Temptation In Texas: Mike and Megan

Temptation in Texas: Mike
and Megan

by

Lynda Chance

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SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Temptation in Texas: Mike and Megan

Copyright © 2011 by Lynda Chance

All rights reserved. This book or any portion
thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author or publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or
reviews.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places,
businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the
author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or
locales is purely coincidental.

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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of this author.

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Dedication

To Clayton,

Thanks for the night in
Dallas County, Babe

****

Mike Sullivan looked around the crowded
restaurant with complete boredom. As he leaned back in his chair
and nursed his beer, he wondered how he had let his sister talk him
into this. Helping her maintain control of six fifteen year old
boys at any time was a nightmare. But why the hell she had chosen
this type of restaurant was beyond him. Obviously, the testosterone
running through the teenagers would make them think this place was
heaven. He looked around in near disgust as he saw nothing but
female waitresses in skirts so short that their ass cheeks showed.
And of course, the tits. Tits, big tits and bigger tits. That kind
of blatant, overblown, in your face sex had never appealed to him.
At least, not since around his thirtieth birthday. Thank God,
Stephanie was able to haul all those boys in her minivan. He could
leave alone in his own vehicle if he could just endure the rest of
the meal. He was going to cut this place loose just as soon as
possible without being the rude son of a bitch his sister regularly
accused him of being.

He turned his eyes back toward Stephanie as
he realized she was speaking to him. "I'm sorry, what?"

Stephanie rolled her eyes at
him. "I asked you where Heather is tonight. When you so
happily
agreed to meet me
here, you never mentioned where she was." Of course that was
accompanied by another roll of the eyes, because Mike knew if
anything, he had grudgingly agreed to help her out
tonight.

"I have no idea where she is." He stalled and
took another sip of his beer. He didn't care to let his whole life
story out to everybody. And that included his sister. At
thirty-four years old, he thought he was past the point where his
mom and sister should know his every little move. It irritated him
to no small degree. "I don't really want to get into this now, but
I'm pretty sure I'm through with her." His voice was as short as
his temper when he thought about Heather. Why it had taken him six
months to wise up about her, he didn't know. Thank God he hadn't
let her move in with him like she had been pestering him to do for
months.

"Mike, I swear, if you don't
keep treating the women you date like a convenient sexual outlet,
you'll never find a woman to settle down with." His sister's voice
was laced with irritation, and he could tell she had the age-old
idea in her head that there was a
right
woman out there for every man
who wanted one.

He just didn't want one. What the fuck for?
All they were good for was spending your money and leaving shit
strewn all over your bathroom counter. No, he was going back to
hook-ups. One night stands. It was easier that way. Less messy.
Granted, he might not have sex available to him twenty-four-seven,
but he could learn to make do with less. His mouth tightened. A
little less.

He looked up from his beer. He wouldn't find
what he was looking for in a place like this. He was selective in
who he slept with. Without conceit, he knew he could be. God had
graced his six-foot-two frame with lean muscles and a face that for
whatever reason, seemed to attract women. He really didn't see it.
True, he had a full head of dark brown hair, while so many men his
age didn't. But beyond that, he didn't know what sent them all into
a tizzy.

Even tonight, when their waitress should have
been humoring the boys, she had eyes only for Mike. But that type
of in your face, over eagerness left his mind cold and his cock
soft. Even the huge set of double D's didn't do it for him. They
were in all probability fake. Every waitress in this place had a
huge set of fake doub--

His mind stopped on the thought as a
different waitress came into his peripheral vision. He slowly
turned his head, his eyes drinking her in.

She was different from the rest. She was
different from the one hanging over him now, rubbing her plastic
chest against his arm as she set a glass of ice water that he
hadn't ordered in front of him.

The girl he had just noticed carried a huge
plate laden tray over her head as if she had done this many times
before. She moved over to their table, and spoke to the waitress
with the fake breasts. "Table number nine, Tanya. Here's your
order."

Mike's immediate thought when his eyes zeroed
in on the tiny, delectable boobs barely big enough to make a
cleavage was the question of how she had gotten hired at this
particular restaurant in the first place. Then his eyes rose to her
face, and the answer hit him with the same force as the arrow of
lust that hardened his cock and had his hand tightening on the beer
bottle in his hand.

Jesus
Christ
, she had the face of a Botticelli
angel. His muscles clenched in need as his eyes devoured her. She
was definitely on the small side, maybe five-two or three. But what
she lacked in height, she made up for in beauty. She had blonde
hair that hung to her waist, and her eyes were a color of dark
green, and reminded him of emeralds. Her nose was straight and
small, with a slight upward tilt at the end, and her lips were
pink. He didn't see any lipstick on those lips, and the pale pink
color was something he already wanted to taste. She was stunningly
beautiful, so beautiful, he didn't think he had ever seen her
comparison in real life.

She was slim, and her waist was tiny, and he
felt a slight trickle of sweat roll down his spine as he imagined
how that waist would feel when he gripped it with both hands and
brought her close for the moment of entry. She was so little, he
knew she wouldn't take him easily. Her passage would be narrow, and
he'd have to use a degree of force to push it in.

He continued to watch her as her eyes moved
around the table of boys, and then landed on him. The color rose on
her cheeks when she found his attention centered on her, and the
lust that gripped him strengthened into something that began to
take on a life of its own.

He quickly looked down to see if she wore a
ring that would be a roadblock for him, and he felt an immense
sense of satisfaction and an uncomfortable amount of relief when he
saw that her hand was bare. His gaze found those emerald eyes
again.

She quickly lowered her eyes from his,
finished dropping off the tray to the other waitress and moved out
of his line of sight.

****

Twenty-five minutes later, Megan rounded the
corner into the kitchen and finally took a deep breath. The guy at
table nine was freaking unbelievable, and her nervous system had
been shot all evening, ever since she had found him watching her
when she delivered the food to his table.

And his attention hadn't let up at all. Even
though that was the only time she had gotten that close to his
table, his eyes had never stopped tracking her. She felt like a
deer caught in headlights, and her insides were a mess.

The man was gorgeous. A
harsh face with rough good looks dominated a masculine countenance
that had all the waitresses vying for his attention. Tanya, the
girl waiting his table, kept coming back to the kitchen and telling
all the girls about him. She said he was too good to be true, that
he was so hot that he
creamed her
twinkie,
and one by one, the waitresses had
all made up excuses to stop by number nine that night. And it was
true. He had the kind of good looks a movie star had and a set of
shoulders that made you thank God you were born female.

But Megan never dreamt she would be the one
to catch his attention. All the girls were so pretty, and they had
bodies like Marilyn Monroe.

Megan didn't.

She was pretty enough, she guessed. A lot of
men went for blondes, and she did have nice hair and it was really
long. But she was as flat-chested as a pancake. It was a complete
mystery to her how she had gotten this job. But she had been
desperate enough to apply, and then Joe, the manager, had hired her
on the spot.

And now she had seen the most beautiful man
in Dallas County. He had to be.

It was just one more thing to add to the
emotional upheaval she was experiencing that evening. Her
boyfriend, Brad, had texted her and told her he was going to be
late picking her up that night. That was nothing new. He constantly
cut out on her, stood her up, and let her down. How much crap was
she going to take off him anyway? He spent all his money on booze
and marijuana, and she wasn't a four-twenty friendly kind of girl
anyway. His need to get high had always bothered her, and his
complete lack of responsibility was beginning to make her question
her own common sense.

But she had been with him for a long time.
She was use to him; he was comfortable, just like a pair of old
jeans. At twenty-three, he was the only lover she had ever had. She
had started dating him at seventeen in high school in the small
town in Alabama where she grew up, and when he had gotten a
construction job in Beaumont, she followed him there. Slowly, as he
had gotten fired from one job to the next, she had followed him to
Houston, and recently, to Dallas.

She really liked Dallas. She had a couple
friends here now. But Brad was bad for her. Tears glistened in her
eyes as she came to the realization that she had to find her
backbone. One more mistake, and he was history. She wouldn't waste
one more second of what was left of her youth on him.

****

Fifteen minutes later, Mike
watched the girl with
Megan
on her nametag move across the room with a tray of
drinks. Her eyes briefly skidded across to his, then just as
quickly moved away.

He took a long drag on his beer bottle and
wondered if she did it purposely. Did she know what those eyes did
to a guy when she looked at him and then cut them away like that?
Fuck. She had to know. With a face like that? And that sexy little
body? No man would be immune to that type of look. He sure as shit
wasn't.

He tracked her across the room with hooded
eyes. After she delivered the drinks, she reached down into her
apron pocket and surreptitiously glanced at her cell phone.

Whatever text she received had her biting her
lip and briefly closing her eyes as her steps stalled momentarily.
She pushed the phone back in her pocket and moved over to the
hallway at the back of the restaurant where he knew the restrooms
were located.

He excused himself from the table and
followed her to the back of the restaurant. When he entered the
vestibule that led to the restroom doors, it was empty. Knowing she
was in the ladies room, he briefly opened the men's room and saw
that it was unoccupied. He didn't go in, but turned and leaned
against the wall outside the ladies restroom and waited to make his
move.

****

Megan washed up with hands that shook. It was
over. She couldn't take Brad back. The final text telling her he
wasn't coming tonight was it. Her eyes filled with tears as she
realized she was in a city with no family and no boyfriend. Six
years of her life, down the drain. A single tear fell. She wasn't
wasting another second.

She stiffened her spine as she pushed the
door open and prepared to go back to work. Her step faltered when
she saw the tall, broad shouldered man leaning nonchalantly against
the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The oxygen stalled
in her lungs as she saw his eyes on her. Twin feelings of alarm and
excitement slipped through her veins. She lowered her eyes from him
and prepared to move away. But she couldn't be rude. "Hello." The
word was little more than a whisper.