The tiny, playful smirk that landed on his lips was so damn enthralling. “Good.”
“It’s getting late. I should probably call it a night.”
He pulled out his wallet, taking a business card out and folding it into my hand. “When can I see you again?”
I put his card into my clutch, smiling. “Sometime?”I think I am getting the hang of this flirting thing.
“Well, why don’t you write your number down and let me call you soon so we can figure something out.”
I scribbled my number onto a bar napkin for Adam. “Sorry, I’m not important enough to have business cards.”
Putting the napkin in his wallet, he laughed a little. “I’ll be the judge of how important you are, and having business cards is totally overrated. I’d much rather see your handwriting on a bar napkin; it’s one of a kind, not a dime a dozen.”
Chapter 8
Gavin
Slam. I threw her hard against the wall, pressing my chest against hers, knotting my fingers into her messy hair.
She tasted like white zinfandel and cigarettes, two of the most loathsome tastes in the entire world, but she was hot.
She’d do for one night.
Pulling her leg over my hip, I ran my fingers up her tight skirt, finding her lack of underwear hilarious.
Bar slut.
I knew I needed to stop this one-night stand crap, knew I craved companionship, but during the season, with my hectic schedule and being on the road so much, dating was not in the cards.
I kissed her perfume-covered neck.Fuck.Chanel No. 5—the same shit Marsheila used to wear. There I was trying to fight through the memories when all I wanted was to just get a nut off and pass out.Is that too much to fucking ask for?It had been over two years since I was left at that altar and she was still plaguing my mind.
What in the ever-loving fuck?
Get a goddamned grip.
She moaned. “I can’t believe I am at Gavin Hayes’ apartment.”
“Believe it sweetheart, this is going to be a night you will never forget.”
In the dim light of the apartment, I could barely make out her skin tone or actual hair color, but who the hell cares about that shit when it really comes down to it? I was a firm believer that having a type when it came to women totally stacked the deck in the wrong favor.
Fuck it.
I threw her over my shoulder, arm hooked right under her tiny ass cheeks.What was her name? Kayla, I think her name was Kayla, or was that the brunette I was talking to at the beginning of the night? Damn it.The manhattans were starting to play games with my memory already.
Giggling, her breathy voice came from behind me. “Where are we going?”
“The shower,” I stated sharply as I rounded the corner into the master bathroom.
She wiggled a little in my arms. “But, wait! I don’t want to get my hair wet.” The whine that laced her tone was fucking annoying.I’m going to have to fill that hole fast so she shuts the fuck up.
“Quite frankly, my dear, I don’t give a flying rat’s fucking ass.”
Setting her down on the bathroom sink, I made quick work of unzipping her tight skirt and yanking her lacey blouse over her head.
I nipped at her neck.Yup. We need to get rid of that stench.
Getting down to my boxers, I turned on the shower.