Page 5

Eyes on me. Not the hungry stares of the multitude of hopefuls working up the nerve to approach me.
No, these are different.
I scan the crowd and find a man staring at me from across the room. He doesn’t flinch, or turn away, when he catches me looking at him.
His bold gaze travels over my body, lingering on my tits, then drops down to the hem of my dress. He takes his time, then slowly reverses the appreciative path before he meets my gaze. A lazy smile curves his lips, and he holds my gaze far longer than a moment before turning away.
I stare after him, trying to catch another look, but he disappears into the crowd as if completely disinterested in me.
“Who was that?” Kaye hands me a bottle of water.
“Don’t know.” I twist off the cap and take a sip, letting the cool water slide down my throat.
Ever mindful of those who think to take advantage and spike my drink, I twist the cap back on after each and every sip.
“Was he hot?” Curious Kaye may have her professor, but she lives vicariously through my many conquests.
“He’s dangerous.” I give her a reassuring smile and tell myself to move on from the stranger.
I don’t do dangerous.
“You say the weirdest things.” Kaye grabs my hand and pulls me out onto the dance floor. “Come on, let’s dance.” We down the last of our drinks and head to the dance floor.
We dance, laughing as we join the others on the floor. I scan the room, trying to find that mysterious man and come up empty.
Bummer.
The music is fast and upbeat. We dance like it’s our last night on earth. I bump and grind suggestively with a few hopefuls, but none of them hold my interest.
When the song ends, Kaye and I wander back to the bar. I don’t see the man, but he’s still here. I feel his eyes on me.
He’s a predator, that one. Not the psycho-killer kind of predator. There’s something about him. Something that makes me want to know more.
And while I don’t see him, I feel him watching me. He wants me.
Well, I’m happy to play his game.
TWO
Barbi
Kaye interruptsmy thoughts when she hands me another bottle of water. “What do you think? See anyone interesting? Find your mystery man?”
“Not yet.” I take my time to scan the crowd before making my move.
The music swells and his palpable presence is back. It takes a moment to find him, but when I do, his intense gaze pins me down.
The room suddenly feels much smaller. Every inch of me is drawn to him, as if an invisible force were pulling me toward him. My heart races and my hands tremble as I sip at my drink. Each second our gazes remain locked on each other heightens the intensity of the moment.
The man definitely has a presence. From a square jaw, prominent chin, piercing eyes, to broad shoulders, and muscular arms, he screams danger and sex appeal.
The man knows how to dress. It’s both lazy, like he couldn’t care less what anyone thinks, yet perfectly put together to attract the opposite sex.
He wears a sexy leather jacket and jeans that cup an impressive package up front. If he turns around, I’m certain those jeans will hug his ass in just the right way. My heart beats faster as I watch from afar. He looks like the kind of man capable of giving me exactly what I need—no strings, no attachments. Just sex with someone who knows how to pleasure a woman.
A bevy of eager hopefuls surround him, laughing at something he says. The man’s clearly comfortable around the opposite sex, but he only has eyes for me. I bet there’s a long string of broken hearts in his past. Not that I’m looking to add mine to that sad list.
I’m looking to carve another notch on my lipstick tube and that’s where it ends.