Read Just His Type (Part One) Online

Authors: Victoria June

Tags: #romance

Just His Type (Part One) (2 page)

BOOK: Just His Type (Part One)
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"Put it on my tab, please Shaun." The tall stranger's voice was low-pitched and smooth; a shiver ran up my spine. The cute bartender nodded in agreement and melted back into the darkness behind the bar.

 

"Thanks," I managed to squeak out.

 

"No problem." The stranger leaned in even closer and I could feel the warmth of his presence to my toes. I gulped nervously before tilting my head upwards to meet his eyes and knew instantly that I'd proverbially bitten off more than I could chew.

 

This guy wasn't just cute, he was downright breathtakingly gorgeous. His eyes were a light but brilliant emerald green, even the dark bar couldn't dim, there were wonderful laugh lines around them which hinted that he was older than I'd first suspected, and still somehow the ruggedness didn't seem out of place. But it was his smile which worried me the most; it made my insides melt into scalding liquid. My knees wobbled slightly as I tried to return his smile with confidence I didn't feel.

 

He held out a long, finely sculpted hand; each finger looked perfect. A dark tattoo of swirling lines crawled up the length of his bare forearm. "I'm Adam."

 

I took his hand automatically, gasping out loud as our flesh made contact. "Lilly."

 

"Like a flower?" He had to shout over the music and I had to stand on my tiptoes to hear his deeply timbered voice.

 

"Yeah," I shrugged. "I guess so."

 

"I like it, it suits you." Adam did nothing to hide the approving gleam in his green eyes and I wondered if I was able to hide my panic at being in over my head.

 

"Thanks." My reply was short, almost curt; but it was all I could manage under the circumstances. My stomach was aflutter with nerves.

 

"So what do you do for a living, Lilly?" Adam's smile grew slowly.

 

"I'm a journalist with the Standard. You?" He smelled so good up close I could have swooned.

 

"I'm a chef."

 

"Really?" I sounded disbelieving, but I couldn't help it.

 

His grin was broad and cocky. "Yeah, really."

 

"Sorry," I smiled bashfully. "You don't look much like a chef."

 

"Haven't seen many chefs then have you?" Adam asked roguishly.

 

I paused to think. "No, I guess not. Just on T.V. Why?"

 

Adam's deep chuckle reverberated in my chest. "Well, let's just say I'm pretty mild compared to most. The general public would be shocked by the appearance of a majority of the people who prepare their meals; we're an odd bunch."

 

I laughed. "I think you'd have to be; I imagine it's pretty crazy in a restaurant kitchen."

 

Adam nodded, leaning down closer as the chatter around us increased; I hadn't noticed the growing crowd, all my attention was focussed on Adam.

 

"Out with your friends tonight?" he asked warmly. "It looks like you're having fun."

 

"We always do," I laughed.

 

"What were you talking about over in that corner? I could hear you laughing from here."

 

I took a step closer to him as an impatient gaggle of college girls pressed up to the bar and put a hand on his arm to steady myself as they jostled. "Sorry," I apologized automatically before attempting to withdraw my hand from the intense heat of his skin. Adam chuckled and moved swiftly to hold my hand in place against his forearm; when he moved his hand away again I left mine resting lightly against his solid arm.

 

"Not to worry," he said smoothly. "I don't mind."

 

My mouth went dry instantly. There was a spark in Adam's green eyes which I recognized instantly and which terrified me beyond all reason. He wanted me and if I asked him to I knew he would take me home. I'd never done that before; I wasn't sure I could. I tried to clear the fog of arousal his nearness caused and address myself to the question he had asked.

 

"Just girl talk," I teased, trying not the blush. I was hardly going to admit to the exact topic of conversation.

 

"So men, huh?" Adam flirted back.

 

I laughed loudly. "Yeah. But I'll have you know that it wasn't my idea."

 

"Was this your idea?" Adam asked, running a finger across my glossy red lips; the shock of the contact froze me in my tracks. "Lipstick? You don't seem the type."

 

"I'm not," I confessed with a shaky laugh. "But you know." I shrugged. "When in Rome..."

 

Adam handed me a napkin from the bar. "You don't have to keep it on for me."

 

I wiped at the sticky red mess on my lips with a laugh. "Thank God."

 

Adam ran a finger again over my lower lip once there was no makeup to dull the sensation and make a mess; I could feel the heat between my legs flare instantly at the feathery light touch. "That's better," he admitted huskily.

 

I closed my eyes for an instant, desperate to keep my wobbling knees and ragged breathing under control. For a moment I felt like I was standing outside of myself, watching this unbelievable thing happen to some other girl, like it had a million times before. I wasn't the pretty one who got picked up by the hot, mysterious stranger at the bar; that was Rhiannon's domain. I was the shorter, curvier wallflower who quietly drank her beer and went home alone at the end of the night to her empty apartment and pet cat.

 

"Are you okay Lilly?" Adam asked lowly.

 

Another jostle of the crowd around us forced me to take an additional step closer to him, and I fitted myself easily between Adam's widely braced legs; my hand was still on his arm and I could feel it flex beneath my touch.

 

"Yeah, I'm fine," I replied, chancing another glance into his handsome face. "It's just a little warm and crowded in here."

 

The instant the words were out of my mouth I regretted them; I knew what they sounded like, I'd heard Rhi say them a million times before.

 

"We don't have to stay here," Adam suggested with a purr.

 

I hesitated and knew I wasn't imagining Rhiannon and Adele's stares from across the room. I could almost hear them encouraging me to take the next step; to think outside my usual boundaries; to do something unexpected for once.

 

I smiled slowly at Adam, pleased to be rewarded with an answered sexy grin. "That would be great. What did you have in mind?"

 

Adam curled one long hand into the curving span above my hips, fitting the slender length of his fingers around my waist until they almost touched my spine; I shuddered at the intimate contact but said nothing as he studied me intently before he leaned down to whisper lowly in my ear. "The same thing you do, Lilly."

 

His hot breath against my neck made me shiver with promise. I ran my hand down the dark, swirling tattoo on his arm to his free hand and fitted my small fingers into his. "Let's go," I whispered.

 

 

Chapter Two

 

 

He wanted to take me home and I didn't even know his last name; and for some reason completely uncharacteristic of me I found myself not really caring. I'd never gone home from the bar with a guy and never had sex with a stranger, but the idea of it was coursing hotly through my body. It was more exciting than I would have thought possible.

 

We had to walk past Rhiannon and Adele to reach the door and I had to admit to myself that made me even more nervous, but Adam just shot my best friends his devastatingly sexy grin while Adele wordlessly passed me my sweater and Rhi silently handed me her tiny clutch purse. I knew without looking that it contained a cell phone, enough money for several cab fares if necessary, and probably a few condoms. God bless my friends.

 

My legs wobbled uncertainly on Rhiannon's borrowed heels, but I managed to keep up with Adam's lengthy stride as we wound our way through the crowd and out into the cool spring evening. Adam waited in patient silence again as I donned my cardigan against the damp chill. I could feel his eyes taking in every inch of my torso before I drew the soft sweater over it and I somehow found myself at a loss for words at the unabashed appreciation which glinted in his emerald green gaze.

 

He reclaimed my hand without comment once I'd rearranged myself, and I followed nervously as he led the way from the brightly lit bar down to the end of the quietly dark street. "Which way?" Adam inquired with the same aplomb as if he was politely escorting me home after tea instead of taking me home for an entirely less honorable reason.

 

"Right," I said with only the smallest waver in my voice. The crowds and noise of the bar had given way to a dark and empty night and I was alone with a complete stranger who wanted to fuck me; I couldn't stop my small shiver of apprehension.

 

"Cold?" Adam asked huskily; there was such concern on his handsome face I instantly felt guilty for thinking bad thoughts about him.

 

"Not really," I fibbed. I wasn't willing to admit either that I was little frightened or that the spring air was chillier than I'd expected.

 

"Liar," Adam teased with his low, deep voice. He slung one long arm easily about my shoulders and nestled me against the warm length of his torso. We fit together perfectly, and even though he was in his shirtsleeves, I felt instantly warmer for the contact.

 

We walked silently for a time; I could smell the approaching harbour and that uniquely spring-like smell of freshly turned flowerbeds and newly sprouting leaves. The city streets were quiet as the old buildings flowed downhill to the sea.

 

"You up for a walk in those shoes?" Adam teased after a time, as I tripped again on yet another curb.

 

"Well, they're not mine," I explained with a shrug, relishing the solid weight of his arm across my shoulders. "But I think I can manage it."

 

"They belong to the brunette friend, I'm willing to bet," Adam laughed. "She seems like the type."

 

My curiosity burned. "What type is that?"

 

"The red lipstick, high-heel, tiny-purse, high-maintenance type." Adam's laughter was contagious.

 

"That she is," I admitted with a giggle. "But if not for her, I wouldn't have gone over to the bar and spoken to you."

 

Adam laughed huskily and gave my shoulders a squeeze. "I'll have to thank her later; but if you hadn't have come over to me I would have come to talk to you anyway, so the point is really moot."

 

"You would have?" I asked incredulously.

 

Adam nodded but said nothing.

 

"Why?" I blurted out, regretting the words instantly, hoping I didn't sound rude.

 

Adam shrugged. "Dunno. You looked like you didn't belong there, like you just wandered in and sat down by mistake; that intrigued me, I guess. That and I have an unholy weakness for redheads."

 

I laughed loudly before we settled into a comfortable silence. The buildings lining the old downtown melted away to reveal the vista of the harbor before us. The dark water shimmered with the soft light of reflected street lamps while the breeze off the water was softly cool and smelled like the sea. Inadvertently, we'd taken the long route to my apartment, but the progression had seemed natural; contentment settled deep in my bones.

 

"I love this city," Adam admitted gruffly. "I'm so glad I moved here."

 

"You're not an Islander?" I asked.

 

Adam shook his dark head and the lamplight glinted off his eyebrow ring. "Nope, grew up in Toronto actually, but when I was offered the job here I couldn't say no. The second I set foot on the Island I loved it."

 

"Yeah, it does that to you," I said with a laugh.

 

"You grew up here?" Adam stopped walking and pulled us up against a streetlamp on the edge of the quay; at our feet the black water lapped melodically against the wood.

 

"On the North Shore," I smiled faintly. "I'm a good, sturdy farm girl."

 

"I like sturdy," Adam admitted with a wink. "Sturdy is good."

 

"Thanks," I said laughingly; somehow Adam made me feel sexy, despite my sturdiness. When he wrapped both arms around me I just about stopped breathing.

 

"Why'd you become a journalist?"

 

I considered for a moment. "Insatiable curiosity, I suppose; I've always asked a million questions, even when I was a kid."

 

Adam chuckled deeply. "Yeah, I noticed that."

 

I ran a finger up Adam's forearm and over one of his swirling black tattoos; at first I'd been wary of them, but I had to admit to myself they were pretty sexy. There was something faintly Celtic about the way the lines curved and intersected. "What does this symbolize?"

 

He shrugged before reaching up and brushing a wayward lock of hair from my forehead. "I got that when I came home from France a few years ago; I guess you could say it's a celebration of sorts."

 

"It's beautiful," I whispered, tracing the matching tattoo on the opposite arm. "Are there more?"

 

"A few," Adam admitted with a chuckle. He pulled up a shirt sleeve to reveal the dark, undulating edge of a tattoo which encircled his bicep. "And there are some you can't see clothed."

 

"Really?" I enquired flirtatiously, not believing myself capable of being so coy; the fresh air had done wonders to clear the beer fog from my head, but still my attraction to Adam remained.

 

"Really," Adam assured me confidently. "Can we discuss this later though, Lilly? I'd really like to kiss you now."

 

I couldn't help but laugh at Adam's bluntness; his approach was so unlike anything I'd ever experienced and there was an earnest hopefulness on his handsome face which stopped the breath in my lungs with a jolt.

BOOK: Just His Type (Part One)
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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