Panty Dropper (A Sexy Standalone Contemporary Romance) (22 page)

Fuck, I can’t even afford to hire anyone else outside of our family. Yeah, I’m pissed that Asher came back this summer, but it did relieve our stress a bit, giving us a cheap helping hand.

The main door opens, and in walks Aubrey, wearing the tightest fucking jeans I’ve ever seen and a black T-shirt that looks painted on her skin. The outfit is simple but effective. Fuck me, she looks so good I want to jump over the bar and eat her alive.

My whole body is thrumming upon seeing her, and my cock pulses, pressing against the fly of my jeans. Shit. I will myself to lose my instant engorgement. I’m not going to entertain this attraction I have for her. I can’t. Not only am I wrong for her, she’s wrong for me. She’s innocent and naïve, not my type. I like my women experienced. Hardened, distant, even cynical.

I can take them to bed and we have some fun, but it never goes past that, and the kind of women I’m used to understand that. They enjoy it.

But Aubrey is different. Aubrey wouldn’t be okay with the occasional fuck, the late night drinks followed by a blowjob. She would want to be wined and dined and she deserves that much and more.

Only, I know I can’t give her any of it. I’m hardly keeping my head above water and the last thing I need is another person counting on me.

Jax slides up beside me. “She
is
pretty,” he murmurs, giving her an appraising look. “Probably amazing in bed, too.”

“Don’t even fucking thinking about it,” I retort. I don’t have any right to be possessive of her, I know, but I am. And I don’t want to spend any time mulling on the reasons why.

Jax shoots me a knowing look. The fucker can see right through me. Always could. He’s so good at reading unspoken thoughts. A couple of women have asked him if he’s psychic. “You like this girl,” he says. It’s not a question.

“Not at all.” I give a casual shrug, hoping he’ll buy it. “She’s not well suited for our bar. But I don’t want to be a dick to her or anything. We should just leave her alone.” There, a nice and easygoing answer. Nothing that reveals the true depth of my strange, unwanted feelings. The deep-down longing I have to tug her toward me again, taste her mouth again.

To taste more. To rip those tight jeans down, shove her panties aside, and lick the fuck out of that wet pussy.

I bet her come tastes amazing on my tongue.

My cock throbs harder at the thought. I can’t seem to push the images aside quite so easily. Because looking at her, perched on the bar stool, so innocent and unknowingly sexy, makes me want to do wicked, dirty things to her. Mess up that glossy hair and watch her unravel for me.

Jax shoots me a long look, then turns his back on me deliberately and moves over to her. “What can I get you?” he asks Aubrey.

She murmurs something to him, and he nods, strolls over to the bar, and pours her a beer. I bet it’s the beer I recommended for her that first night. I studiously keep my attention on the tasks at hand, cleaning the bar and serving other customers. I can’t let myself fall into this…whatever I’m feeling.

Because this girl isn’t like Maria. She doesn’t seem like the person who would flit from one sexual encounter to another, not caring too much, not getting attached. She seems like the forever type, and I don’t fucking want that at this point in my life.

Right?

I finish pouring a beer for Sam when Aubrey’s eyes connect with mine. I feel it square in my gut, a pull toward her. There’s a crackle of attraction between us so strong, I’m surprised no one else in the bar is winded by it. It almost knocks me off my fucking feet. The heat in her eyes, the smoky promise…
No, no, no,
I keep chanting, but I feel myself weakening.

I want her.

Plain and simple truth. I want her. I want to push inside her. I want to grip her hair and tug her scalp and lick her bared throat. I want to tie her wrists and ankles to my bed, make her helpless, weak, wet for me.

I want to leave my marks on her, bruise that delicate flesh, have her sore and aching after I ravage her.

But my cravings are most definitely too dark for her. And even if they weren’t, I’m not going to be any good for her. My life is way too fucked up and complicated to have anything to offer a girl like her. I’m not the white-picket-fence kind of guy. I can’t let myself start thinking otherwise.

Just having her here in Outlaws worries me. She shouldn’t even be within ten miles of me or this fucking place. It’s not safe—I’m not safe.

Jax lingers by her, talking with her, and she gives him a beatific smile. I find my own heart clenching in response. Fuck, how can she be so beautiful? Even still, with the glow on her face, I can see something deeper lingering underneath. An emotion that seems to haunt her, that has haunted her since I first met her.

I shouldn’t let myself care about what’s going on with this chick. But I want to know. Why did she move to our town, our state, of all places? Why does she have that sadness around her?

Is she as pure and innocent as she seems?

Could she ever be interested in entertaining my dirtiest desires? The way I’d love to bend her over and smack my hand on her ass, just to start? Leave my handprint on her skin as a mark of ownership, of possession?

How I’d like to sink my teeth into the back of her neck? Cuff her to my bed? Brand the insides of her thighs with the suction of my mouth, the clench of my teeth? My hunger is deep and wicked, always unsatisfied.

There’s no way Aubrey could fulfill that. She looks too fragile and innocent to be into any sort of pain.

Then she shoots me a look. Her eyes connect with mine over my brother’s shoulders, and there’s a heat in there that surprises me, floods my body. Like she knows she’s driving me crazy and she wants to. Like she wants me hungry for her. I see the way one side of her mouth crooks in the corner. How her eyes lower ever so slightly, hooded, aroused. She wants me too. I can see it plain as day.

God, I need to fuck her. Right fucking now.

It takes a herculean effort to make myself turn away from her and move toward the office. My refuge. I can’t think straight around her, can’t focus. My whole body is on fire for Aubrey, my fingers itching to grip her hard and leave small bruises on her flesh. I’m dirty, filthy, unworthy, but God help me, I want to pollute her a little with my sin. Make this angel learn how to love the darkness.

I spend a good half hour in the office, shuffling papers around blindly. Trying to convince my raging cock to calm down and lose its erection. But every time I do, I think about Aubrey’s sexy mouth, her on her knees, peering up at me with those innocent eyes. And my dick screams to be released from my pants and allowed to come.

She can’t keep showing up at Outlaws, right? If I ignore her, she’ll eventually stop dropping by. I should be happy at the thought, but it leaves a heavy feeling in my chest. Something about her smile is addictive; I want more.

I nearly thunk my head against the desk.
Stop being a fucking shithead
, I chastise myself. This isn’t like me. I don’t lose my cool over girls. They’re fun to touch and kiss and fuck, but that’s it.

I never want more from them.

Finally, I manage to cool myself down enough to emerge from the office. I’m back in control. Back to myself. Chill. Collected. Unattached.

I walk to the bar and will myself to not look at Aubrey. I’m not going to fucking look at her. She’s just a customer, that’s all. Nothing else.

My gaze slides, unbidden, over to her.

There’s a slim but fit guy I don’t recognize, wearing a tight, faded blue shirt. He’s leaning toward her, his teeth flashing, and she’s smiling at him. He’s charming, clean-cut. Engaging too, from what I’m seeing. Probably a better fit for her than I am, that’s for fucking sure.

Tell that to my chest though, because it’s so tight it feels like my lungs are going to squeeze out. Jealousy burns my veins.

I don’t want anyone else getting that smile. The one that makes a man feel like the center of her world. I need that smile for myself. It’s one thing to convince myself I don’t want her. Another to be faced with the possibility of her bringing a different man back to her apartment tonight.

Before I can question myself, I walk over to their side of the bar. I ignore the guy completely and lock eyes on her, giving her the full weight of my stare.

Letting her know exactly how far I’m willing to go, letting her see what I want—no holding back.

Aubrey’s breath catches; I see the hitch in her chest as she swallows, stares back. The heat in her eyes slides beneath my skin, thickens my dick. I need to taste her mouth so badly right now I can barely see.

I have to get her away from this guy. That’s the sole thought throbbing through me. I want her. I want her so much it hurts.

The guy clears his throat. “I’d like another Bud Light, please.”

I don’t take my gaze off Aubrey, though. I want to hear what she’s going to say. Can she read the desire in my eyes?

Aubrey licks her upper lip, a small swipe of her pink tongue that makes my dick pulse. “I’m…going to, uh, go to the restroom.” Then she pauses, gives me a meaningful look. A loaded look.

Fuck. Fuck yes.

It takes all my patience to wait, pour the Bud Light for this asshole. Give her a moment to work her way slowly to the hallway toward the bathroom.

Then I move.

My pulse pounds so hard as I walk toward the women’s bathroom. I hope to God no one is in there, because I’m going to kick everyone out. I need to taste her pussy right fucking now, and there isn’t any force on earth that can stop me.

I whip the door open and see Aubrey spin around from the center of the room, her gaze a little nervous, her fingers twisting in front of her. A quick glance around and at the bottom of the two stalls shows no one else is in here.

I turn the lock and click it closed behind us. Stalk toward her. “You came here tonight for me, didn’t you,” I say.

She swallows, nods. Releases her fingers and presses her hands to the sides of her jeans.

“I hope you’re ready.”

“For what?” Her words are barely a breath when I grab her by the waist and angle her ass toward the bathroom sink. In a moment I have her jeans unbuttoned. In another, they are unzipped and sliding down her skin.