| 2 | Denied No More |
He turned and leaned his back on the table finally taking in the space. It was overly decorated in his opinion, but it certainly was festive.
Fucking Valentine’s day. Why the hell did everything have to be hearts and reds and pinks and shit. It was trying too got damn hard, but women loved this shit; so, it worked for him.
“Hey there, handsome.”
He looked at his forearm first when he felt the woman’s light touch, then met her light brown eyes. They weren’t quite as magnificent as Ms. Diaz’s, but the other woman’s were still pretty. She had long blond waves that cascaded down the back of her baby blue knee length dress that hugged her like a glove. Bright pink stilettos graced her slender feet.
She smiled up at him, her eyes glistening while she took him in. “You are fucking gorgeous. Thank God you look out of place here.” She looked around at the rather dense crowd. “All the right guys saying all the wrong things.” She mumbled.
He smirked, finding her interesting. “What should they be saying.”
She met his eyes and held them. “If they were smart? Nothing.”
He liked her already. If his gorgeous hostess was going to stay a prude, he wanted options.
The woman leaned into him, reached to the table to retrieve a pencil and paper jotted her contact on it and tucked it in his pocket making sure to fondle him a bit too.
Straight forward he could do. She was high on the fucking list.
He and the blond brought their attention behind them when they heard a thud on the table. He smiled when he found irate brown eyes glaring at him like he was a coffee stain on a white table cloth.
The blonde woman huffed bringing his attention to her when she ran her hand down the front of his pants. Then she walked away.
The hostess rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious you’re on the prowl.” She sniped.
And it’s obvious you want to fuck me. He kept that comment to himself...for the time being.
“How's the hunt going so far?” He face was twisted up in distaste despite her question.
He adjusted his lean on the table with a shrug. “ ‘Pends.”
“On what?” She glanced over at him a suspicious look in her eyes.
“Your answer.” He mused enjoying her immediate reaction.
“I thought my answer to your non-question, was clear when I slapped you.”
He laughed. “Not an answer. A reaction.” He adjusted his casual lean on the bistro table. He wasn’t able to break his gaze from taking her in. She was so pretty and her body was made like a goddess’s. He had a very vivid imagination and he could see her butt naked riding his cock.
She leaned closer to him granting him another whiff of her intoxicating fragrance. “What sort of woman do I look like?” She hissed, with venomous calm.
He knew she was trying to be intimidating, but her frustration only made him smile. “You kind of look like a school teacher. I wouldn’t mind teaching you a thing or two.” There was only ever one teacher that wasn’t a hag. Mrs. Sweeter. He smirked at the thought.
She stood up straight. “What are you doing here?” She crossed her arms. “You don’t even believe in Valentine's Day.”
“I believe that Valentine's Day is the most lucrative fucking scam on the market. But hell, what better way to meet women who’re already drinking the kool-aid?”
She frowned. “I’ll ask again, why are you here?”
“To tempt you with something tangible.”
Lacey smirked. “You're afraid of love aren't you, Devlin Sinn?”
He laughed inside because he figured her ass out already. Doe-eyed believer. Probably read those sappy ass love stories: perfect. “Nope, you hide behind it like it's some damn prince on a white horse. It’s fucking bullshit.”
“Hide?!” She snapped. His chest buoyed. He wasn’t sure why but he loved seeing her feather’s rustled. Her nostrils flared her chest heaved. “I've no reason to be scared.”
“Sure you do.” He gestured around them. “Everything planned down to the tee. Every doylee, every ribbon, every streamer. You're afraid of being out of control.”
She crossed her arms. “That's what love is being out of control and I love, love.”
He kept calm. “You covet love, true. But it's more appealing from far away.” He picked up a doily and turned it around in his fingers.
She frowned glaring at him. “I don't like you, Devlin Sinn.”
He laughed this time outloud. “I'm not asking you to like me.” He held onto her eyes.
“You're asking me to sleep with you aren't you?”
The corner of his mouth pulled up. He was wearing her down and she didn’t even know it. “There won’t be much sleeping going on. Liking and fucking aren't mutually exclusive.”
“They are for me!” She tossed her nose in the air, lip curled like she smelled something she didn’t like.
“Enough convenient excuses.”
Lacey clenched her fists at her sides.
He took the opportunity and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Let me taste you. Let me make you come.”
She gasped, when he intercepted her arm before she could make contact with his cheek again.
He glared at her challenging, exerting his superior height, and strength over her. She swallowed her eyes searching his face, his larger hand clasping her wrist. Her lips parted and her eyes fell to his mouth. Then her eyebrows tweaked and she glared back up at him a look of defiance etched in her now darker iris’s. “Let my hand go.” She demanded.
Devlin caught a couple other phone numbers on his way to and from the bar to grab a drink. He made his way back to his favorite little vantage point near the back of the crowd and scared off two corny accountant types from his spot. He glared down at them and they scurried off in a hurry. Devlin hadn’t seen his sexy little hostess since she rejected him for the second time. He hadn’t given up just yet. He knew he was wearing her down even if she didn’t know it yet. If he got one more face to face with her he knew she would finally give in to her own curiosity.
He locked eyes with a pretty red-head who was talking with a group of women a few feet away. He smirked at her and held her eyes. The longer the evening drew on the higher the chance that Lacey would keep her distance away from him. In the case of an emergency, he had to have a backup plan or seventeen, so far. The more the fucking merrier.
“Claudet.” The red-haired woman said, taking a lean on the other side of the table.
He let one of her bright red ringlets fall through his fingers. “Pretty.” He smirked up at her exotic cat-shaped green eyes.
“You look like the bad type.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes looks can be deceiving.” He let the pause hang for a moment admiring her pretty smile. “Other times their spot on.”
She laughed. “Which are you?”
He met her eyes. “I’m the type that’d rather show not tell.” He found Lacey's eyes across the room over the red-haired woman’s shoulder while he whispered into the woman's ear. He smirked when he saw he making her way over to him.
The pretty redhead raised a well-groomed eyebrow then tapped the table with her clutch. Devlin’s eyes traced the woman’s curves her cream colored skin hidden by the tight fabric of her green dress.
“Happy hour specials started at the bar.” Lacey pushed tickets at the woman. “First two drinks are free.”
Hesitantly, the woman took the tickets and backed away from Devlin.
Lacey poked a finger into Devlin’s chest and glared up at him. “Peddling the same bag of tricks?”
“You were my first choice but I'm willing to settle.” He watched her flushed cheeks and jittery hands that straightened piles of paper and put the pencils back in the little clear container she had on the table.
She frowned retrieving her hand. She looked dumbfounded at him her mind processing something. Her eyebrows pulled together not in anger but an emotion that he was struggling to decipher. “V-Valentine’s day is supposed to be about love.”
He smiled with teeth as his very real triumph started coming into full view. “Oh, I believe in that.” He took her hand massaging the palm with his thumb. He pulled her close by the small of her back with his other hand . “I will make you fall in love with your own desire.” He whispered, in her ear feeling a shiver ride through her body. “I will make you fall in love with your own moans, screams, fantasies.” He ran his fingers up her spine her body arching into his. Her breathing was shallow and difficult. All of her body’s reaction were making him want to fuck, without delay.
“I'll make it easy on you.” He kissed her neck delighting in her soft warm skin. “All you have to do is say yes.”
She pulled away to look up into his eyes. She licked her lips his eyes fell to her mouth. She bit her bottom lip her inner battle still waging. Her eyes fell as she debated, but there was no debate in his mind. She was his. His mind started conjuring up many nasty erotic things he wanted to do with her naked body. His mouth watered thinking about how she would taste, her soft skin under his hands. When she met his gaze again she shivered and averted her eyes to his chest with a nod of her head.
“I need you to say the word.” He pulled her body flush with his, irritated at how long it was taking her to fucking accept the inevitable. She knew what she wanted what was the problem? He grazed down her spine.
She moaned. “Yes.”