The crowd at the ZanziBar was decent enough for a Wednesday night. Jacinta and her two friends, Marcy and Heather, sat in a booth with cocktails in front of them. Usually on a weeknight they stuck to wine, but tonight Heather was celebrating a promotion and had ordered a round of Clover Clubs.
Jacinta dipped her finger in the foamy egg white head, listening with half an ear as Heather enthused about her new position. She was genuinely pleased for her friend, but lethargy had settled on her, and everything felt like a huge effort. She didn’t want to admit it, but the heaviness had descended ever since Lex had abruptly terminated their phone conversation, and it had slowly dawned on her that she wasn’t ever going to see him again.
Heather poked her in the side. “Why the heavy sighs?”
Jacinta straightened up and tried to look lively. “What heavy sighs?”
“The heavy sighs like the one you just heaved. What’s up? Something wrong at work?”
“No.”
Marcy leaned forward. “It’s your brother?”
“No.”
“Must be a man, then,” Heather pronounced, taking a sip of her cocktail.
“It isn’t a man,” Jacinta protested before lifting her shoulders. “Well...it is a man, but not in the way you two think. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.”
Marcy pushed Jacinta’s cocktail closer to her. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”
Jacinta thought about protesting, but then she picked up the cocktail glass. What the hell. She was out with her friends, why shouldn’t she enjoy herself instead of dwelling on Lex? She downed a large gulp and felt the alcohol warm her stomach, easing some of her despondency. She took another sip and another. When her glass was empty, Heather grabbed her by the hand.
“That’s a good start. Now let’s go and dance.”
Jacinta groaned, hanging back while Heather and Marcy jumped to their feet. “Dancing? I don’t feel like dancing.”
But her friends ignored her protests and dragged her onto the small dance floor where the DJ was playing Fatboy Slim. Giving in to her friends’ insistence, Jacinta started to dance with them. The dance floor wasn’t too crowded, and the hypnotic rhythm of the music gradually worked its way into her, subduing some of her gloomy thoughts. She began to let her hair down, finding relief in the physical movements. Blue and red lights pulsed overhead, bodies swayed around her, the blare of music and chatter filled her ears. Maybe if she danced all night she’d be too exhausted to think about Lex. Maybe she’d be so tired she wouldn’t dream about him, like she had last night.
A blonde, muscly guy with biceps like rocks and a tattoo writhing down his neck shimmied into her personal space, winking suggestively at her. He looked like a cover model for a men’s fragrance, but he didn’t disturb her heart beat by a fraction. She lifted an eyebrow at him and turned away. Undeterred, he shuffled around her, wriggling his hips in what he must have thought was a come hither manner. Grimacing, she moved back, searching for her friends.
Heather hooked her hand around Jacinta’s elbow and drew her close. “That man is giving you the look,” she muttered into Jacinta’s ear.
“I know,” Jacinta huffed in annoyance. “If he comes near me again, I’m going to stomp on his toes.”
“No, not the tattoo loser. I mean that guy over there at the bar. He’s been staring at you for the past ten minutes, and I have to admit I’m a little bit jealous. He’s one helluva sexy hunk.”
Jacinta narrowed her eyes, squinting through the gloom. With the lights strobing overhead, it was hard to make out the people sitting at the bar...but hang on— Her heart skipped a beat, and then another.
That man standing at the bar... Shadows cloaked him, but that tall, powerful physique was unmistakable. She recognized him in an instant. Lex Rochester.
***
Lex forced himself to count to ten, very slowly. That was the only way he could stop himself from running onto the dance floor and crash-tackling that ass hat who was trying his moves on Jacinta. He flexed his fingers, stiff from clenching, and reminded himself to breathe. But every second he stared at Jacinta made breathing difficult.
Did she have to dance like that in front of him? His eyes ate her up compulsively as she swayed in time to the music. The song was a dull thump in the background, the other people in the bar were a blur. All he could focus on was Jacinta. She wore black ankle boots and a sky blue dress that clung to her breasts and hips, and her thick, lustrous hair tumbled down her back, slightly messy from her dancing.
As she scowled at the guy trying to pick her up, one of her friends took her arm and whispered something to her, nodding toward Lex. He stilled as Jacinta peered in his direction. With the spotlights on the dance floor, she wouldn’t be able to see him very clearly, but the shock that came over her was clearly visible. Her gaze locked onto him, and he felt something tug at his heart, as if just by looking at him, she was pulling him toward her.
He moved through the crowd, and she stepped off the dance floor. They met in the middle of the bar. She looked stunned and slightly apprehensive. A small shiver chased down his spine as he realized he was jumpy, too.
“Lex,” she murmured, looking him up and down. “How—how on earth did you find me?”
He breathed in, and despite the thick atmosphere he could discern her own unique scent. “Would you believe me if I said I just wandered in by chance?”
She brushed nervous fingers through her untidy hair. “No, I don’t believe in coincidence.”
Her skin glowed from her dancing, a sheen of perspiration highlighting the vee of her cleavage, riveting his gaze. That soft, clingy dress did amazing things to her breasts. He imagined himself peeling the dress from her shoulders, licking the saltiness between her breasts. His cock hardened, and he had to dig his fingernails into his palms.
“Would you believe me if I said I checked every bar in the Mission?” he said, keeping his tone light.
Her eyebrows shot up, her mouth formed an O of complete surprise. “Wh-what?” she stuttered. “You did that? Just to find me?”
“Yeah.”
He let his gaze meander over her, elation seeping into him that he’d finally found her. He never thought he’d pursue a woman this hard, but something about Jacinta wouldn’t let go of him.
“I took a guess and figured you’d be in the Mission,” he said. “I visited about ten bars before I hit the jackpot.”
He didn’t mind telling her, he realized, even if he came off sounding desperate.
Jacinta pleated her hands together, still anxious. “But...earlier today, when we spoke on the phone. You said...”
“That I wouldn’t pester you anymore. I know.” He lifted his shoulders. “But I’m a curious guy. Stubborn, too. You gave me some cryptic mumbo jumbo I couldn’t understand, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to find out the truth.”
Genuine alarm spread across her features as she took a step back from him. “Oh, so now you’re stalking me, huh?”
He rocked back on his heels. “Stalking you? No, of course not.”
But he was, he realized, his heart sinking. Shit, what was he doing here? What was Jacinta turning him into? He pushed his fingers through his hair, dismay and confusion clashing in him.
“Ah, crap,” he muttered. “You’re right. I’m totally out of line.”
He turned away, intending to leave, but a light touch on his arm stopped him.
“You don’t have to go right away.” A brief smile flitted over Jacinta’s face. “I mean, you went to all this trouble just to track me down. I’m a little flattered, it has to be said.”
“Just a little flattered?” He grinned at her, his spirits rising. “I’ve worn out a good pair of shoes pounding the pavement just to find you.”
She smiled wider, genuine amusement dancing in her eyes. “No-one’s done that for me before.” She glanced about them, her hesitation plain. “Um, why don’t I buy you a drink for your troubles?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Do you want to sit at the bar?” He’d prefer one of the more private booths, but he was already pushing his luck. If they sat at the bar she’d be more comfortable, he sensed. And he was all for making Jacinta more comfortable.
They found seats at the bar and ordered drinks. Lex even let her pay for them, though it went against the grain.
“Thanks,” he said, raising his glass of bourbon.
“I just have one condition,” she said. “We don’t talk about anything to do with work. Agreed?”
“Well, jeez, I didn’t traipse all over the Mission looking for you just to talk about work. You have my solemn promise that not a word about work will slip past my lips.”
“Good.” She took a sip of her wine and seemed to relax.
“You were really something on that dance floor.” He slanted his head at the dancers. “Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
A blush rose in her cheeks. “How long were you watching me?”
“Long enough to catch that guy trying to hit on you.”
She pulled a face, circling a finger around the rim of her wineglass. “I wasn’t interested in him.”
“So I could tell.” He kept his gaze trained on her. “Anyone else I should be worried about?”
“What do you mean?”
“Any admirers, ex-boyfriends, men who have a crush on you? I just want to know who my competition is.”
“There—there’s no competition.” She toyed with a napkin, her eyelashes fluttering down, abashed.
Heat pulsed in him, dense and demanding, but he forced himself to keep a few inches between them.
“That’s good to know. As you know, I’m a competitive guy, and I like winning.”
“And what am I? Some prize at the end of the race?”
“No, you’re not a prize.” He frowned into his drink, aware that she was so much more. The knowledge disconcerted him a little. In the past he’d treated many women like a trophy, a reward at the end of a successful chase. But not Jacinta. He didn’t know why, but she wasn’t like any of those other women.
He glanced up, enjoying the sight of her sitting so close to him. “I like your company. I like everything about you. Your looks, your smarts, your dancing.” He leaned closer and nudged her shoulder with his. “I like the way you kiss, too.”
Her fingers crumpled the napkin, but then she looked up and gave him a saucy grin. “I’ve had some practice.”
The thought of Jacinta kissing anyone else but him made the muscles in his neck screw up. But he forced himself to relax. She was gorgeous, of course she’d had plenty of kissing practice.
“Well, my game’s a little rusty,” he drawled. “I could do with some practice myself.”
The cheeky glimmer in her eyes flared up, lighting a reciprocal fire in him.
“If you’re rusty,” she murmured, “all you need is some lubrication.”
Lust streaked along his veins like blue fire. He pushed their glasses to one side. Then, he wrapped an arm around her, splaying his palm across her back, before he leaned in, meeting her uplifted mouth with his.
She tasted of raspberries and wine and warm summer nights, her lips parting as he increased the pressure. Her tongue flickered delicately against his, and despite his considerable self-control, blood rushed to his groin, engorging his cock. At the back of his mind he vaguely remembered they were in a public bar with dozens of people around them. Not exactly the ideal place to get a hard on, but hey, he’d been dreaming about her all night and day, and his body could only take so much temptation without reacting.
He shifted his body sideways to conceal his hard on, at the same time stroking his hands up and down her back. Through the flimsy fabric of her dress he felt her body flex like a dancer’s as she angled closer to him, her mouth still on his, tender and hot at the same time, a dizzying, irresistible combination.
“Um,” she moaned as she finally broke the kiss.
With her eyelashes thick against her flushed cheeks and her lips moist and red, she looked as ripe and succulent as a rosy peach. He stroked his thumb pads gently over her cheeks, marveling at how natural and beautiful she was, and how he couldn’t get enough of her kisses.
Dipping his head, he ran the tip of his tongue lightly over the seam of her lips.
“Lubrication,” he murmured, his throat dry. “You’re right there.”
The corners of her lips edged up. “Maybe you need just a bit more practice.”
Hell, if he practiced anymore, he’d have her stripped naked on the bar counter. His hands shook as he coasted them down the sides of her body, following the contours of her curves. He was just about to draw her closer when someone jostled him from the side. Frowning, he turned, only to find Jacinta’s two friends standing close by, their curious gazes zig-zagging between him and Jacinta.
Jacinta drew back from him. “Oh, hi guys. Uh, had enough dancing?” Her voice sounded unnaturally squeaky.
“Yeah.” The tall redhead slanted her eyes in Lex’s direction. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“Sure. This is Lex. Lex, this is Heather and Marcy,” Jacinta gabbled off the introductions.
Lex exchanged greetings with the two women, aware of their curiosity and suspicion.
“Marcy and I are heading home,” Heather said to Jacinta, making faces at her. “Want to share a cab with us?”
“Um...” Jacinta’s gaze darted toward Lex. He widened his eyes at her, trying to convey to her that she couldn’t leave now, not when they’d just shared another incredible kiss. “I, er, think I’ll hang around for one more drink.”
“Okay.” Heather gave Lex a long stare as if to memorize his face in case she needed to describe him later to the cops. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
Marcy dropped Jacinta’s jacket and purse in her lap as she went to leave. “Bye, honey. Be good, and by the way, your lipstick’s smudged.”
The two women left the bar. Jacinta looked at Lex, a sheepish smile on her lips, and shrugged. “My friends are great.”
He settled his hand on her knee. “Don’t fix your lipstick. It’s only going to get smudged again.”