“Who the fuck is this?”
The furious voice booming in my ear made my head snap up and around, every muscle in my body tensing in preparation for a confrontation. A tall, beefy-looking dude was standing next to me, his beady eyes volleying from me to the woman next to me, trying to figure out what was going on between us. With each pass, he looked more and more pissed.
My heart sank as I realized what was probably happening. (Well, more like definitely, knowing my track record.) Despite every single one of my instincts screaming at me not to take my eyes off the guy who was probably about to take a swing at me, I snuck a look at my date, Brittney. She widened her eyes slightly, just enough for me to pick up on her subtle signal.
A signal I was really tired of receiving.
I gave her a small, weary nod, and she turned to smile at the hulking lunkhead who was almost certainly her boyfriend. Or fiancé. Or even, I realized as I spotted the thick gold band on his left ring finger, her husband.
I sighed. Looked like I was in for another disappointing night. Disappointing, probably painful, and definitely sexually frustrating. Like it wasn’t bad enough that I only ever had a handful of opportunities to actually connect with a nice girl. No, the ones I connected with all had to be bad girls in disguise, too.
And of course I’d worn my glasses tonight. Now I would have to deal with yet another broken pair when the cuckold du jour punched me.
“Babe!” Brittney chirped, amping up her smile as she looked back at her husband. “What are you doing here?”
"I followed you." Lunkhead narrowed his eyes. “Who the fuck is this?” he repeated, raising a huge fist and extending a thick finger in my direction.
Brittney turned back to me, giving me a faux-apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, what was your name again?” She looked back to her husband. “I was just waiting for Madison and Amanda to get here, and this guy just, like, came up next to me,” she continued in a falsely innocent tone, one I doubted even the Neanderthal looming over us would buy.
He flicked his tiny eyes to me, and I nodded quickly, trying to paste an equally guiltless look on my face. Because I may have gotten duped continually by every cheating female in the Phoenix metro area, but I was not a total moron. Lunkhead was about three-and-a-half seconds from making hash out of my flesh.
“The bartender is absolutely swamped, so we were just making small talk while we wait.” Brittney gestured around to the crowded bar. It was a Thursday – ladies’ night – so it was plausible that the bartender hadn’t been by in a bit. He’d been overwhelmed tonight by the bevy of women lured into this hole-in-the-wall by cheap drinks and the promise of lots of good-looking, barely legal dudes from the ASU campus a couple of blocks away.
But Lunkhead was clearly brighter than he looked, as his gaze zeroed in on the drinks in front of us. They were mostly full, because the bartender had actually just been by a couple of minutes ago. Which was right after Brittney had finally showed up, forty minutes late and dripping apologies about the rush hour traffic.
Rush hour had ended three hours ago, but I’d given her a pass, mostly because she was hot. And also because I hadn’t been laid in so long, I could only vaguely remember what sex felt like.
“Brittney,” Lunkhead said slowly, blinking at her. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Brittney opened her mouth to spout what would undoubtedly be another lie, but she was distracted by a shout from right behind me.
“Babe!” An arm landed around my shoulder, and I got a whiff of some exotic scent that I couldn’t immediately identify. Then I felt a set of full, soft lips plant a kiss on my cheek.
“Just go with it,” a voice whispered in my ear, so softly I barely heard it over the blaring music and rowdy crowd.
I turned, and Christ on a matzoh. I was rendered speechless by the sight that greeted my eyes. Brittney – and every other woman I’d ever met – was instantly forgotten.
Because the woman who’d just draped herself all over me was a veritable Amazon. A goddess right here on Earth. And she was smiling at me like we’d known each other – in the Biblical sense – for years. But I was sure I’d never seen her before. I would remember that milk chocolate skin, that wild, naturally curly hair, and especially those eyes. Mischief and humor and intelligence, all rolled into the most beautiful hazel orbs I’d ever seen. Even in the dim bar lighting, I could make out a mix of green and brown, with little gold flecks around the pupils.
The woman was absolutely stunning. And even if I had no idea who she was or why she'd just come to my rescue, I vowed right there and then to capitalize on this rare stroke of good luck.
She shifted, pressing herself into my side, and my eyes dipped to get a better look at her. A knitted halter top adorned the top half of her body, giving me peeks of the smooth, dark skin beneath through the open weave. Her jeans were funky and retro, flaring out at the knee. The whole outfit was doing amazing things for her body.
And oh, that body. Long (she was even taller than me), luscious, and full in all the right places. That body was giving me all kinds of ideas. She had a body made to be worshipped.
And I knew just the man for the job.
The goddess winked at me as she reached across and grabbed my pint glass. “Thanks for keeping my drink company while I was in the ladies’ room, honey,” she purred in a smoky, seductive voice. Then she took a healthy swig, moaning softly and licking her lips as she set the glass back down on the polished bar top. I shifted, suddenly uncomfortable in my tailored slacks. There was nothing – nothing – sexier to me than a woman who loved beer.
Brittney had ordered a strawberry daiquiri. That should have been my first clue.
“So, who are your friends?” the mystery woman asked, turning to Brittney and Lunkhead and giving them a dazzling smile.
“Oh, no,” Brittney squeaked, her laugh sounding thin and forced. “We don’t know each other.”
It was a good thing for her that my tongue was still tied in knots, because I really wanted to point out that we’d been chatting and flirting for over a week through a dating app before finally meeting up tonight. And not once had she mentioned her linebacker of a husband. Given my weird luck, you’d better believe I’d asked.
I was getting pretty sick of that, actually. Sick enough that my temper was about to boil over. Brittney was married, for God’s sake, and she wasn’t even close to the first woman to lie to me about her relationship status. Why did all these women want to throw away a good thing for a quick thrill? And why did they always want to do it with me? Was there something about me that attracted cheaters? I thought women stepped out with bad boys, someone more exciting than the men waiting for them at home.
That’s just not me. I know my worth, and it doesn’t lie in being anyone’s thrill-seeking fantasy man.
“She’s your girlfriend?” Lunkhead asked, his tone still suspicious, his eyes narrowing in my direction. He pointed that meaty finger at the woman who was still pressed to my side, her arm around my shoulder and her soft curls tickling my ear.
I stole another look at her, and yeah, I could definitely see his point. This six-foot-plus woman with killer style and seemingly all the confidence in the world was not who I’d picture me with, either. On paper, she was way out of my league.
But she seemed determined to help me out of this jam, and I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Sure am,” the Amazon replied confidently, sticking her free hand out to shake, that incredible smile still firmly in place. “I’m Sabine,” she added. “Sabine Baptiste.”
Sabine. Of course this goddess had a suitably exotic name.
“Brett,” the linebacker grunted, shaking briefly before taking his hand back and planting it on his wife’s ass. He turned back to me, raising a pale brow expectantly, and I realized he still didn’t know my name.
I cleared my desert-dry throat. “Eric Levy,” I croaked, giving a half-wave. I was still a little nonplussed by the unexpected, crazy turn this evening had taken.
“Well, I guess Madison and Amanda aren’t going to make it,” Brittney said, staring at her phone screen, which I noticed was blank. She quickly pocketed it when Lunkhead – er, Brett – followed her gaze. She looked up at him, smiling sweetly. “Madison just texted and said they were going to stay in tonight after all. Amanda broke up with Chris again.” She frowned in concern, but it seemed really false to me.
But then, everything from her eyelashes to her purse to her hair color was starting to seem fake to me. Must be because I knew now that she was a lying liar who habitually lied.
“I should really head over there and console with her,” Brittney continued, widening her eyes, looking suitably distressed on her friend’s behalf. “She needs her girls tonight, babe.”
Brett the Lunkhead looked down at his wife, then back at me and my “girlfriend,” seemingly torn. It was clear that he didn’t quite buy this whole mishegoss. But after a long moment, his beady little eyes softened, and he gave Brittney a smile, like he’d decided to believe her.
Sucker. And clearly a willing sucker, too. Little wonder Brittney was stepping out on him – he left the proverbial porch light on for her.
“You’re such a good friend, babe,” he said softly, making goo-goo eyes at the woman who had come here, not to meet up with her friends, but to hook up with me.
I barely suppressed a snarl. My duplicitous date was probably headed off to another bar to try to hook up with some other unsuspecting sap, and while Brett didn’t seem to mind, I sure did. The number of lies piling up made me sick to my stomach. In fact, I’d be shocked if Madison and Amanda were even real people. Far more likely that they were simply made-up, flimsy covers for her serial cheating. Brittney probably even used stock photos or Photoshop to make it look like she’d known these fictional friends for years.
I closed my eyes briefly, letting out a slow breath. God, I was going insane. But in my defense, I was just completely done with dating someone else’s woman, even if I never did it on purpose. I just wanted to find someone of my own, someone I could build a life with. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask? Just one woman who would be faithful to me, and I to her. I wanted a relationship like my parents and grandparents had, a life filled with laughter and family and love. And hamentashen. Definitely couldn’t forget the hamentashen. My grandmother had the best recipe.
Maybe I should follow Bubbe’s advice and try to find a nice Jewish girl to settle down with, I thought. She’d just been haranguing me about it this morning over breakfast, in fact. But then, she’d called me by my father’s name, because she seemed to think it was still 1983, before my dad had met and married my mother and had my older sister and me.
Bubbe had been calling me Benjamin a lot lately, actually. When she recognized me at all.
But that was a heartbreak for another day. Right now, I needed to concentrate if I was going to turn my current bad luck around.
My rescuer – Sabine – shifted slightly, pressing those delicious curves closer. Then she turned to me, widening her eyes. I blinked at her for a moment, still dazed by the situation. And her. Definitely dazed by her. Part of me was calculating how soon we could ditch Brittney and Brett and get out of our clothes, and the other part of me was hoping she might turn out to be Jewish.
Nah, I couldn’t get that lucky.
She pinched my shoulder lightly and widened her eyes again. Oh. She was obviously trying to tell me something. I wasn’t quite sure what she was getting at, until her gaze flicked to my arms, which were hanging uselessly at my sides. Then her head inclined ever so slightly toward Brett, who was once again looking at me suspiciously.
Of course. I wasn’t exactly selling the whole “she’s my girlfriend” thing, was I? So I did the only logical thing to do in that moment: I slid an arm around her waist, resting my hand on her soft, lush hip.
Yes. Yes, this is perfect, my brain practically swooned. But it really was. Despite the fact that she was taller than me, Sabine fit against me like she was made to be there. My fingers slowly creeped upward, sneaking under her top like they had a mind of their own. I gently rubbed her silky skin, and I hummed in approval at the feel of her under my fingertips. So soft.
She shivered, her fingers digging into my shoulder painfully. I frowned, pulling my hand away and resting it on the relatively safe territory of her jeans. I guess groping a woman I barely knew was taking this charade a little too far.
But Sabine leaned in, her breath fanning across my ear as she murmured just loud enough for me to hear. “Don’t you fucking dare stop that.” And then her teeth sank into my earlobe.
My knees buckled, and my other hand shot out to the bar, gripping it with white knuckles. I held myself very still, willing my body to calm down before it became very obvious how much I liked her sharp teeth – and even sharper words. But at the same time, I let my hand wander back under her shirt. Because as I’ve already pointed out, I was not a total moron.
“Well, I’d better take off,” Brittney said. “Nice to meet you guys!” She shot me one last pleading look.
“Mmmm,” I grunted, not trusting myself to speak. Half of me still wanted to out Brittney for the dirty rotten cheater she was, and the other half was preoccupied with a different kind of dirty. Specifically, all the dirty, dirty things I wanted to do with the mysteriously altruistic woman by my side.
Brittney gave us a cheerful wave that looked completely unencumbered by guilt as she turned to go. I breathed a sigh of relief as Brett the Lunkhead followed, pulling his cheating wife away from the bar and out the door without another word.
Leaving me alone at last with my rescuer. The goddess. Sabine.