The beginning . . .

 

Today’s Special: Instant attraction with a double dash of chemistry.

 

She stood facing the bar, bent slightly at the waist. Her tightly compacted hindquarters were displayed in all their curvaceousness, rounded and taut with the heart-shaped aperture that described the intersection of her sinewy thighs and pelvis.

He picked a table opposite her, several rows away from the bar. Leaning back, he stretched out then settled in with his arms slung passively across his chest, pretending not to look but soaking in the view with the furtive glances of a practiced voyeur. His eyes narrowed and swept in her lithe form that was clad in the delicate spare silk of an acid green party dress, hung precariously on a pair of chiseled shoulders by the frailest of angel hair spaghetti straps.

Slowly turning around, she stood and faced him, alerted by the tingling on the nape of her neck. She had spotted him the second he walked in; not so tall, lean with thickly muscled legs sheathed in tight jeans, the full features of someone possibly Mediterranean, with a head capped in the closely cropped tonsure of brown and grey hair. Tossing her satiny chestnut brown mane, she caught him again undressing her with the leering countenance of a wolf quietly sizing up its prey.

She lowered her chin to meet the gaze of his blazing hazel eyes that, from across the room, silently calculated her height, weight, power and speed but more importantly, her ability to read and react to a developing situation. A cold shiver ran up her spine and plucked the raised cilia-like downy hair on her thighs.

Intrigued by the chance of witnessing an uninhibited, private exhibition of her sexual prowess, for his own personal satisfaction amid the din and employment of patrons, he waited patiently. Waited for a subtle gesture, a nod, a knowing glance, some glint of recognition that would signal her intentions that she was a player in the game.

Situated together in a gambit of sexual brinkmanship, it was her move, and she moved without hesitation. With the stealth of a sniper, she leaned back into the wooden bar, with elbows akimbo, and took aim at him by seductively spreading her legs open in a provocative gesture. One that was engineered to entice his senses just enough to make him aware that he was being targeted.

Jack felt his forehead tighten and his ears flatten against his head. A lascivious smile tiptoed across his mouth in anticipation of a lively encounter with a worthy opponent that was about to commence. He felt his groin tighten as he watched her rose-colored tongue brush her lips with a sensuous lick as she pushed herself away from the bar and slinked towards him. A playful grin pulled taut her pouty mouth.

Reaching his table, she gestured to the seat opposite him. A smooth husky voice tore into a rich seam of burgeoning lust that wrapped itself snugly around the nerve ends in his loins, sending ripples of heat spiking through his body.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked, looking down at him, somewhat unsure now as to which way to go and wondering what door she might have just kicked open.

Jack felt his pulse quicken. A sharp breath hissed through his teeth as he barely managed to respond with a raw, “No . . . uhm, please,” and nodded at her to sit down. He watched her sink into the seat, her body folding gently at her waist.

Bewitched by her slender hands, his manhood slowly began to awake and expand. He stretched out his left leg in an attempt to make an unseen adjustment hidden beneath the tabletop, but failed miserably by inadvertently sliding his leg between her knees just brushing the inside of her thighs.

She felt the clumsy intrusion but deftly accommodated his leg by opening hers.

“That was fast,” she said, leaning in on her elbows while lowering her chin onto a pair of entwined hands. “What should I expect next? The right leg?” Her voice dropped a half an octave and became husky, seductiveness quivering in every syllable.

Embarrassed that his cool demeanor suddenly fled, leaving him to play the fool, he decided to go with it. In a self-deprecating mime, he raised his shoulders, threw his hands up and mugged her with his best Gary Grant.

She glanced at him in a look of restrained amusement then broke down laughing, trying immediately to check her gleefulness by clasping her mouth shut with her hand. Her laughter was infectious and caught him off-guard. Feeling emboldened by his ability to make her laugh, he took up the challenge and slid his right leg in between hers while reprising his comic impersonation. His timing was impeccable. He raised his eyebrows and grinned as she gurgled with joyous laughter.

So far so good. She is so hot.

She patted dry her long eyelashes with the middle finger of both hands and looked across the table at his grinning face. “I haven’t laughed that hard in years,” she chuckled.

Jack was fascinated by her. The thought of those long fingers lingered in the forefront of his mind. As if reading his thoughts, she reached across the table in a unilateral display of daring and took his left hand in hers. He flinched. Her fingers caressed the heavy silver ring that he wore on his index finger.

“A silver-skull biker ring,” she mused staring at the beautifully hand-crafted grotesque ring. “Do you ride?” she asked, dropping her eyes to watch how his full lips formed around his reply. She licked the underside of her top lip as she brushed a hand under his chin. His groin tightened.

Ohooo. You are a temptress, aren’t you?

“Yes, I do ride,” Jack said, clearing his throat as the word croaked to the surface. He had never been this unnerved by a woman, at least not at first sight. She, oh, so subtly stroked his index finger between hers and then shot a blazing eye-fuck at him, now boldly encroaching into his personal space without any backup.

He struggled to drag the thinnest breath into his lungs. She fingered the thick silver ring with a feathery touch, knowing full well the relationship of cause and effect that it would have in the transfer of heat directly into the lengthening protrusion crowding his pants. With each caress and each stroke of her fingers that mimicked the sheathing of his hardening cock, his pulsating blood continued to dam up and thicken his shaft.

Her eyes smoldered knowingly as she watched tiny opalescent beads of perspiration appear and situate themselves in a random pattern clinging to the skin above his upper lip. The tip of her tongue appeared again in a menacing reptilian display, flaring like a cobra’s hood, snaking out to wet a corner of her mouth.

She switched the subject and turned down the heat. “Is that your beautiful white Harley out in front?” she asked in a husky voice that sounded as if it were cured in bourbon and cigarette smoke. Her eyes focused directly on his.

“Uh . . . yeah. That’s mine.” Fuck, Jack! Get it together. He berated himself as he struggled to separate his mind from the throbbing in his jeans.

Cranking up the flames again, she returned her fingers back to fondle the ring. Watching her slim hand holding onto his large weathered fingers made his mind wander once more and he cursed himself, sotto voce.

“Mind if I ask you something?” he said inquisitively, trying to regain his rattled composure.

“Have at me,” she purred, sending such an unexpected jolt of electricity into his loins that any unoccupied space that once existed in his crotch disappeared for good.

“Oh, really? Well then, I just might do that,” he parried back in a lunge that caught her off balance in a blush of red that betrayed her confidence.

Touché, darling. Now it’s my turn.

He slashed at her again to maintain the momentum. “Would you like to come?” Pausing with a straight face for maximum effect, “On my bike?” Another pause, “For a ride some time?” The purposeful hesitation was not lost on her. She reeled back into her seat surprised by such an audacious move.

Jack turned his hand and caught hers. Watching her, he traced the creases on the inside of her palm. Her breath caught in the back of her throat and her eyes widened. His provocative question was answered by a shimmering glint in her eyes. She squirmed in her seat, her hand becoming moist inside his. He felt an easy presence return that relaxed a look of uncertainty on his face.

I’ve got you now. You’re beginning to glow. Let’s see if you run.

She made a tactical retreat to save face. “I make jewelry, too. Heavy pieces similar to your ring. I’ve got some beautiful samples in my car. Want to come for a quick look?” she asked sounding naive in the hope for an answer that would either end the game right there and release the tension or prolong it with a walk through the parking lot into the deep end of the pool where she could be in way over her head.

Jack’s eyes narrowed to measure the gauntlet that she had just thrown down on the table. Thoughts about what things he was about to do to her ran through his mind as he leaned back in his chair. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he visualized the debauchery he would bring to bear on her whole body. The wolf was sniffing eagerly at the door.

“I usually don’t follow women to secluded dark corners, especially one I hardly know. I’m Jack, by the way.”

His eyes challenged her to defy him, but her smile was disarmingly beautiful. A silent promise in itself to be quickly sealed as he nearly leapt from his chair to flush her out from the safety of the lit cafe into the enveloping cover of approaching darkness.

He held the door open as she walked under his arm, the top of her head barely reaching his chin. A whiff of citrus perfume teased his nose as he breathed her in.

“Liz. It’s Liz. You forgot to ask me,” she said in mock admonishment.

Her name, right! He thought frowning. His muddled mind snapped back into sharp focus.

“Do I hear an Afrikaans patois?” he asked as he attempted to mask his sudden fear, realizing that he just played a low percentage shot with a stupid question. Knowing that if she was a New Zealander, the mistake might be perceived at best as inelegant and at worst, a flippant jab that she would find too obnoxious, bereft of any sense of grace and finally intolerable enough for her to send him packing with his tail between his legs. He winced in doubt and wished he’d kept his mouth shut.

“Good guess,” she said flashing a smile at him. “Have you ever been to South Africa?”

“No, but I might have good reason to visit there soon.” For fuck’s sake, you fool. Shut up!

Liz chuckled in her now familiar smoky clipped lilt that brushed across his loins. Jack closed his eyes, slowing his breathing to calm his nerves and arrest the swelling in his pants that continued to throb unabated in anticipation of the almost certain outcome due to unfold within seconds of reaching the car.

 

Double Shot Espresso in E-book only:

AmazonCom:  

AmazonUk:

 

The Crow’s Nest in E-Book only:

AmazonCom:

AmazonUK:

 

Or the Boxset is available as The White Pearl here:

E-book on AmazonCom:

E-book on AmazonUK:

 

The White Pearl Boxset available in Paperback here:

Paperback on AmazonCom:

Paperback on AmazonUK: