Deep in You (Phoenix #1) (2 page)

The club pulsed with energy, an almost tangible thing. I knew my friends would be around somewhere, and I would find them eventually… unless I got a better offer. I ambled through the dance floor, moving to the music and grinding with a hot blonde with a huge rack as I passed. She seemed fun but was way too easy. I preferred a challenge.

I approached the bar and settled onto a stool at the far end.

“Xander Phoenix. Been a while since I’ve seen you here.” The bartender was cute and slender with spikey pink hair, tattoos, and lots of piercings. “What can I get ya?”

“Jameson, neat. Make it a double, Chrissy.”

She poured the drink while I examined my surroundings. It had been a while since my last random encounter with a woman—at least three days. Practically an eternity. I enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the anonymity of a one-night stand. I never did repeat performances. That was just asking for disaster. No commitments, no mess, no emotions.

The image of long auburn hair and bright green eyes swam in my vision, but I shook myself out of it.
No.
I couldn’t think of Faith, the awkward reporter who had once interviewed me in my own home, disarming me with every glance. She was gone. She wasn’t even part of the equation and never had been. I’d only fixated on her because I’d never had her. I was sure of it. It did irritate me that no matter how many different women I hooked up with, it was never enough to get her out of my head.

A nearby couple talking together intimately captured my attention. Closer examination, however, proved they may not be as intimate as my first glance led me to believe. The woman was stunning, her dirty blonde hair tied in an elegant twist on the top of her head. She sipped her martini slowly, but never lowered the glass from her scarlet lips. Her deep brown eyes scanned the bar as if looking for an escape. She clearly didn’t like this guy and was trying to avoid having to speak to him.

For his part, the guy with her was horrible at taking hints. He leaned far too close, as though he were trying to claim her. He spoke animatedly, and I was able to catch bits and pieces of what he said. Stock market, retirement pensions, insurance premiums. No wonder she wanted to escape; the guy was trying to bore her to death. I signaled to the bartender and got up from my seat.

“Hey, Xander, you made it!” The voice of my buddy, John, filled my ears. I rarely ever saw John outside his shop or his home. He owned a gaming store and practically lived there. I occasionally turned up for a game of after-hours poker, but that crowd wasn’t my scene.

“Yeah, I’m here. Listen, it’s good to see you, but I can see that a very good friend I’ve never met needs my assistance.”

John followed my gaze. “Already? Damn, you move fast. I think that one’s taken, though.”

“Not for long. See you around.” I gave John the brush-off, prowled my way around the bar, and walked up behind my target.

I deliberately set my drink down and placed my hands on the bar on either side of her, protectively, like she belonged to me. I smiled down at her, resisting taking a blatant glance at the obvious bird’s-eye view of her tits.

“Hey, baby, I’m back. Did you miss me? Who’s your new friend?”

She blinked up at me, astonished. I winked, took her glass from her hand, and took a long pull. It was sweet and fruity. Definitely some sort of girly vodka martini.

“What are we drinking tonight? This is a far cry from the shots you normally do with me.”

This was the moment of truth. She could choose Mr. Retirement Fund… or me. It only took a second before I saw the gears click into place.

“Hey! Glad you made it. Of course I missed you. Why did you keep me waiting? As for this guy? He’s…”

We both turned to stare at him.

“I–I’m j-just leaving,” he stammered. “It was good meeting you, Lily. I’m sor–bye.” Mr. Retirement Fund bolted toward the door.

I stepped up onto the recently-vacated barstool and smiled at her. I finished off my drink and gestured to the bartender, who immediately brought over a fresh whiskey and a replacement martini for my new friend.

“How did you know I don’t normally drink martinis?” she asked me once the bartender moved on to another patron.

I smirked. “I didn’t. I just wanted him to see I was comfortable taking your drink. Showed him that we were together and got rid of him.”

“Who
are
you?” she asked.

“Me? I’m just a guy who likes to help.”

“No, really. You look familiar.”

“Just one of those faces.” I downed the second shot. Here’s the thing about me: I don’t like to go the easy route. Sure, I used my status and celebrity to skip the line outside, but that’s pretty much where I prefer the special treatment to end. I leaned back on my stool and very obviously looked her over from head to toe, enjoying the blush that colored her cheeks. She picked up her martini glass and took a long swallow. Her tongue flicked out to lick her full, perfect lips as she lowered her glass. I found myself entranced. Those lips would be so beautiful wrapped around my cock later.

I cleared my throat. “So, seeing as how I rescued you from a dull evening of stock exchanges and retirement plans, do I get to know your name?”

She chuckled, a full, throaty laugh. “You were listening that closely, were you?”

Shit.
I’d lost focus. I never should have let that slip. I was rapidly losing the upper hand. I leaned forward, my blue-gray eyes boring into her brown ones. “No. I know his type.”

“What type is that?”

“The boring nine-to-five type. They think the way to get to a woman is through their bank account. They may be stable, but rarely have the kind of money needed to
really
impress anyone. Simple, uninteresting, predictable. I’m sure he seemed like a nice guy, but he probably doesn’t know how to please a woman in bed.”

There it was. Her eyes darkened, and she licked her lips again. “And I suppose you do, then?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re overly cocky if you think I’m nothing but a cheap blonde bimbo who will just fall into bed with you at the snap of your fingers. While I appreciate your help, I see no reason why you’d be considered an improvement.”

Oh, I liked this one. She had spirit. I leaned toward her, conspiratorially. “It’s not cockiness if it’s true.”

“So you
do
think I’m a cheap blonde bimbo?”

“Not at all. I can tell that isn’t the case just looking at you.” I checked her out again. “Beautiful. Classy. The kind of girl who knows the difference between a mustang and a mule.”

She snorted. “Definitely cocky… and corny. I know your type.”

“I would be happy to back up my claims.”

“You should be so lucky.”

She sounded tough, but she had put her glass down and was giving me her full attention. “I think
you’re
the one who brought up the idea of us going to bed together.
I
merely spoke of your friend’s apparent inability to please a woman.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“I’m very glad to hear that,” I murmured, knowing she’d be the only one who could hear me. She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to. I knew I had won. Game. Set. Match. “Dance with me.”

She looked a little surprised. “What?”

I grinned. “Dance with me.”

I stood, and pain shot through my right ankle. Not too bad. Tolerable. Dancing probably wasn’t the best idea I’d ever had, but my ankle was wrapped up, and I was determined to close the deal. I held out my hand to help her from her seat. She hesitated, but I stood still, determined. I waited for her to make the right decision.

She relented and slid down from her barstool, refusing my hand. I gestured for her to lead the way, but she stumbled. Without thinking about it, I was at her side, assisting her, my hand at the small of her back.

“Wow. Those martinis hit you out of nowhere,” she said with a giggle. “I’ve got this. Just felt weird for a moment.”

“Maybe I like helping you,” I answered, flexing my fingers against her spine. Together, we made our way to the dance floor.

If there is one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that, given the right partner, most women love to dance. They love being able to rub their bodies all over a man, drive him to distraction, while remaining in a safe and very public environment.

I led her onto the dance floor just as the song transformed into a heady, sexually charged tempo. Not slow enough to be awkward, but not so fast as to deter intimacy.
Perfect.

She looked a little self-conscious, facing me with uncertainty, like she didn’t know where to start. People jostled us from every direction. A woman with bright blue hair came up to my left and gyrated against me, but I ignored her. I pulled my mystery friend—Lily, I’d heard that asshole call her–by the wrist into me, spinning her around to face away from me and holding her to my chest. I lowered my face to her ear. “Stop thinking so much. Just let the music take you. Lose yourself in its rhythm.”

She shuddered in my arms. I started to dance, rolling my hips into her. She responded, finally stepping free and surrendering herself to the music. Now that she had relaxed, I could see that she was no novice to dancing, just as I’d expected. She kept her back to me, which gave me the chance to appreciate her perfect ass. Fuck, this girl could move. She knew exactly what to do to make my blood simmer.

The music changed to a slower beat. I closed the distance between us and gripped her waist, pulling her into me. She stiffened as she felt my cock hard against her ass, but quickly relaxed into my embrace as we swayed slowly to the music. I leaned down to her ear once more.

“Do I get to know your name now?” I murmured, my voice husky.

She turned around and gazed up at me. She placed her hands on my chest and slowly, seductively moved them up and around my neck, allowing me to pull her close and wrap my arms around her waist. “Lily Campbell.”

I smiled down at her. “Xander Phoenix.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “
The
Xander Phoenix? The X-Wing? The man who flies?”

“One and the same. But that’s business; this is about pleasure. Don’t think about any of that.”

“I knew you looked familiar. I’ve seen–”

I cut her off with a kiss. I knew what she’d seen, what they’d all seen. I didn’t want to talk about gymnastics now. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I like being able to control my body to do these things, enjoy the admiration I get. It just wasn’t my focus here in the club. My interest was only in the beautiful woman in front of me.

I deepened our embrace, capturing her mouth with mine, claiming her. She was delicious; sweet with a slight taste of martini. My tongue caressed hers, danced with hers. My pulse increased to dangerous levels as she moaned and matched me stroke for stroke. I retreated slightly before driving into her again, our mouths a mimicry of what I wanted to do to her with my body. Everything else fell away–the club, the people pressing into us from all sides, the noise, all of it. It was just me and her, doing positively indecent things, uncaring of who saw us. Unable to resist, I roughly groped her breast through her shirt.

She pulled back, her eyes dark, hooded. We both breathed heavily, and my head spun. I felt drunk off her pheromones. She took my hand and led me off the dance floor through the club’s exit.

The humidity washed over us as soon as we stepped free of the air-conditioned building, breaking the spell. I signaled to the valet, noticing she didn’t make a move. “Your car?”

“I took a cab.”

Interesting. She’d expected to leave with someone… or she’d expected to get so drunk she couldn’t drive. One of those. I supposed I shouldn’t judge. I’d intended to leave with someone, too. My car was brought up. I held the passenger door open for her before getting in the driver’s seat.

She watched me, desire apparent on her face. She didn’t offer any directions, so I steered the car onto the freeway, shifted into sixth, and headed toward my place.

Chapter Three

I pulled into my circular driveway, parking and killing the engine. “This is it.”

Lily stared through the windshield. “It’s not as big as I expected.”

“That’ll be the only time you say that to me tonight.” Her face flushed crimson, and I chuckled. “I don’t need a lot of living space. I’m the only one who lives here. Come on.” I got out and walked around to open her door for her.

“What a gentleman,” she said as I helped her out of the car and led her to the house.

“At times. Would you like a tour?” At her nod, I continued, gesturing with my chin. “Straight ahead is the living area. There to the right is the kitchen, and here to the left is the guest room. The master suite is upstairs. Simple. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

I selected a sweet red from the refrigerator and grabbed a couple of glasses.

“What’s through those doors?” she called from the living room.

I joined her and handed her one of the glasses. “My gym.”

“Can I see it?”

“Maybe later.”

“Please?”

“Later. I have far more important things on my mind right now. To us.” We clinked our glasses together and drank. “So what brought you to the club tonight without a car, Lily Campbell?”