Intoxicated Page 2

  “Hmmph.” Jack cocked an eyebrow at his friend. “Seems the sex gods are smiling down on me. She caught her ex and best friend in bed last week.” He jerked his head toward the couple at the end of the bar engaged in an embarrassing display of affection.

  “Oh, yeah. I know that guy. He’s a dick,” Randy said with his usual blunt honesty. “I’d do that girl he’s with though.”

  “Is there anyone you wouldn’t do?” Jack shook his head and opened a new bottle of tequila for the well.

  “Said the pot to the kettle.” Randy looked away from the couple, his attention caught by a pair of rough-looking men near the exit. As he turned his head, his tousled hair brushed an angry red scar visible above the collar of his t-shirt. The slash ran from ear to collarbone and gave him a dangerous air. “Not everyone has your luck with women, dude. You sweep through this place like a tornado every weekend. Some of us have to work to get laid.”

  Jack smirked at Randy then returned his gaze to Brian and Becca. They seemed oblivious to anyone and anything outside of their own intimate bubble, laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. He’d seen the hurt in Ally’s eyes as she scurried off to the ladies room. Jaded as he was, it seemed callous to flaunt your infidelity under the nose of your ex. That kind of exploitation was the very thing he abhorred. Right from the start, he made damn sure that any woman who slept with him had no expectations beyond a mind-blowing orgasm and coffee the next morning. If they had any delusions of feelings on his part, then that was their own damn fault and not his.

  “Fifty bucks says you can’t get past first base,” Randy said, pulling a wad of bills from his front pocket and Jack from his introspection.

  “You’re on.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  The ladies room was a tiny four-stall affair with graffiti on the walls and a dingy linoleum floor that always seemed wet. Someone sniffled and sobbed from the far stall, visible only by black leather boots underneath the stall door. The drums of the band thudded through the walls, a muffled and distant throbbing like a heartbeat. Ally stepped into a stall next to the sniffler and drew in a deep breath to slow her racing pulse. Her physical reaction to the sudden appearance of the happy couple irritated her. After all, they were bound to run into each other eventually. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe she should have stayed home until the wound was a little less raw.

  She used the bathroom then washed her hands. Jack’s phone number stood out in bold relief against her fair skin. She smiled at his arrogance and shook her head, amused. His empty flattery gave her flagging ego a well-needed boost even though she knew better than to take his pretty words to heart.

  When she was done, she considered going straight out the front door and as far away from the backstabbing pair as she could get. That would be admitting defeat, however, and she was too stubborn to do any such thing. After all, she had done nothing wrong and damned if she would validate their behavior by running. They were the ones who should be embarrassed. They were the ones who should slink away in shame. Instead of leaving, she lifted her chin, reclaimed her barstool, and set about the task of getting shit-faced drunk.

  Miss Ponytail had taken up residence in Jack’s Seat of Shame. The girl had one hand on Jack’s arm, rubbing the swell of his tattooed bicep with a sly smile on her crimson red lips. Upon seeing Ally, Jack deserted the new girl, grabbed two shot glasses and a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind the bar, and took up the empty barstool next to her.

  “That’s some crazy shit, them showing up here like that,” he said as he filled both glasses and pushed one towards her. “I admire your control. I probably would’ve punched one of them in the mouth.”

  For the millionth time that day, she withered with embarrassment. She decided to pretend indifference to cover her shame. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “That. Over there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the happy couple. “They’re having a bit of a disagreement over whether to leave or stay. Seems your presence has shaken them up a little. Wanna know what they said?”

  The question gave birth to a dozen more emotions that she didn’t want to face. A flush crept up her neck and into her face. The heat of it burned her cheeks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that eavesdropping is impolite?”

  “She did,” he admitted with a flash of dimples, “but I learn the most interesting things that way.”

  She considered crawling inside her peep-toe pumps and never coming out. It was bad enough to be at the center of a devastating breakup but to rehash it with Captain Mayhem – a perfect stranger – was beyond demeaning. Jack stared at her with a half smile curving his full lips, dark eyes serious and watchful like a cat stalking a mouse hole. This was some kind of twisted game to him, a test to see if she measured up to whatever standard he had set for her.

  “Thanks for the concern but I’m fine.” She tossed back the shot and slammed the glass down on the bar in one smooth motion. “I thought I was cut off.”

  He grinned and refilled both their glasses. “Seems I misjudged you, Popsicle. You’ve got a higher tolerance than I thought.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said. “Why did you call me that? I hate it.”

  “Call you what?”

  “Popsicle.” She glared at him.

  He grinned again, mischief flashing in his dark eyes. “You remind me of a popsicle – sweet and cool – with a stick up your ass.”

  If anyone else had said that to her, she would have been offended but the way he said it with such obvious delight over his own cleverness – well, it was adorable. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. How did he do that? How could he make her want to laugh when everything had gone so horribly wrong? Even more troubling was the sweet pang of attraction she felt for him when her former fiancé stood a few feet away.

  “Shouldn’t you be working?” Maybe he would take the hint and go away. She had so many wayward thoughts to work through and his tempting presence only distracted her.

  “Probably, but this is way more fun.” He tossed back his own shot. “I consider this part of my job. You know – customer interaction.”

  The focus of his gaze left her face, slid down to her pink polished toes, and lingered for an indecent amount of time on her cleavage. That sinful look violated every prim and proper notion she had ever had about herself. In fact, it turned her on in a number of ways, most of which God and her ex-Marine father would never condone. Thank goodness she wasn’t religious and her dad was on a trip to the Hamptons.

  A quick glance over Jack’s shoulder revealed Brian staring at them with shock and disapproval…or was that jealousy? Brian had never looked at her that way – not even in the beginning when their relationship had been fresh and new. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but a sudden desire for revenge swept over her like a rogue wave. Brian didn’t like Jack and never had. It would bruise his considerable ego to see that his spurned fiancée had moved on to someone else so quickly, that she had replaced him with someone like Jack. She straightened on her barstool. If Brian expected her to sit at home, bawling her eyes out, he was sadly mistaken.

  She turned to Jack. “I suppose you think you can solve all my problems.” She kept her tone light and flirtatious, the way she’d heard Becca talk to guys.

  “I’d like to try. You want to make that cheating bastard jealous? Maybe we need to remind him of what he’s lost.” Once again he was in her head, anticipating her thoughts. He grinned and bit his lower lip. The gesture drew her gaze to his wide mouth. Full, sensuous, and slightly pink, those lips looked as if they’d just finished kissing someone. The thought sent pangs of desire shooting through her womb. She pressed her thighs together to stave them off. “I’m here for you, Popsicle. Whatever you need.”

  “I didn’t think one-on-one was your thing.”

  “Well, your friends can come, too.” The dark eyes gleamed. “If you’ll pardon the pun.”

  “That’s a generous offer, but I wouldn’t w
ant to get lost in the crowd.” She attempted to toss her head, wobbled drunkenly, and gripped the bar to stabilize. “Maybe you should go ask Miss Ponytail over there. She seems to have a thing for you.” She nodded in the direction of Jack’s Seat of Shame, to the somewhat wilted blond who watched them with disappointment in her eyes.

  “Yeah, she’s willing…but girls like her are a dime a dozen.” He shrugged and leaned down to her. “You on the other hand…” With his mouth lingering millimeters away, his breath washed warm and soft over her ear. “You take my breath away and always have. Say the word and I’ll ditch her. We can take your mind off those problems you’re having. Consider it a birthday gift from me to you.”

  They stared at each other. Brian and Becca were forgotten. Jack’s boldness shocked her and sent her wavering between amused disbelief and turned-on. A lifetime of experience had taught her that guys like Jack weren’t interested in girls like her. They went for long-legged beauties with easy smiles and short skirts, not shy curvaceous girls with eating issues. With a sigh, she ran a finger around the edge of her shot glass. This had to be some sort of prank. The endless parade of girls through his Seat of Shame suggested that he could have any girl he wanted – so why her?

  A glance over his shoulder at Brian and Becca steeled her nerve. The hell with her insecurities. The promise of revenge tasted so much sweeter.

  “Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about it.” Her words shocked her words but she took the leap, her confidence buoyed by the disapproving glares of Becca and Brian.

  Jack’s dark eyes narrowed as he weighed her sincerity. Her breath caught at the sultry stare. She might be the tiniest bit over her head. Guys like Jack took no prisoners and she could be his next – albeit willing – casualty. He jerked his head toward the back hallway. There was only one reason Jack took girls into the back and everyone knew it. Throwing caution to the wind, she abandoned her barstool and followed a few seconds behind him, noting with satisfaction Brian’s open-mouthed surprise and Becca’s tight-lipped frown.

  Jack didn’t turn around until they reached the end of the hallway. The only light came from the red exit sign above the back door which cast a devilish red glow on his angular features. She leaned against the wall, legs shaky more from nervousness than liquor-induced intoxication. She’d never done anything like this before – never dreamed of doing anything like this. Jack stopped and turned to face her, staring with an intensity that made her stomach flip.

  One second passed, then two, dragging by with leaden feet.

  In a flash, like two opposing magnets, their bodies snapped together. His lips crushed against her mouth and his hands cupped her face. Any thoughts of Brian dissolved in the sensation of being pressed against the wall by a tall hunk of manly perfection. Soft lips caressed and demanded. Her willing mouth opened to receive his kiss. Bearded stubble raked her chin as he pushed her back against the wall. A moan of pleasure escaped them both when he slid his hands upward to hold her breasts.

  The sensation of helplessness that happens just before a disaster, of being out of control and powerless to stop it, overwhelmed her. It was like driving a car on ice, unable to steer but committed to the ride. The hardness of his body dominated her softness. She ran her hands underneath his shirt to feel the swell and hollow of his muscular chest. Jack pulled her skirt up, well above her thighs. They moved in perfect accord as if they had done it a million times, as if they belonged together in the darkened hallway. Her heart fluttered in excitement and her stomach clenched as his hand slid between her thighs.

  Rough and demanding, his muscular length pinned her against the smoke stained wall. Skillful fingers moved between her thighs to bring her to a fever pitch. The loud music of the band vibrated through the wall and into her back. He tasted of cigarettes and whiskey and smelled faintly of leather and soap. Her liquor-soaked brain tried and failed to sort through all the sensations. The picture above her left shoulder rattled on its nail. She knew exactly how it felt, poised on the brink of falling and helpless to stop it. Jack put his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. She wanted nothing more than to surrender, to let him take her in the back hallway of Felony, to eradicate any memories of Becca and Brian.

  Brian…

  Reason reared its ugly head and she panicked. She shoved hard on his chest and tore her lips from his.

  “Wait! Please.” The words were barely more than a gasp, but he heard her and froze.

  The music stopped and all she could hear was the thundering of her blood in her ears. They stood staring at each other, chests heaving, struggling for breath. After a few seconds, Jack swallowed hard and disentangled from her, backed away slowly until he was certain that she wouldn’t fall, and began to right his clothing. Her fingers shook and stumbled over the buttons of her blouse as she rushed to cover her exposed breasts.

  “Well, that was unexpected.” Jack’s voice broke the silence, hoarse and rough. Did he mean the kiss or her abrupt change of heart? “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, no,” she said, embarrassed. The guy must think she was a complete moron. “I can’t do this. I mean…I’m drunk and upset. This is all wrong.” Her hands trembled as unshed tears welled up in her eyes. Damn! What was it with the tears today?

  Jack covered her hands with his and held them between their chests. When she looked up, the left corner of his lips curved in a smile and his eyes twinkled.

  “It’s alright. No big deal.” He dropped a light kiss on her forehead. “You’re right. This is not the time or the place.” He released her hands and deftly buttoned up her blouse. “Now close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax.”

  She closed her eyes. Cleansing air rushed into her lungs. She took in a deep breath then exhaled. He was right; she felt better immediately. The band started playing again. She opened her eyes and their gazes met. They both grinned and her insecurities floated away.

  “I can’t find my panties,” she said. “I know I had them just a minute ago.”

  “I have that effect on women.” His smile broadened to reveal those delicious dimples. “Panties just fall off and disappear into thin air when I’m around.”

  He lit up a cigarette, violating the city non-smoking ban, and took a deep drag on it, eyeing her with cool interest. To her surprise, he took one of her hands in his. His grip was warm and reassuring. For some reason, she felt oddly comfortable with the guy like she’d known him forever. But what did she know about him? Nothing really…not where he lived or where he came from.

  “You don’t even know my name,” she said, thoughts taking shape aloud.

  “Allegra Taylor. But your friends call you Ally or Al,” he said. “125 Old Towne Road. You like peppermint gum and you floss your teeth with those little plastic pick things.”

  “How could you possibly know that?”

  “You left your purse on the bar when you went to the bathroom and I might have taken a peek inside it.” He had the good grace to look a trifle abashed, but his dark eyes flashed with mischief. When her brow furrowed, he raised an eyebrow as if daring her to chastise him.

  “You did what?” At her look of horror, he laughed. The warm and pleasant sound washed over her, bringing a fresh tingle of excitement to her breasts and a shy smile to her lips.

  They fell into silence again as he smoked his cigarette, tendrils of smoke curling around his head. Jack continued to watch her with dark inscrutable eyes, the fingers of his left hand laced through hers. If only this moment could last forever, she thought while knowing that it would have to end. As if to prove her right, the hall door opened. A big guy with auburn hair, poked his head into the hallway and seemed relieved to find them both clothed.

  “Jack! Phone,” the guy said. “It’s you-know-who again.”

  “Take a message,” Jack bellowed still staring at Ally.

  “Take your own damn message. What am I – your secretary?” The guy turned and disappeared. The door banged shut behind him.

&nb
sp; “Shit.” Jack sighed, dropped his cigarette to the floor, and crushed it out with the heel of his battered cowboy boot. He looked her up and down, face inscrutable. “I’ve got concert tickets for tomorrow night. Wanna go?”

  “Are you asking me on a date? I thought you didn’t do dates.” For the thousandth time that night, her heart skipped a beat. She put a hand on her chest to quiet it as if he could hear it thudding against her ribs.

  “I don’t, but seems like you need a night out and I have an extra ticket.” He ran a finger along her cheek and traced the dimple tucked there. Unlike Jack whose face was a study of symmetry, she only had one dimple. “It’s a perk of the job. Promoters are always handing out tickets. We could grab something to eat beforehand. Make an evening of it.”

  “I don’t know…” She bit her lower lip in contemplation as she wavered between flattered and distrust. The drunken, irrational part of her jumped up and down in excitement while the insecure, conservative part shook its head in warning. If he was able to charm the panties off of her after a few drinks, what might happen in the space of a few hours of close contact? “Thanks, but I’m not sure that I’m up for it quite yet.”

  “Suit yourself. Maybe another time.” With an easy shrug, he turned and walked down the hallway. “Take it easy.” Something pink twirled around his finger as he walked.

  My panties.

  “Hey! Give those back.”

  “Souvenir,” he replied. “Something to remember you by.” He crushed the silk fabric in his hand, buried his nose in it, and took in a deep breath. Over his shoulder, he shot her another one of those dark, mischievous glances, a look that she was beginning to covet.

  He disappeared through the doorway and left her to lean against the wall for a few more minutes in an attempt to pull herself together. Tomorrow she would feel embarrassed and remorseful. In the present she was dizzy, euphoric, and a little bit disappointed that nothing more had happened. Her lips tingled from his kiss, a kiss that lit a desire unlike any she had ever known. Now she knew exactly why the redheaded girl was crying…because he was just that good. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she was drawn to him.