Page 4 of Let it Breathe
2
Chai
"Oh, please," I said under my breath as I sat at the bar three feet from the famous playboy Donovan Bryant. I wasn't a sports fan. I hated football and hated athletes. Their cocky attitudes made me sick. The women who threw themselves at them made me hate my gender. The one standing between his legs, rubbing up against his manhood, annoyed me.
I came down from my room because I was too antsy about tomorrow’s presentation. I needed a drink and drinking alone in a hotel room was pathetic. Instead of enjoying my shot of Patron, I had to witness some low-class chick dry humping the wide receiver from the San Francisco 49ers.
"Donovan, baby."
I caught a glimpse of his face over her shoulder. He blinked when she called him baby. He was handsome. His coffee-brown skin was smooth, and he had no facial hair. No hair on top of his head, either. The light reflected off his bald head and made him look distinguished. I wondered what it felt like. As if reading my mind, his date reached up to touch it, but he stopped her and brought her hand back down. He probably required two hands on his member.
I studied his face in the mirror behind the bar. His green eyes popped against his brown skins, and his beautiful smile made my insides flip.
I turned away, shook the image of him grinning at me out of my head, and sipped my tequila. The clear liquid burned my throat, but it wasn't unpleasant. I didn't know tequila but knew wine. Wine would not accomplish my goal for tonight. Tequila worked faster.
I downed the rest of my glass and motioned for the bartender to bring me another.
"I'm going to use the little girls’ room. Order me another." She leaned in and went for the lips, but he turned his face at the last minute, and she got cheek.
"Okay."
She seemed reluctant to go.
"Okay, don't go anywhere. I'll be right back." She walked off, and he turned to watch her walk.
I smirked and rolled my eyes.
"Are we amusing you?" His deep rich voice caused me to stop mid-sip. I swallowed hard and turned my gaze toward him. He stared at me, and I exhaled.
"No, I'm just listening."
"Eavesdropping."
"I was here first. If you didn't want to be overheard, you should have gone someplace more private." I didn't recognize my own voice. It sounded way more bitchy than normal.
He continued to stare.
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
I shook my head and turned away from him. His gaze made me uncomfortable, which pissed me off even more.
"Don't you get tired of it?"Why am I talking to him?
"Tired of what?" He turned toward me and squared his shoulders.
"The women. Throwing themselves at you like that. Don't you get tired of them just"—my hands gestured out—"lying down spread eagle for you? No intellectual stimulation whatsoever."
"Wow, do you know what a guy likes." He winked and gave me a cocky smirk as he stared at my legs.
I frowned and turned away, determined not to let him get to me.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Chai." I shook my head but answered without facing him. I didn't need to look at him to know he was checking me out. I felt the heat of his stare everywhere. Suddenly, the bar seemed crowded, but we were the only people in here.
"What, like the tea?"
