Chapter Five
Oscar’s heart was pounding as he led her up the stairs. He couldn’t believe his luck. The girl from the elevator was here in his club—and she was even hotter than he remembered. He took a deep breath as they reached the top. He was fully aware that there might be more than luck at play here. People in this city knew who he was. His face had been in enough magazines and celebrity TV segments. She might well have recognized him and come here to find him. He smiled as he turned to her. All the better for him, if she had. The kind of girls who did that—and she wouldn’t be the first—all came looking for one thing, and in her case, he’d gladly give it to her.
She seemed to waver on her feet, and he put his hand on the small of her back to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.” She sounded almost angry. He raised an eyebrow and was rewarded with a beautiful, genuine smile. “If you must know, I’m having trouble staying upright in these shoes.”
He glanced down at her feet. They were sexy-as-sin heels—the kind he liked to think of as fuck-me-pumps. He’d be happy to oblige. But the messages she was sending were all wrong. The kind of girl who came to him looking to get laid would never admit they couldn’t stand up in high heels.
“Upright is overrated, if you ask me. I prefer horizontal.” He had to test her out. Was she going to giggle and swoon, and give him the answer that his cock desperately wanted?
Hell, no.
She scowled at him. “I’ll let you get back to that, then. You were the one who asked if I wanted to have a drink with you.”
He grinned. Spirited, huh? He liked that. “And I’d like you to. Please?” He jerked his head toward one of the private rooms and gestured with his hand for her to go ahead of him.
She hesitated for a moment; he could see the struggle in her eyes. He was relieved and a little surprised when she went ahead of him. He’d half expected her to turn around and leave. He raised a hand to one of the waiters and mouthed bourbon to him before following her into the room and closing the door behind him.
She spun around at the sound of the door closing and wobbled as she did. He stepped toward her and caught her arm, crowding her a little more than he needed to. He wanted to tell himself that he was just testing for her reaction again, but it was more than that. His body acted of its own volition, wanting to get as close to her as he could. His cock was straining in his pants, but that was less surprising than the way his arms closed around her, wanting to hold her to him.
She stepped back a little too fast, but luckily for her, the sofa was right behind her, and she plopped down on it with a surprised little uff sound.
He stood over her, some primal part of him sorely aware that her lips were at the perfect height for her to … He turned around at the sound of a buzzer.
She jumped back to her feet and stared around wildly. “What was that?”
“The doorbell.” He went to open it and let in the waiter who set a tray down on the table beside the sofa. A bottle of bourbon, two glasses, and an ice bucket. “Thanks,” Oscar nodded at him, and he left.
The girl looked up at him. “How did you know I drink bourbon?”
“I didn’t. Lucky guess, I suppose.”
She eyed him warily. “Did you know I was coming?”
That intrigued him. “Why would I? And you know that leads to the question of why you’re here.”
She nodded reluctantly. “Do you want to pour me one of those before we get down to that?”
Oscar poured himself a glass and then looked up at her.
“Neat.”
He hid his smile as he fixed her drink. His first impression had been right; she wasn’t his usual type. There was no airy, flirty chatting with this one. She was blunt and to the point. What he wanted to know was what her point was. Why was she here? And why did she suspect that he already knew about it?
He took a seat on the sofa and patted the space beside him.
She pursed her lips, considering it. He could see the moment she reached her decision, and she sat down and took the glass from him. She knocked it back and set the glass down on the table.
He watched her for a few moments. When he waited long enough, people talked just to fill the silence. She didn’t.
“So. Did you come here to find me?”
She nodded.
He couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from quirking upward.
“Don’t look like that. I didn’t know you were you.”
He gave her a puzzled look. He had no idea what the fuck that meant.
She shrugged but didn’t elaborate.
“Well, I’m glad you came.”
“You are? Why?”
“I felt like we had a missed connection the other day. I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes.” Maybe he could get her to open up more if he did the talking to start with, got her to relax. He rested his hand on her knee. His intent had been to get to her to soften toward him, but it only made him harder. He wanted to slide his hand up her thigh, under her dress, and between her legs. Dammit. He smiled and focused his attention on her face. “Seriously.”
She shook her head. “You’re just full of shit, aren’t you?”
He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “Yeah. I guess I am, in general, but I’m not shitting you about that. I’ve kept thinking about you, hoping I could find you again. I even went down to the seventeenth floor to look for you on my way out.”
“Why? You’ve got a club which is full of beautiful, and no doubt willing, women every night of the week. What’s so special about me?”
“You’re beautiful, you’re different, there’s a strength about you, an I-don’t-give-a-shit air to you that I find irresistible.”
She shook her head and poured herself another bourbon—proving him right, the women he brought in here usually waited for him to refill their glass.
“You found me irresistible, too, didn’t you? That’s why you’re here.”
She let out a short bitter laugh and shook her head. “If I’d known you were you I probably wouldn’t have come.”
What the hell was she talking about? She wasn’t making any sense. “So, why did you come?”
She met his gaze. “I’m not sure I want to tell you.”
He wasn’t sure if she was a crazy, or if she was playing him somehow, but he couldn’t resist going along with her. “How about I persuade you to tell me?”
“What do you mean?”
He took her glass from her hand and set it down on the table then leaned closer. Her full red lips had been tempting him since he’d first seen her at the end of the hallway. “I can be very persuasive,” he breathed as his hand slid farther up her thigh and leaned in closer still. He lowered his lips to hers and then stopped less than an inch away. “If you want me to.”
She nodded and closed the final distance between them.
~ ~ ~
Alarm bells were ringing in Grace’s head, but they couldn’t pierce the fog that had descended on her brain. He’d leaned in ninety-five percent of the way. Some magnetic force drew her the last five. He brushed his lips over hers, and his hand moved up her thigh. Some tiny part of her mind tried to direct her hand to push him away; instead, it diverted course and reached up to cup his head, pulling him down closer for more. He obliged, tangling his fingers in her hair and tipping her head back. She moaned as he dropped his lips to her neck and nibbled the soft spot behind her ear. All the muscles in her stomach and lower tightened, making her seek out his lips with hers. With his fingers caressing her thigh and him nibbling her neck, she was terrified he could make her come right there and then. She had to divert him back to a kiss. It worked. He cupped her face between his hands and crushed her lips with his. He slid his tongue inside, and she was a goner. She could feel herself moan as he claimed her mouth. The alarm bells managed to pierce through with a dead certain realization that he could claim her whole self just as easily if she let him.
She broke away abruptly. This wasn’t what she’d come here for. She edged away from him, aware that she was breathing hard, and there was no hiding just how aroused she was. She slowly lifted her gaze. Would he be angry? Guys who were used to getting what they wanted didn’t like it when a woman called the shots—she knew that. Would he be mad? Or would he dismiss her since she wasn’t proving to be the easy lay he’d obviously thought she was?
The last thing she’d expected was to see a look of amusement on his face. Was he laughing at her?
“You don’t like it?”
She pursed her lips. She wasn’t a liar.
His smile grew wider. “Good.” He handed her the drink, and she downed it. She needed it after that.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“Well, I didn’t come here planning to spread my legs for you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He chuckled. “The thought had occurred; you wouldn’t be the first.”
Arrogant prick. She scowled at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m an asshole when it comes to women.” He poured them both another and ran his hand through his hair—a gesture that for some reason had her squirming in her wet panties. In that moment all his arrogance was gone, and he was even more attractive.
“Why?” She couldn’t resist asking.
He met her gaze and shook his head. “No one ever asks why. Usually, they either agree or tell me that I’m not, that I’m just misunderstood.”
She let out a short, harsh laugh. “They play you, just the same way you play them, then. I’m not interested in playing the game. I’ll just say it like I see it. You’re an arrogant prick, and yep, you can be a real asshole when it comes to women.”
His expression changed. “You’re not here to get vengeance for a girlfriend I’ve fucked and forgotten, are you?”
She pursed her lips. “No. I’m speaking purely from personal experience and projecting a general assumption from there.”
“Fair enough. I’d say it’s a logical assumption.” He winked at her again. He really needed to stop doing that. She wanted to hate him for it, but there was something so damned sexy about it.
“Do you get lots of vengeance visits?” she asked, just to move past the wink.
He shrugged. “There have been a few. I don’t understand why women can be so vindictive. I’m always up front; I like sex, and it’s all I have to offer. I’m not going to call you afterward, and if you come back in here, you will see me with someone else.”
She stared at him. There was no way on earth she’d tell him, but she thought that was admirable, at least the fact that he’d admit it. Most guys pretended to be interested in more just so they could get a girl into bed. Honesty was a much better policy, as far as she was concerned.
“So, are you interested?”
“What?” Her head jerked up, and she met his gaze. She’d thought he was explaining why some girls got mad at him, not laying out his terms for her.
He chuckled. “I had to ask.”
“And I have to say no.”
He heaved a big sigh and looked up at her with big puppy dog eyes. “Aww, are you sure?”
She tried to hide a smile, but she couldn’t, not completely. He was gorgeous, and he played it so well. If the future of the center wasn’t on the line, there was no way she’d have been able to resist him. She shook her head. “I’m sure.”
“In that case, are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
She stared at him for a long moment, then finally shook her head. This was all wrong. She’d come here with two options that she could see. If he seemed like a nice guy, she’d planned to appeal to his better nature, and see if he’d be interested in making some kind of donation to help rehouse the center. If he seemed like an asshole, she’d thought it’d be easy to make some veiled threats about going to the media with the story of how he was ousting kids and vets and single moms. She’d figured that would be enough to make him throw some hush money their way or maybe even get him involved—looking for good press instead of bad. Now she didn’t know what to do. He did kind of seem like a good guy, but at the same time, he was, by his own admission, an asshole. And besides, none of her contingencies had accounted for him being Big Cat, the arrogant prick from the elevator, and they certainly hadn’t factored in the possibility of her kissing him, or him asking if she wanted to have sex—or her desperately wanting to. “No, you know what? I’m just going to leave. I will need to talk to you at some point, but this is neither the time nor the place.” She got to her feet.
He scrambled to join her. “You haven’t even told me your name.”
“Grace.”
He chuckled. “Amazing Grace.”
She sighed. “I thought you might be more original.”
He shrugged; his cocky smile was back. “You’ve thrown me off. I admit it. You win this round.”
She smiled. It was good that he thought so. She was feeling like a failure, but she needed to figure out a plan of attack before she put anything to him; if she tried talking to him now, she’d get nowhere—except maybe underneath him.
“Can I call you?”
She shook her head. She wasn’t playing hard to get. She was just making sure she stayed in control. Growing up the way she had, she’d felt powerless about so many aspects of her own life. These days, she did whatever she could to stay in control—empowered, as Louise had put it.
He gave her a puzzled smile. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely.”
He grinned. “If I give you my number will you call me?”
She took his card with a smile. “When I’m ready.”