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Down to You

Down to You (The Bad Boys #1)(21)
Author: M. Leighton

I watch her as she pours a drink with Taryn looking over her shoulder. I could pull Taryn to the side and demand that she ease up on Olivia, but I won’t. Not only do I think it’s good for Olivia—it brings out that feisty side of her—but I think she’d rather handle it herself. And I admire that. A lot. The more I’m around her, the more obvious it becomes that there’s a lot more to her than a shy smile and a pretty face.

And, of course, a body that I can’t wait to get inside.

And I will.

And she’ll enjoy every second of it. I’ll make sure of it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – Olivia

It seems like every time I look up, I see Cash. Sometimes he’s talking to clients, doing his owner slash manager thing. But other times, often it seems, he’s watching me. It makes me nervous, but not in a performance anxiety kind of way. I’m confident in my ability to make a good drink, even with a drill sergeant squawking in my ear. What I’m not confident in is my ability to resist what Cash isn’t even trying to hide.

He’s interested in me. And not just as an employee. Maybe very little as an employee, in fact. Every time my eyes meet his, I feel like he’s undressing me. And, God help me, I love it. Those sexy, velvety eyes are like a touch. I can almost feel them, like hands on my body and lips on my mouth.

Admittedly, I have a thing for bad boys, but Cash is…I don’t know. He’s different. I daresay he’s even more dangerous than my usual disastrous finds.

I look up and my eyes collide with his again. He winks at me and my stomach flips over.

“That’s not how we make margaritas here,” Taryn snaps in my ear. “Who uses orange juice?”

I exhale so loudly it sounds like a growl. I could explain how a splash of orange juice adds a little something extra to the flavor of the tequila, but I don’t. I’ve had enough of Taryn’s bitchiness. “Fine,” I say, setting down the tequila bottle a little more forcefully than I intended. “Then show me how you make margaritas here.” I stand back and cross my arms over my chest.

The look Taryn throws me is both angry and satisfied. Obviously, she wanted me to crack. Well, she’s about to get more than she bargained for.

“Well, get on it. Show me. People are waiting,” I say in my calmest voice, tipping my head to indicate the cluster of people surrounding us on the other side of the bar.

Her pale blue eyes flash with anger and her ruby red lips tighten. She’s ready for a fight. And so am I.

“You’d better leave that attitude at the door, honey, or tonight’s likely to be your last.”

I hear the hushed voices go up all around us—ooohs and aaahs and whispers of a cat fight. I ignore them and focus on Taryn.

“Is that right? You think you’ve got the pull to get rid of me just because you’re a compulsive control freak with an obsessive need for attention?”

Taryn’s laugh is bitter, but she doesn’t bother to deny it. I think she knows I’m right.

It hadn’t taken me long to peg her for what she is—an insecure girl with daddy issues. After my body-shot audition, she had gone above and beyond to draw every eye away from me and down the bar to her. She’d changed the music to an upbeat song by Jessie James and proceeded to dance along the bar, lip-synching Wanted to every male within viewing distance.

And, of course, they loved it. I mean, she’s gorgeous, even with long blond dreads, and she’s sexy in a very feline kind of way. What guy with a functioning penis wouldn’t love a girl like that up on display, teasing him mercilessly?

But I knew it was more for my benefit than anything else. As she was climbing down off the bar, she gave me a smug little smile. She was showing me up, showing me that she could show me up. What she doesn’t understand is that I don’t want all the attention. She’s welcome to it.

Thinking of it this way cools my temper considerably. I decide to give her what she wants—the love of all the men.

“What do you say to a little contest? Loser has to do a bar dance.”

I’m a little surprised at her hesitation, but then when I see her eyes flicker to my right, I understand what her problem is. Cash is mingling with a group of gushing girls not far from where we are.

Then I get it. I really get it.

Holy shit! She’s got a thing for Cash!

My first thought is that I don’t blame her. I think everything with estrogen likes Cash. My second thought is wonderment that they haven’t already slept together. That’s not very bad-boy like of him.

Unless they have and she’s just not over it. That would be much more bad-boy like.

For some reason, jealousy gnaws at my insides.

“You’re on,” she says with a nod.

“Best margarita wins. Both are on me,” I say then turn to the handful of guys watching and listening to us. “Who wants to judge?”

Of course, they all start clamoring to be chosen. But it’s not an issue when Cash steps in.

“I’ll be the judge,” he offers, his eyes daring me in the low light of the bar. “I think it’s only fair.”

“Of course,” I say, feeling a bit breathless when he’s so close and I’m in his sights. I look to Taryn. Her look has gone from hostile to downright murderous. It occurs to me that what began as a solid plan could very well back fire. “That okay with you?”

“Fine by me,” she says, turning a brilliant smile on Cash. “I know what he likes.”

The guys around the bar start hollering and whistling at that, nudging and teasing Cash. Cash just smiles at Taryn. And it bugs me. I can’t tell whether there’s something between them or not. Or if it’s just a tolerant employer-type smile.

I hope if there ever was anything between them that it’s over.

It chaps my butt to think of him flirting like he does with me, watching me, teasing me, all the while sleeping with Taryn. It shouldn’t matter. He’s a playboy and that’s what playboys do.

But it does.

Dammit!

“Come on, boys. Let’s give ‘em a little help,” Cash says. The people around him start cheering enthusiastically. Cash smiles at them and then turns to face me, leaning forward a little on the bar. His eyes meet mine and one brow rises in that holy mother of hell-sexy way, then he mutters, “You’ve got one chance to make my mouth water.”

I suck in a breath. And chills break out down my arms.

Damn, he’s good!

I’m so glad for the room full of people. Otherwise, I might embarrass myself by stripping off all my clothes and climbing across the bar to wind all my body parts around him.

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