Hustler (12 page)

Her eyes study mine, wavering back and forth, she’s speechless and turned on. I know this because of the way she keeps licking her lips and looking at mine, as if they are preparing to attack her.

Fuck, I might just suck her bottom lip into my mouth, just for the hell of it to make a point.

“Holy shit,” Page and Davies whisper together, taking in the electricity bouncing off of Penelope and me.

I continue the staring contest with Penelope until she makes the first move, which is to place her hand to my sweaty, hard chest, and push me away.

“Get out of here…” she pauses when her hand connects with my muscles. “Oh… that’s hard.” She gulps, making Davies laugh even harder.

I wiggle my eyebrows at Penelope. “Like what you feel?”

“No!” she takes her hand away, shakes it and then rubs it on the blanket. “You clearly take steroids, which would explain the micro-penis.”

Having no shame, Davies leans over the pile of food and presses her hand against my chest. “Hell, who cares about the micro-penis, the man has a tongue and fingers, that’s all we really need as women.” She feels up my chest, wandering over my nipples and down my stomach before Penelope whacks her back.

“Jesus, Davies, have some self-respect.”

“The bastard is stacked, I can’t help myself.” Davies looks at me. “Your suits don’t do you justice now that I see what’s underneath. You should start playing shirtless.”

I chuckle. “I’ll keep that I mind. So, you were just about to tell me what you were talking about before I got here.”

“Were we?” Penelope looks at the imaginary watch that is not on her wrist. “Aw, what a shame, we have to get going.” She goes to get up when I put my hand on her thigh, urging her to stay in place.

“Miss Prescott, I’m sure you don’t have to be to work until late afternoon. I know this because that’s when I’m scheduled to watch the screen. So, why don’t you relax, have another drink, and welcome your guest to your picnic, am I right ladies?”

“Here, here!” Page says with another lift of her drink.

“Traitorous bitch,” Penelope hisses at her friend. Page just shrugs her shoulder and drinks some more. I like this girl. I can tell she’s Team Gavin, something to take note of.

“Well…” I press.

Without a worry or care in the world, Davies answers for everyone. “We were just talking about Nell’s upcoming date with Nick.”

My jovial mood immediately turns into a murderous one. I snap my head to Penelope and ask, “Nick the bartender?”

“Oh, do you know of him?” she asks with faux innocence.

“You know damn well I do.” I grit out. “I thought I killed the idea of you going out with that tool bag.”

“Was that in the closet?” Page asks, sloshing her drink around. “Because she’s already gone out with him once since then.”

“
What
?” I snap, this time pure distaste in my voice. “When was this?”

I just ran five miles and over-exerted myself on the pull-up bar and sit up bench and I feel like my breath is more labored now than it was during my workout. Penelope already went out with Nick? What the fuck? If I knew she was seriously considering going out with him I would have stepped up my game. That, or I would have thrown in the towel and fucked the first woman who made a pass at me.

Okay, so that’s a lie, I already tried that and realized within a minute that I was so hung up on fucking Penelope that I wouldn’t be satisfied until I had her for one night. Damn womanly power. I blame all fucking vaginas. They have way too much control over men.

“It was nothing,” Penelope answers, a shyness to her voice. “It was just coffee.”

“Yeah but they’re going to the Red Room tonight for dinner. Aren’t you going to wear that black dress we talked about?” Davies asks Penelope, something gleaming in her eyes, something underhanded. That’s it, she just cut her goddamned tip by at
least
half.

“Oh, the one with the deep neckline and short skirt that falls mid-thigh?” Page claps her hands.

“Sounds slutty,” I add my two cents, unwisely.

Page confirms. “It is. She got it one night when we were on Freemont.”

Oh, that’s good to know. She got the dress while strolling down Freemont Street, very reassuring. It isn’t like that’s where all the hookers resided. Fucking perfect!

“I haven’t decided.” A devious grin spreads across Penelope’s face as she turns to me. “You know, it would be great to get a man’s opinion. What do you think Gavin? Should I wear the black dress that has a neckline that falls down to here?” She runs her fingers down her cleavage, dragging the neckline of her shirt, giving me an eye-full. “Or, should I wear a dress that has no back, but a higher neckline.” She turns her body, lifting her shirt to show me a portion of her bare back. Her shorts ride just low enough that I can see the little dimples that reside above her ass.

Fuck me
.

Keeping an impassive look on my face, I say, “The low neckline. Everyone’s already seen your tits, but that back and those ass dimples, those can be reserved for me.”

“Oh, you’re taking her out?” Davies asks, pushing this conversation the whole time. I eye her and all the evil little shit does is smile.

“You should take her out,” Page says excitedly. “Especially since you broke her vagina.”

“Page!” Penelope chastises. “You shut your mouth right now.”

“Oh, sorry,” she giggles. “I almost told him about your vibrator problems.”

“Oh hell,” Penelope huffs, taking a rather large sip of her drink.

Very pleased with Page right now, I make a note to hire her soon so I can pay her back for the wonderful information she’s divulged. Hell, I might even put her in my will. “You having some vibrator problems there, Miss Prescott? Anything I can assist you with?”

“I think you’ve done enough,” she snaps at me. “Now if you will excuse us, we don’t want you here anymore.” The way her bottom lip pokes out with an indignant pout makes me want to lean in and bite it.

“I don’t mind him, he’s a fine piece of eye candy,” Davies counters.

“I kind of like him,” Page sloppily winks at me, causing Penelope to fall on her back and stare up at the sky in frustration.

Caving into Penelope’s demands, only because I know for damn sure that I’ll be eating at the Red Room tonight now, I decide to leave, but not before testing Penelope one more time.

Leaning over her body, caging her head with my hands, I stare her in the eyes and talk softly to her, soft enough that Davies and Page would really have to strain to hear what I’m saying.

“I hope you have fun on your date tonight, Penelope.” She sucks in a deep breath at the sound of me saying her given name. “But I assure you it will be your last. Your next date will involve me in a suit, you in that backless dress, and a private dinner on my balcony where I’ll seduce you into my bedroom and fuck you until the sun comes up. Do you understand?”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink, just stares up at me, a little gulp working its way through her throat.

“Have a good day, Penelope.” I stand and tower over all three women. “It was a delight, ladies. Thank you for the grapes.” I adjust my shirt in the back of my shorts, turn Mumford and Sons back on and then part with a wink, leaving a confused Penelope behind me.

The Red Room and Nick the Bartender will have no clue what’s waiting for them when I arrive.

**NELL**

I should be nervous. It’s the first date I’ve been on in years. I should feel butterflies in my belly or have sweaty palms. There should be
something
indicating my excitement for this date, but instead, I feel… fine. No nerves, no giddy anticipation. I’m looking forward to going out because I know Nick’s a fun guy and I’ll have a good time, but as far as something romantic goes, I just hope it builds with time.

Because I
refuse
to let whatever is churning in my stomach when Gavin is around wear me down. No way in hell.
Especially
after that pathetic display he put on in the park today. Yes, the guy’s built like a brick shithouse. Yes, he’s one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever laid eyes on. The problem is, he knows it. And if there’s one thing I hate more than anything, it’s a cocky, self-absorbed asshole. I’d dealt with enough of that bullshit with my dickhead of a boyfriend back in high school. I’d be damned if I allow myself to fall for it again.

Nope. Nuh uh. No freaking way.

“Dayum,” Page snaps her fingers from the doorway of the bathroom. “You look hot, babe!”

I smile at her reflection in the mirror as I give my eyelashes one last swipe of mascara. “Thanks,” I say as I close the tube and spin around to face her.

“The backless dress was definitely the way to go. Nick’s going to swallow his tongue when he sees you.”

I give Page a wink as I make my way from the bathroom, toward the front door. Even though it’s a shallow win, I still feel like wearing this dress is a middle finger to Gavin. It’s my own little way of proving to myself that what he says doesn’t matter. I grab my clutch and spin around to face Page. “All right, I’m heading out. Lock the door after me, don’t answer it to strangers, don’t order any porn while I’m gone, keep all things metal out of the microwave. And for the love of God, try not to burn the house down.”

“Yes, Mom,” she laughs, leaning in to place a kiss on my cheek. “Have fun, and I want all the juicy details when you get home! I’m even willing to stay up late.”

“You got it.” I blow her another kiss and head out the door just as my Uber car pulls up. Nick had tried to talk me into letting him pick me up for the date, but I’m a modern girl, and these are modern times. I prefer meeting at the restaurant at the beginning of a potential relationship. It just keeps things from getting messy in case things don’t work out.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Nick breathes twenty minutes later as I climb out of the car in front of the Red Room where he’d been waiting. “Just when I think you can’t get any more beautiful, you prove me wrong.”

My cheeks heat just a bit under his praise. It’s nice to hear a man genuinely compliment me. Most men are easy to read, you can see the compliments come with ulterior motives, mainly, to get into the woman’s pants. But Nick doesn’t come across that way. The vibe I get every time we’re together is completely honest.

“Thanks,” I reply, wrapping my hand through his offered elbow as he leads me into the Red Room. “You’re looking pretty good yourself.” I scan the room on the way to the hostess stand. Needless to say, I’ve never been here before. It’s fancy, upscale, and
way
above my pay grade. Call me crazy, but I just can’t bring myself to pay a hundred dollars for a meal when I could be sending that money to my folks to try and ease their burdens. Hell, I’m surprised Nick would shell out that kind of cash. After all, bartenders can’t possibly make more than waitresses, can they?

Nick gives the petite blonde his name and offers up his signature polite smile, which, by the giddy expression on her face, she takes as her opening to flirt. It pisses me off. It isn’t jealousy, just plain old anger. Whatever happened to girl code, sisterhood, and all that Ya Ya traveling pants shit? I mean, by the way he’s holding onto my arm, it’s obvious we’re not here in a platonic sense.

“Right this way, sir,” she coos in a low, husky voice before batting her eyelashes and giggling. Seriously, I’m contemplating doing the world a favor and just snatching the bitch bald right here and now, but as I look up at Nick as Hostess Bitch leads the way to our table, I see he’s not even paying attention to her.

GAH
! I scream internally. He’s
such
a fantastic guy! Why can’t I feel butterflies, damn it?!

We take our seats, and I can’t help but sneer up at the hostess when Nick offers her a mumbled “
thanks
” without so much as making eye contact. Once she’s gone, I pick up my menu and tease, “Well, aren’t you fancy. This place is really nice, Nick.”

He shrugs, his cheeks growing a little pink, only making him that much more attractive. A man with enough humility to blush is one of the sexiest things in the world. But still… no butterflies.

Maybe something’s wrong with my stomach. That has to be the problem. Because no sane, logical woman on the planet wouldn’t want to climb this man like a tree.

“I wanted to make sure you had a great time,” he offers almost bashfully. I might not feel butterflies, but I definitely swoon right then.

“I’m pretty sure as long as I have you as my company, I’ll have a great time,” I answer honestly.

Nick’s mouth opens to reply when a deep, masculine, shiver inducing voice cuts him off, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Would you look at that? What a coincidence!”

Nick’s eyes go wide as I turn slowly in my chair, heat filling my veins once I finally lay eyes on the stupid jerk-face that I can’t seem to get out of my head no matter how hard I try. “Coincidence my ass,” I seethe under my breath.

“Uh… hey, man,” Nick offers politely if not a little uncomfortably. “I guess it’s true. Great minds think alike and all that,” he laughs awkwardly and I can’t blame him. Seeing someone like Gavin outside of the high roller suite is like a culture shock. The outside world of people like me and Nick should never cross paths with the outside world of people like Gavin Saint. It’s off-putting.

“
Hmph
,” Gavin makes a strange choking noise in the back of his throat before drolly muttering, “For some reason, I highly doubt that’s the case.”

“Hey,” I snap, suddenly feeling protective of Nick. Whether this night builds into anything more or not, the simple fact remains, I absolutely adore him. I won’t let anyone, even someone as rich as Gavin Saint, talk badly about the people I care about. “You’re the one that stopped by our table, not the other way around, so you can keep your smartass comments to yourself, and do everyone here a favor and move along.”

From the corner of my eye I can see Nick fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair. The hostess, who’d been making googly eyes at Nick just moments ago is now glaring at me as though she takes my attitude toward Gavin personally. The bitch really needs to make up her mind.