Love Bites: A Sugar City Novella (Entangled Bliss) (2 page)

Why had Sharona always been so uptight about that sort of thing? Always needing a committed relationship—or at least the assurance that the commitment was on the horizon—before any fun, naked time. She’d been careful like that in her last relationship, and that had exploded in her face…an on-going explosion, actually.

Blue Eyes eased onto the bar stool at her side, and his knee pressed against her bare leg, at the same time, he reached for a napkin, brushing her hand. Whether the moves were intentional or not, another excited shiver sizzled at the back of her neck, heat unfolding inch by inch. Up close, he smelled even more amazing—and were those tiny freckles splashed across his nose?

She’d never thought this about a real-life man before, but…this guy was spectacular. Never had she experienced such intense, instant chemistry, not even with the man she almost freakin’ married.

“So,” Blue Eyes said, just before Sharona could get angry about Garry all over again, “you’re passing through Sydney but you won’t tell me why.” He leaned one of his toned arms on the bar. “You know that makes you irresistibly mysterious.”

Sharona opened her mouth, ready to launch in about her assignment and the stress and terror and baggage that went along with it. But then she wondered if it might be more interesting to play the cryptic card for once. After all, it could be fun pretending to be something she wasn’t for one night.

Whether the responsible side of her would have the guts to go through with anything past flirting was another story.

“Mysterious,” she echoed, toying with the ends of her hair like she’d seen Natalie do. “You couldn’t have described me better, Blue Eyes.”

“You’re making that up!”

Jeff couldn’t help laughing as the woman at his side tossed her head and giggled, shoving him playfully on the shoulder. He hadn’t meant to park himself next to the curvy brunette two hours ago, but oh, how revved he was now.

He shouldn’t have been in the pub at all, but the thought of being at sea tomorrow made him drop in for a relaxing pint. When he’d gone to settle the bill, he’d had the little surprise of the woman in black spilling her drink all over him. Again. He hadn’t exactly lied when he’d said her in-flight Bloody Mary had barely splashed him. He’d most likely have to throw that shirt away. Which he didn’t mind—especially now. Talking to the beautiful American with the great legs and killer smile put him in a very…forgiving mood.

“It’s true,” he said when they’d both stopped laughing. “My brothers and I were forced to take etiquette classes, every Saturday for two months. I told my mates I was visiting my grandmother, which seemed more manly at the time for some reason.”

“Visiting Nana.” She swatted his arm again. “Very macho.”

Jeff’s quick one drink had turned into three and a permanent spot at her side. Normally, he wouldn’t hit on a woman in a pub, especially the night before a job. But there was something about her—this no-named woman with the curtain of thick brown hair and the feminine giggle that reminded him of springtime. A little voice inside told him to stop stressing and go with it.

“Back to you,” he said, loving the way her nose sometimes crinkled when she spoke. “Does your food spilling occur only while traveling?”

She pressed her sexy lips together and laughed at a private memory, making Jeff crazy to know everything about her. “I’m afraid not,” she said. “I waited tables in college and I once dumped a whole platter of crab cakes on a woman wearing cashmere.”

“Tragic,” he said, chuckling at her expression. “Though I’m sure you looked extremely elegant in the process.”

She actually snorted a laugh, then put a fist over her mouth and blushed furiously. Jeff hadn’t seen anyone so adorably sexy in ages.

“There you go being elegant again.” He gave her a wink, causing her to lower her hand and smile, back to looking relaxed. “Which school?”

“Hmm?” She swept her hair off one shoulder, revealing a mile-long neck. For a moment, Jeff forgot his own question.

“You mentioned you waitressed while at university. I was wondering which school.”

Her lips peeled apart, ready to speak, but then didn’t right away. “No…I don’t think so,” she finally replied, fidgeting with the stem of her glass. “Sharing personal information isn’t part of tonight’s game.”

He felt his brows lift. “Is this a game?”

She smiled, letting her eyes lower for a moment and then nodded.

Oh, she’s good.

About a dozen scenarios popped into Jeff’s mind. All of which required the two of them enjoying much more privacy. “Ahh,” he said, returning her smile. “Excellent, I enjoy games. Tell me this, though…” He leaned toward her ear so they were almost cheek to cheek and he could smell her light perfume, graze a strand of her glossy hair. “What exactly are crab cakes? They sound as exotic as you.” They were close enough now that he felt her soft breath when she exhaled a laugh.

Of course he knew what crab cakes were. But two could play the mysterious card. After two hours of neither of them disclosing so much as a first name, Jeff knew exactly what game they were playing.

Although, technically, he’d never been a star player in that particular game. Among his mates, he was known as the “relationship guy.” What he wanted most from a woman was honesty, someone he could trust, particularly after he’d been burned by the most important person in his life. He hadn’t felt that kind of trust in a very long time. Once, he’d had it, but then it shattered beyond repair. Even the memory made his insides clench like a fist, a warning of past mistakes.

No, no relationships. He should focus on chemistry and fun and not worry about putting his heart on the line. For once in his life, he wanted it to be easy—no thinking, just action.

Maybe that was why sitting beside the chatty American with the chocolate-colored eyes felt so right. Every line he sent her, she shot a flirty one right back. This was one damn sexy game. And the way her black dress crept higher up her thigh every time she recrossed her legs put even more privacy-required scenarios in his mind.

“I think Natalie would love a bottle of this wine,” she said, as she touched her glass.

“She’s a connoisseur?” he asked, running his finger along the rim of her glass, stopping just short of brushing her hand.

“I want to give her something special—and non-Hershey. I hope I remember to call.”

Jeff considered asking if she’d like to use his room to make her phone call. He was just one floor up. Then he thought of other reasons to have her in his room. Prone to spilling drinks or not, she didn’t seem the type to agree to that. He felt like a player for allowing his imagination to go there.

But every time she laughed at one of his lame jokes or touched his arm, those sexy-time ideas rushed back.

“Well, my internal clock says it’s really late,” she said, tucking some hair behind both ears.

Jeff felt a wrench of anxiousness at her walking out of his life before he’d even learned her name.

“Actually, it’s early. You’re in Oz.” He pulled back a smile that he hoped was more inviting than nervous. When she locked eyes with him and lifted her own smile, his nerves dissolved. He gazed at her mouth, those full red lips he’d imagined kissing for the last two hours.

Okay, time to cut the crap. Ask for her name, number, Twitter handle, any personal information she was willing to throw his way. He should be a gentleman and stop thinking like one of the predators he studied.

Before he could ask, she tipped her glass, finishing her drink in one gulp, then laid a hand on his thigh.
Well, hello there
. Heat seared from her light touch and shot through his body, causing all gentlemanly intentions to disappear like a stone dropped in the middle of Sydney Harbor.

“You are staying here?” she asked then bit her lip. “I mean, I am, too, but…you have a…a room?”

The question confused him. Or maybe it was the way it was delivered. Despite her very deliberate hand on his leg, she didn’t know what she was doing either. Ha! The woman was just as clueless as he was about picking up someone at a pub.

“I do have a room,” he confirmed, curious to see what she would do with the information.

She nodded, then slid her hand off his leg and moved off the bar stool. The second her high heels hit the floor, she teetered. Instinctively, Jeff reached out and took her by the waist to steady her. He should suggest they take a walk—they probably both needed fresh air—or maybe they could find a quieter place to continue their conversation.

Before he could suggest either, she fisted the front of his shirt and pulled him forward until their mouths connected. Just like that. Jeff was too caught off guard to react properly. All he could do was dig his fingers into her sides, keeping her close, while keeping himself steady.

Maybe sensing his shock, his mystery woman fiercely broke their kiss, then slapped a hand over her mouth, her brown eyes wide open, like the deed had stunned her more than him.

Jeff tried to speak, but the kiss had left his heart banging against his ribs, harder than the aboriginal clapsticks he’d had when he was a kid.

“I can’t believe I did that,” she whispered between her fingers.

“I’m very glad you did,” he said, feeling the heat of her body as he held her waist. “Takes the pressure off me.” She didn’t move away. Maybe she didn’t really regret the impulsive action. But she didn’t make another move toward him, either.

The gentlemanly switch turned on again, reminding Jeff that it wasn’t good manners to let her kiss him and not reciprocate.

So he took her hand that was covering her tempting mouth and slid it away, revealing those lips he’d barely had time to taste. He inched his grip around her wrist, then moved her hand to his mouth and kissed it, keeping his eyes locked on hers. He wished he was doing much more than kissing the back of her silky hand, though throwing her on the bar and devouring her like a man-eater wasn’t a wise option.

But…he was only human.

Leaning forward, he brushed his mouth over hers. Her lips were soft and warm, parting for him as he went in for kiss number two, which was unbelievably sexy. She rested her body weight against him, wedging herself between his chest and the long bar. When his hand curved low around her hip, he heard her sudden intake of breath and knew he needed to get them somewhere private before he
did
throw her across the bar and they got arrested for public indecency.

With superhuman strength, he pulled his mouth away from hers. She was resting her hands on the tops of his shoulders, her face dipped, but he could hear her ragged, racing breaths, matching his own.

“Tell me if this is too forward,” he said in a low voice that was surprisingly shaky, “but do you want to come—”

“
Yes
,” she answered, exhaling hot breath on his neck.

He grinned and gave her hip a squeeze. “I must say, this has been the most pleasant surprise I could imagine.”

“You’re not very imaginative, then.” She gave him the flirty eyes. “Good thing I am.”

Jeff had no idea what that meant, but wasn’t about to miss the chance to find out. He dropped a few bills on the bar, then followed her out of the room. He should’ve cared that so many eyes watched as they left—after all, he stayed at this hotel whenever he was in town on business, and he was relatively well known with those who bothered to follow his type of career. He was always surprised when someone recognized him as “Great White Cruz” from those spots on the Discovery Channel.

Still, he didn’t have the brain power to care who noticed. The blood that should’ve been flowing to the top portion of his body was tied up elsewhere.

The second they left the noisy pub and rounded the corner toward the lifts, they were unexpectedly alone. Jeff seized the opportunity and pulled her in, locking her mouth into a deeper kiss, really drinking her in—the hint of her last cocktail mixed with flavored lip gloss, the smell of warm skin and moonlight. He cupped the back of her head and she slid her arms around him, her nails scraped across his back. His head swam, completely wrapped up in the moment, loving how she wasn’t giving him even a second to think, to reconsider.

This was
so
what he needed.

With their bodies crushed together, he pressed her against the closed lift doors and slid a hand down, exploring her body, stopping at her thigh. She gasped the second his fingers strayed up the inside of her dress. It wasn’t his style—all this PDA—but the way she kissed him and clawed him…

When she ran a hand up the front of his shirt, opening two buttons along the way, Jeff’s brain snapped awake enough to catch her wrist. “I prefer privacy,” he breathed against her cheek. “For many reasons, I don’t take my shirt off in front of just anyone.”

Her espresso-shaded eyes gazed at him as she reached behind her and pressed the elevator call button. “Give me two minutes,” she whispered, her breath labored, “and I’ll meet you back here.”

“I’m only one floor up,” he said, a thumb digging into her hip, the other stroking her lower lip.

She leaned in and kissed his neck. Heat spun from the point on contact down to the pit of his stomach. “Wait for me, Blue Eyes. I’ll be right back.”

Unable to do much more, Jeff nodded, though he didn’t like the idea of her leaving, not even for as little as two minutes, not when he didn’t know her name. But it was all part of the challenge, the easiness that came with their game.

So he let go and allowed her to step into the lift. When she blew him a kiss an instant before the doors slid together, he regretted not jumping in with her and finishing what they’d started—hotel cameras and all. Instead, he clenched both his fists and exhaled a deep growl. Evidently, he’d be practicing patience tonight, as well.

Just like those earlier two hours at the bar had flown by, so did the next two minutes. Two minutes stretched into five, then ten. Jeff had to keep stepping aside to let hotel guests in and out of the lifts.

After twenty minutes passed, he knew he’d been stood up. Though his ego when it came to women was more than healthy, he was surprised how much that stung.