Did he seriously just say that?
“That’s rather forward of you.” Delightfully so actually. Dampening-of-my-panties so. “We just met.”
“Indecision is one of the leading causes of failure,” Jace said. “When you see something you want, you need to make a choice and go for it.”
“Am I something you want?”
“Without question.”
“You know nothing about me.” I forced myself to sound reasonable. “I could be a stalker. Or someone who collects dead animal skulls.”
Jace’s lips curved as his gaze traveled over me slowly. My body responded, unleashing a tidal wave of warmth that rippled over my skin and pooled between my legs.
“I know you came to a bar to blow off steamwith your friend after what, apparently, was a terrible day, most likely terrible at work,” Jace mused. “Based on the fact you made a revenge list after said day, I’m guessing something big went down. Some asshole did something completely out of line, maybe even hurt you, and I’m banking on that asshole being someone you’re forced to work with every day.”
Holy observant, Batman.
I was frozen in his storm as he continued, “Based on the fact your friend is the one that came over to me and tried to hook us up, you’re not the type of woman that goes to bars and hits on men. At least not often. The way you carry yourself with a sophisticated elegance tells me you’re intelligent and care about your career. Most women who are half as stunning as you have body language that says they know every eye in the room is on them, but not you. You stare forward, looking at your drink, or during the best moments of the night, look over at me. All of it with the body language that you’re not acutely aware that you’re the most gorgeous woman in this bar. By far.”
Good Lord.Who actually talked like that? And why was it working so spectacularly well?
“How am I doing?” Jace asked.
I shrugged, resisting the urge to push back on the claim I was the most gorgeous woman here. Something made me want to match his confidence.
“Not bad,” I answered.
“I want to know more though.”
“Such as?”
