Hitting on the Hooker
Hitting on the Hooker (Strathstow Sharks #1)(2)
Author: Mina Carter
Fuck me. His mind on a different track, he almost spat the mouthful he’d just taken across the bar, managing to swallow at the last moment and half choking himself in the process.
She grinned as he coughed and spluttered, offering him a napkin, the light in her eyes proving she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Saucy witch,” he muttered, wiping his mouth and looking at her with a keener gaze. Oh, this one was much more intelligent than the usual bimbos who crowded around the team. With a thrill, he realised he’d have to step up his game.
“Witch is it? Be careful or I’ll put a spell on you.” Her tone was light and flirtatious as she picked up her glass and took a sip.
“Sweet thing, you can put a spell on me any time you want.”
He moved closer, sliding his hand around her waist until he could feel the heat of her body beating against his through their clothes. She didn’t argue, just watched him over the rim of her glass. Emboldened, he stroked his thumb against the curve there, a soft caress but one that signaled his interest.
She made a show of looking around at the rest of the bar. The fact that she had to rise on tip-toe to look over his shoulder fed his male ego. Not as tall as the rest of the squad, his lack of height didn’t bother him, but she was so tiny that he felt huge next to her. He’d have to be careful not to hurt her.
And just like that his mind headed for the gutter again, feeding him images of the two of them locked in passion, her slender figure spread out nak*d beneath him, over him, in front of him…
“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly cast a spell in here. Too many people.”
No f**king way. She did not just hand him an opportunity like that. Startled, he looked at her. Her chin was tilted up, set in a defiant line, and she watched him, an expectant look in her eyes.
Shit. She had. She knew exactly what she’d just said.
“Well. We could go somewhere more…” he lowered his voice and tugged on her waist until she was flush against him. Her lips parted in surprise as their h*ps met, his c*ck hard in the prison of his pants and more than ready for action. “Private. If you’d like.”
He waited, giving her the chance to back out. To step away, smile and make her excuses. He was no oil painting, and he knew it, but he had more than enough stamina to give her the best night of her life. Hell, with how horny he felt right now, the best week of her life, if he could persuade her to stay nak*d in his bed that long.
She swallowed, the confident mask slipping and granting him a glimpse of the woman beneath. A small tremor rolled through her body, and his heart softened. She was nervous. Why, looking the way she did, he had no clue, but she was.
Slow so as not to scare her off, he tucked a finger under her chin and lifted it. He bent his head, senses on alert for the first sign of tension in her body, and brushed his lips over hers. They were soft, sweet, and oh-so enticing.
Schooling the groan that wanted to break loose from his throat, he kissed her again. One kiss, two. Slow. Innocent. He kept things light, although all he wanted to do was crowd her back against the bar and kiss her to within an inch of her life. Lifting his head before the temptation grew too great, he looked down.
The dazed, sultry look on her face nearly did him in then and there. His c*ck jerked savagely, a wave of possessiveness washing over him so complete that he almost staggered under the force of it. He leaned down to whisper into her ear. “Say something now, or I’m going to take you home and screw you senseless.”
Chapter Two
What the hell was she doing? Fern fell silent as Tom took her hand and led her from the bar. He stopped for a second to talk with another man, one built like a small mountain. She couldn’t do more than offer the guy a tight-lipped smile, heat burning into her cheeks like napalm.
It had to be obvious what they were up to. God, how embarrassing. Before she could chicken out though, Tom led her out of the bar. She shivered as the night air hit her, her thin dress scant protection again the cold.
“Here, let me.”
He shucked his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Warmth and the scent of his cologne, sharp citrus and sandalwood, surrounded her. She breathed a sigh of pleasure but frowned, starting to shrug out of it. “But you’ll get cold. Take it back.”
“Cold? This? This is mild compared to what we train in.”
He wrapped the jacket about her with a tight grip on the lapels. Leaning down, he kissed her again. A lingering kiss that was over too soon. Her lips tingled as he lifted his head, and she couldn’t help a pout of frustration.
He rumbled, a low sound of amusement from deep in his broad chest. “Soon, I promise. Riggs is calling us a cab, but it’ll take a couple of minutes to get here so how about you come over here and keep me warm.”
Keeping his grip on the jacket, he walked backward until he leaned against the wall, pulling her closer. She stepped between his spread thighs, hands splayed over his chest for balance, but he carried on tugging her until she rested against his hard body. She bit her lip at the leashed power in his frame, the muscles beneath her hands corded and tense.
She’d never considered herself the delicate type of female, apt to swoon at the mere presence of a man, but wrapped in his arms, she felt tiny and feminine. He surrounded her, his body language both protective and possessive.
He held her close, one hand sliding to the nape of her neck while the other slid down the length of her back to cup her ass in a bold move. She gasped as he pulled her flush with his h*ps again, his interest pressing hard into her belly. Sparks of arousal fizzed through her veins, tingling along every inch of her skin and settling low in her abdomen. An achy, nervous feeling as though a thousand hyper-active butterflies took up residence.
His lips curved towards a smile as he looked down at her, still taller even though he was in a slight squat against the wall. She liked that, liked that he was so tall and powerful. The light in his blue eyes was warm, with a hint of darkness lurking behind them. A heated darkness she wanted to see much more of.
He bent his head, nudging at her nose with his, more a nuzzle than anything, before he claimed her lips. Again, he was soft and gentle, but the tension in the musles beneath her hands told a different story. He was holding back, and she didn’t want that. She wanted all that power unleashed. Wanted to feel it, taste it.
So she moved in, pressing against his h*ps with hers to trap his hard c*ck between them. Sliding her hands up to his shoulders, she kissed him back, angling her head and parting her lips in invitation.
He growled, a low sound deep in the center of his chest that she more felt than heard. His fingers tightened, gripping the rounded globe of her ass as he took her up on her offer. His tongue slid past her lips to stroke along hers, and she became a victim of her own plot.
Pleasure and anticipation rolled through her in equal measures as he lazily kissed her. He didn’t push, didn’t touch her up or grope, just kissed her, as though she was the only woman in existence. Gently, as he learned the shape of her lips and thoroughly, as though he were committing them to memory. She could get used to this, the way he held her and kissed her tapping into something deep within her.
Her breath caught when he pulled back, teeth grazing against the full curve of her lower lip. Her hands became claws to mangle the collar of his shirt. She moaned in frustration when he pulled away and tried to drag him back.
He rumbled in amusement, dropped a quick kiss on her upturned lips, and stood straight. “Shh, it’s okay. Just the cab. Come on, before you get too cold.”
There was fat chance of that, she mused as he led her across to the cab parked at the curbside, his arm firm around her waist. Which was a good thing, since her legs didn’t appear to be working at the moment. Not due to the alcohol. Anticipation and the cold air had burnt that out of her system as soon as they’d left the bar.
No, it was all him and his soft approach. It was so different to what she’d expected of him, of a rugby player, and was so sexy and seductive that she was hooked. Totally and utterly hooked.
She didn’t catch the address he gave when they were settled into the back of the cab, but she wasn’t worried. The whole bar had seen them leave, and it wasn’t like he was hard to identify, not built the way he was. Besides, she felt safe with him, a knowledge that arrived from nowhere but a gut feeling she trusted. There was something about his manner, the way he looked at her and touched her that told her he would protect her with his life if need be.
Leaning back as the car pulled off, he pulled her back into his arms. She went happily, settling into his side, her head pillowed by his muscled arm.
“You warm enough?” He leaned into her, keeping his voice low. His warm breath whispered against her ear, and she nodded, feeling like she was caught up in a little cocoon that contained just the two of them.
The journey passed in silence. Not a comfortable one, but one super-charged with awareness. His thumb stroked down her arm, the pressure felt even through the layers of his jacket, and he reached out with his free hand to capture hers.
Half turned on the seat, he surrounded her, his broad shoulders blocking her view out of his side, but he didn’t kiss her, not on the mouth. His lips grazed her temple in small caresses that kept her blood simmering. What would he be like in bed? Soft and gentle? Slow but determined? A shiver hit her as her p**sy clenched hard in anticipation.
The car turned left into a residential street, and pulled up outside an apartment block set a little way back off the road.
“Just a minute, mate.”
He moved his fingers under her chin to make her look up at him. Restrained heat and control swirled in his eyes, the light color reflecting the street lamps outside.
“Last chance, Fern. I can have the guy take you home now.” His lips quirked. “As long as you give me your number, because I’d really like to see you again. Or you can come in.”
She bit her lip for a second, trying to calm the shiver that held her body in its thrall. “And if I do?” Would he still want to see her after?
Triumph flared in his eyes, followed by a heat so intense her ovaries threatened to spontaneously combust.
“Then you’re all mine.”
*
The wait as Fern made her mind up all but killed Tom. Somehow he managed not to kiss her until she agreed to anything he wanted. Given her responses to him outside the bar, he knew he could. Easy. Just the thought of kissing her again had his c*ck pulsing, and his balls pulled up tight. God, what was he going to do if she said she wanted to go home?
He’d let her go, even if the very thought had all his instincts demanding that he haul her out of the car, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her off so he could make her his. Not the actions of a civilised man, but around her, he didn’t feel civilised at all. He felt barbaric. She was his. Even if he had to woo her over weeks…months…he would get her into his bed. But he’d have the worst case of blue balls ever, if she decided to go home now.
“Okay.”
There it was, that one little word. His breath punched out of his chest in a rush, relief making him light-headed for a second. She wanted to come in. Thank f**k for that.