Page 838 of One More Kiss

“Enough about me. What are your plans?” He rubs his plans, mischief glittering in his eyes.

We hardly spoke about anything related to him. “Plans?”

“Yeah, you know, go home with someone who’ll make your motor hum.”

“Here? But this is not the right place.”

“So?”

“So... I won’t find what I’m looking for. Besides, I don’t do one-night stands.”

“Then do a three-night stand. Or the whole-week stand. We are here for a full seven days. Enjoy it. Look for a man with a 10mm socket. You need it more than I do. Your engine needs a good revving.”

“My engine revs just fine, thank you very much.” I grind my teeth. “And what the hell is 10mm?”

“You know, a socket. A 10mm socket. A three by eight standard size.”

“Anyway, you are doing it.” He shakes his head. “Your gap needs a good plugging.”

“You seriously need to stop with these pick-up lines and innuendos.”

“I will.” He inclines his head.

I purse my lips and squint, watching him furtively.

He lifts his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I promise I will. I really will stop, but after you’ve spoken to him.” He juts his chin up. His gaze focuses on something behind me.

His words pull a slight grimace to my face, and I struggle to find the right words to stop him from pushing me around. Alas, all that comes out is a simple, “Who?”

“Him.” Cal points his finger behind me. “He’s definitely older and handsome.”

I look over my shoulder, my breath stuttering, and my heart stumbles, trembling inside my chest.

There, in the far corner, a man is sitting alone in a booth, sipping beer from a bottle. His gaze is intense. Almost predatory.

Watching.

Plotting.

Waiting.

The disco lights in the center of the club kiss his silhouette, casting a glow on his being. Hair styled behind, a stubble shadowing his jaw, feet tapping to the beat.

He looks in his mid-to-late forties; I think. Hard to pinpoint his age under these dim lights.

His head edges to the side, eyes shifting toward me as if feeling my gaze on him.

A shiver tumbles down through me when our gazes engage.

My pulse spikes, and an emotion I can’t put my finger on rushes through me.

It’s hard to make out what color his eyes are. But I can tell they are dark with need.

And just like that, an image flits through my head of his eyes taking in every inch of my body, his hands exploring my heated skin, and his lips finding my sweet spots.

And together we burn the floor.

Coiling.

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