Page 44 of Whiskey Chase
“Pepsi,” she said with a wink.
“Any reason why?” I asked, barely daring to breathe.
“I think you and I might have plans later tonight.”
Merciful heaven. My heart stopped. I was, for all intents and purposes, dead on my feet with the anticipation of what I thought she was saying. It jump-started with an awkward limp, and then I was breathing again.
“So, want to get out of here?” I was only half joking.
She laughed and ran her hand over my chest, down the buttons of my shirt. I went rock hard when she rose up on her tiptoes and let her lips brush my ear. “I want to spend my evening flirting with you before I spend my night fucking you.”
And just like that, any drop of blood I’d had left in my head dropped south so fast I saw black creeping in on the edges of my vision. “Huh,” was all I could manage.
“Beer’s up,” one of the old guys said, handing me a pint glass of whatever the hell I’d ordered. “You sure you don’t need smellin’ salts, boy?”
Scarlett grinned and grabbed my hand. “Come on, Dev. We’ve got a table up front,” she said, pulling me along.
The group thing was no longer a concern for me. Not when I knew tonight wasthe night. However, I was in no state to make eye contact with Bowie and Jameson, or Cassidy and June for that matter. I nodded to the table and sat, hoping no one would notice the raging erection in my jeans. As if reading my mind, Scarlett dropped her hand in my lap, and I nearly jumped out of my chair.
“You all right there?” Cassidy asked, raising an eyebrow at us.
I grabbed Scarlett’s hand and moved it a few inches away from my cock.
“All good,” I assured her.
Scarlett smiled smugly.
“Hey, June,” I said.
June held up a finger, staring intently at the screen of her phone.
“Don’t mind June Bug,” Cassidy said. “She’s watching some game and absorbing every measurable stat with her big brain.”
June intrigued me. Not the way Scarlett did. That was lust and biology and chemistry and a good old-fashioned crush rolled into one potent cocktail. June was different. She was incredibly intelligent and used her powers to store every sports statistic known to man. She also appeared to have no interest in human relationships. Unlike Gibson who just seemed to hate people, June was willing to take or leave human interaction.
Speak of the devil, the crowd broke into scattered applause when Gibson strode onto the tiny stage. He was dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt and had a guitar slung across his chest. He was accompanied by a keyboardist and a drummer of mismatched ages.
“That’s Hung on the drums,” she said pointing at the gray haired Asian man in a distressed denim jacket. “And the guy on the keyboard is Corbin. He plays a hell of a harmonica, too.”
Corbin looked like he was seventeen years old. He had dark, smooth skin and thick hair that stood up on his head. He was wearing a bowtie and Dockers.
There was no preamble, no introductions of the no-named band. Gibson launched them into a song about red Solo cups, and the crowd went wild singing along.
Scarlett sang and swayed next to me, and I put my arm on the back of her chair to keep her close. I didn’t want to be disrespectful of her brothers, but I wasn’t going to make it through this evening without touching her.
She leaned into me and smiled, and suddenly I wasn’t so worried about her brothers anymore.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said in my ear.
Hal-le-lu-jah.“Me, too.”
“Where would you be if none of the other stuff had happened? What would you be doin’ on a Friday night in your old life?” Scarlett asked over the music.
I focused on her lips as she said the words. She had the most beautiful mouth of anyone I’d ever met. A bottom-heavy smile with a plump pout. I knew exactly how it felt to have that mouth on me, and I couldn’t wait to experience it again.
She poked me when I didn’t answer right away.
“Fridays were usually receptions or some kind of dinner or fundraiser. Networking, making an appearance.” I reached over and tucked her hair behind her ear. She nuzzled against my hand.
