Three

 

ANGELA

 

“Okay, let’s go and get a booth. Jack, can you get us a refill while we get a table?” Ellison suggest, as we walk back up to the bar.

For the past hour, I’ve been downing my drinks between dances. At this point in the night, I’m not feeling much of anything. I think I need to start drinking just Coke.

“Just a diet Dr. Pepper please, Jack,” I tell him. At his nod to my request, I turn and take in the tables and booths. Seeing that they’re all filled, I arch my brow at Ellison. It doesn’t shock me that the bar is filled. It’s Friday night, a night everyone comes to Jumpin’ Jacks.

“Well, I guess we're stuck at the bar tonight.”

“Nope, I think we should go sit with Curt.” She starts heading in the direction of the booth in the back. The only thing I can make out is a man sitting there by himself. The lighting back there isn’t the best.

“Who's Curt?”

“New guy in town. He’s friends with Wyatt and Shaw.” She walks up to the occupant in the back of the bar. “Hey, Curt. Do you mind if we sit with you?”

“Nope, don’t mind at all.” The warm deep voice that vibrates from the guy in the booth, has my body reacting and me stopping in my tracks.

Holy fuck. This guy’s voice should be the voice of every radio station DJ, or the voiceover on commercials. Fuck, why stop there? With his raw, sexy baritone, he could star as every woman's fantasy in audio books all over the market.

My mind starts imagining some guy in bed with me, reading me my favorite sex scenes while I snuggle into his side.

“Curt, I would like you to meet Angela. She’s one of the nurses that works with Jack and me. Angela, this is Curt.” Ellison’s introduction has me coming out of my lustful thoughts.

My breath is taken from me when he stands, and takes a step toward me into the lighted area. Instantly, the noise surrounding me starts fading out. He has beautiful, light brown eyes, sunlight brown hair, high cheekbones, a short, neatly trimmed beard, and full lips that I want to feel on mine. He’s about six-four and has muscles that strain his button-down shirt. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe him. He’s one of those guys that happens to be beyond handsome, and yet he has that rugged look to him that screams manly. He'd make any woman melt with his looks alone. Adding his voice to the mix, let’s just say those two combined will have any woman turning into a pile of goo for the rest of her life.

The nudge from my left brings me out of my sexual pursuit of the man in front of me. Turning to Ellison, I see that Jack is now with us. “Umm… sorry I guess those shots and drinks got to me.”  I spin back toward Curt. “Hi, nice to meet you,” I murmur, and stick out my hand.

The moment his hand touches mine, I feel a zap that goes deep into my soul. A small gasp leaves my mouth, and I glance down at our hands. His makes mine look so tiny in comparison. My gaze travels up his arm, over the tattoos that start at his wrist and disappear under the rolled-up cuff of his shirt. My thighs clench as my panties become wet. The gentle squeeze he gives my hand has my eyes snapping back up to his.

“Nice to meet you, Angela.” He waves to the side of the booth he was sitting at. “Please, join me?”

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as I nod. After we all squeeze into the booth, I give Ellison a small smile. Maybe my night is looking up.

 

 

The giggle I'M trying to hold in bursts out at hearing Curt’s story about his childhood friend and his wife. We've been sharing stories since Jack and Ellison left an hour ago. At first, I jumped to leave with them, but Ellison told me I would be a fool if I did. She had Brad vouch for him, and Shaw also gave his approval when he came to get LeeLee the burgers and fries she was craving.

“He’s a great guy, Angela. I trust him with Waverlee and Addison’s life. You’ll be safe with him.” He gave me a hug and promised he would have LeeLee call me tomorrow after I got to my mom's.

That really was all I needed to hear, but the okay from Brad, Ellison and Jack also helped. That’s how I find myself currently alone in the booth with Curt, sharing stories.

“Please tell me his wife drop kicked his ass when he said that.” Tears are streaming down my face, and I can’t catch my breath.

“Nah, she just laughed and told him that he had to go to sleep at some point. I told her if she needed an alibi I would—” He’s interrupted as Wendy walks up to our booth.

She gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. She looks at every woman the same way as she just did me. She thinks they’re her competition, and hasn’t quiet grasped that not all women are after men like she is. I’ve never understood her need to chase men, since she’s such a beautiful woman.

“Hey, guys, it’s last call. Do you want one more drink?” She eyes Curt and begins batting her lashes at him. She almost looks crazy . . . I wonder if I look as stupid as she does when I do that.

Note to self, no more batting my eyelashes.

“I’m good. How about you, love?” Curt wraps his hand around the back of the booth. I glance into his eyes and see the hidden plea he’s giving me. My hand slowly makes it to his thigh and I gently squeeze, letting him know I’ll help him out.

“I’m good, sexy.” My voice takes on a seductive purr that I really had no clue I had in me. It must be the liquid courage that’s still running in my veins from earlier. Turning toward Wendy, I give her my kindest smile I can muster. “Thanks for checking, but I think it’s time for us to go home.”

With a huff, Wendy turns and heads to another table.

“I guess I need to get an Uber ordered. I’m supposed to go to my mom's tomorrow.” I reach inside my purse to grab my phone. I know if I don’t order one now, it might be a good thirty minutes before one is here. Friday night is always a pain in the ass when it comes to taxis, Ubers, and Lyft rides. A hand on my arm has my eyes snapping up, and meeting the same stare that has kept me captive for most of the night. I’m confused by the look in his eyes. It's lust, mixed with something else that I can’t quite put my finger on. Normally, I’m good at reading people, but once I’ve had a few drinks, that talent goes poof.

“Let me take you home.” The warmth in his voice has goosebumps forming all over my body.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Curt,” I all but whisper out at him. My mind is screaming to get home now, but my body is insisting that I need to let him do whatever he wants to me. My heart, however, is singing with joy at finally finding the one person it belongs to. That thought has me catching my breath in my throat and looking at his lips.

“I've only had two drinks tonight. There's no way I would put you, or others, in danger.” I glance back into his eyes as Shaw’s words of trusting him with his family’s life rush back to me. Everything in me says I can trust this man. I hear it in his words, and see it in his eyes. The memory of his hand in mine, and the zap I felt with his touch, has me looking back at his lips while tugging my bottom one between my teeth. The need to feel his lips on mine is starting to pull even stronger but before I can comprehend what's going on, he’s nipping at my bottom lip which causes me to gasp at the emotions that rush through me.

His tongue takes advantage of my lips parting and dives into my mouth to tangle with mine. He lets out a groan and starts pulling me to get closer to him. The sound of hoots and hollers has him letting out a growl of frustration before slowly ending the kiss.

“Fireball, I really need to get you out of here before I lay you down and devour you in front of every fucker in here so they know you're mine.” He gives me another hard kiss before sliding out of the booth. “Come on, Angela. I’m not going to be able to wait until we get to your place or mine.”

“Fireball?” Is the only word I can get out as he pulls me to my feet.

“Yes, fireball. Because you taste of cinnamon, fire and sin.” I start to follow him, and then I think about the second thing he said, something about not waiting.

“What do you mean you can’t wait—” Is all I can manage to say before he has me out the door and heading toward the sidewalk that leads away from the parking lot. “Can you slow down a bit, please?”

“Fireball, I can’t wait. We're going to the hotel across the street,” he explains as he slows his steps.

It takes a moment to take in what he’s saying to me; my body gets even hotter with the thought of being alone with him in a room. Images of him laying over me while he takes my virginity . . . I stumble into the back of him at the thought of having to tell him about me being a twenty-three-year-old virgin.

“I have to tell you something,” I murmur as he steps into the hotel lobby.

Turning to me, he pulls me into him and cups my face with one hand as the other goes to my lower back.

“Tell me you don’t feel the tingles running down your spine at the touch of our skin. Tell me you don’t hold your breath just to hear my voice like mine does with yours. Tell me you don’t feel like you're going to die if you don’t feel me on top of you. If you can say you don’t, I’ll let you go and call you a taxi. But I know if you say that you don’t, it'll be a lie because your body and eyes give your answer away,” he murmurs quietly while staring at me so deeply, that I swear he’s talking to my soul.

He’s right, I can’t deny the way he makes me feel, so without a second thought, I stand on my tip toes, peck his lips, and nod. I know I’ll have to tell him, but for this moment I’ll just pray there will be a chance before he finds out on his own.