Page 54 of Wild Thing
Movement behind the bar caught my attention. The bartender elbowed another colleague, nodding towards the entrance. Their tongues were practically on the floor, their eyes bulging out of their head.
I angled my head to see who they were looking at, but I already knew it would be Dylan.
Her outfit…damn.
My dick twitched in response at the sight of her. Black, wet-look leather pants, clung to her legs like a second skin. A tight-fitting white tank top with the word ‘SMOKIN’ in red written across the middle, accentuated her breasts and tiny waist.
Her onyx hair was up in a high bun, with red, cherry lips and dark, smoky eyes.
She looked every bit the femme fatale. Like she’d devour anyone that dared to look her in those sharpened eyes.
All eyes were on her as she strutted in, oblivious to the attention she drew from every man—and woman—in the vicinity. She had absolutely no idea how hot she was.
“Hey,” she said casually as she pulled up a bar stool next to mine.
I was lost for words. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her.
“You look…”
She pointed to her shirt that indeed spelled it out. “Smokin’?”
“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Yeah. Keen for tonight?”
“I can’t believe you got us tickets,” she said excitedly, playfully nudging me in the arm with her elbow. “I didn’t even know they were here!”
She was cute when she was excited. She crinkles her nose and her voice squeaks. Like her inner child bubbles to the surface briefly, before the dark queen takes back control.
Dylan's chestnut eyes sparkled as she ordered a vodka soda.
She turned towards me. “So, how was your day?”
“Better now.”
We stared at each other for a few moments. The weight of my “better now” hung in the air. It was true, my day was better now that we were here.
Thatshewas here.
She felt the same, I knew it down to my core. I could read her, she still had the same tells.
Like when she’s annoyed, she bundles her hands into little fists. Or when she laughs, she covers her mouth with her hands and squints her eyes. Or the way her eyes softens when she sees a puppy, and how she takes a little breath in when she reads a steamy scene from one of her smutty books.
I wondered if she still reads that shit. It was basically glorified porn.
The truth was this: I had never stopped being attracted to Dylan. And not just for the obvious physical reasons, but for the way she thinks and approaches life.
She’d never been interested in keeping up with the Joneses.
And I’d always run as far away from those motherfuckers as I could.
Dylan nodded a thanks to the bartender as he placed her drink on the bar. “Have you heard any other feedback from the Omega team?”
“Feedback is all positive,” I nudged her and teased. “Not just a cushion fluffer after all.”
She slapped my leg.
If we couldn’t touch each other sexually, we were finding any way at all to have some sort of physical connection.
“What about you? What do you think?”
