Page 9 of Operation Annulment (Silent Phoenix MC)

eight

Kate

I t’s been two weeks since the world’s most awkward date. Two weeks since Nate left me dazed and painfully aroused in a parking lot after the best kiss of my life.

I might have assumed he was blowing me off with the work excuse if it weren’t for the daily texts. And these aren’t just any texts—no.

These are texts that no self-respecting woman should respond to, texts that leave me aching and take everything I thought I knew about relationships and turn it upside down.

Nate: I can’t get you out of my mind, Katy girl. I’ve got to see you again soon. The things I’ve got planned for that mouth of yours…

I blush just thinking about them before going back to rowing with a frustrated growl. All the pent-up sexual tension is taking a toll on my mental state, leaving me in a perpetual state of wanting that all the vibrators in the world can’t fix.

Did I join my sister’s gym to spend more time with her? Absolutely. Do I scan the parking lot whenever I come, hoping to spot Nate’s car? No comment.

Dakota’s gone completely still on her machine, hands gripping the cables while she stares into space.

“Earth to Dakota,” I sing when she shows no signs of snapping out of her stupor anytime soon. “What happened to ‘We’re rowing until our arms fall off?’”

She jerks and pulls herself forward before stopping again. “Why are we doing this to ourselves?”

I couldn’t even begin to guess. Rowing on a machine is an incredibly dull workout.

“Agree. Pancake time?” I suggest with a hopeful grin.

She grabs my calf as I move to stand, tugging me back down.

“No. I mean, why are we chasing after men who clearly aren’t interested?

I’ve thrown myself at Zane for the past few weeks, and he politely turns me down each time.

You’re hung up on a man who has an unhealthy obsession with his ex-wife. Why?”

My heart drops down to the rubbery mat at my feet.

I’ve tried to accept that he’s busy with work, but the truth has been staring me in the face the entire time.

His ex is still involved in his life to some degree—he admitted as much at dinner—and I’d bet my next paycheck she’s the reason we haven’t gone out again.

Well, maybe not my entire paycheck, but, like, a couple of dollars.

Nate may be texting me daily, but I don’t know him.

Not really, anyway. I know his work is demanding, but not what he actually does.

I know he’s a damn good kisser, but not why he’s kept in contact with the woman who broke his heart.

And the worst part is, he seems perfectly content to keep it that way.

I swallow past the sudden dryness in my mouth as the universe provides a much-needed cosmic tit slap to the face.

“You’re right—why should we wait around night after night, just hoping they’ll show up and take us roughly against the wall while telling us what a dirty, dirty girl we are?

If they can’t see what’s in front of them, then screw them!

You and I are going out for drinks, and they can sit at home, waiting for us to call.

But we won’t because we’ll be out, drinking alcohol and meeting new men—better men.

” I clear my throat, aware I said much more than I meant to.

Dakota’s eyebrows are hovering near her hairline. “Wait—that’s not exactly what I was?—”

“Awesome,” I interject, reaching for my water bottle. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

And if this doesn’t work, I’ll recruit Jeremy to take my mind off Nate.

I’m getting desperate here.

“This article says tequila shots are the best way to forget your troubles.”

“Seriously?” Dakota asks, adjusting her glasses as she leans over to peer at my phone screen. “That seems a little, I don’t know, hardcore for our first time. I was thinking more along the lines of Coors Light or maybe one of those wine spritzer things.”

“It’s not our first time,” I argue, despite agreeing with her logic. “We’ve had drinks before.”

“A glass of champagne at weddings doesn’t count,” she mutters while tugging at the top of the strapless dress I insisted she wear.

“Don’t text Zane back. Don’t wear the Deadpool shirt and jeans.

I gotta be honest here. So far, I’m not loving ‘Girl’s Night.

’ I sort of envisioned something a little more—I dunno—fun. ”

That makes two of us.

Nate: Okay, I’m starting to worry. Text me back… please.

I gnaw at my thumbnail before placing my phone face-down on the bar.

Not tonight, Mr. Davis. Not tonight .

“What’ll it be, ladies,” the bartender asks, his eyes dropping to the deep v of my dress.

I plant the toes of my heels on the footrail beneath the bar and lean across, giving him an even better view. “We’re thinking of tequila shots,” I say, toying with the ends of one of my curls. “But I might need a few pointers.”

His grin turns wolfish as he grabs a bottle of tequila, some salt, and a couple of limes. He takes my hand and casually strokes the back with his finger.

“Lick right here,” he says, his gaze darkening as he watches my tongue sweep over the skin. “Now, we add the salt.”

“Yeah, that seems super unsanitary,” Dakota notes as he pours it onto my hand, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

I have got to get some alcohol into this girl, or this night will be over before it’s even begun.

“And then what?” I ask in a breathy tone that makes me sound like an airhead.

He releases my hand to pour the shots before sliding them in front of us. “You’re going to lick the salt, knock back the tequila in one drink, and then suck on the lime wedge. Lick. Slam. Suck.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip as he says it, and I feel… absolutely nothing.

I turn to Dakota. “Ready?”

“I don’t know,” she says, pursing her lips. “Don’t all the bad drinking stories start with tequila?”

“No, they start with someone being too much of a scaredy cat to drink a shot?—”

“Take a shot,” the bartender corrects with an amused grin. “Don’t drink it. Just knock it back.”

“You heard the man, Dakota. Just knock it back and live a little,” I declare before raising my shot glass. “To not chasing.”

My reflection moves in and out of focus in the bathroom mirror, and I grip the sides of the sink to steady myself. When the first shot didn’t help take my mind off Nate, I ordered another round.

And then another.

What was it Luke had said—that tequila sneaks up on you?

That was the bartender’s name, right?

Or was it Levi?

I wet a paper towel with cold water and press it to my flushed cheeks, silently willing the room to stop moving so I can think straight.

My phone buzzes against the scarred laminate countertop.

Nate. Again.

Nate: I can come to you, or you can come here, but I won’t sleep until I know you’re okay.

Leave him on read. That was the rule.

But that was before the liquor turned my body into one large erogenous zone. Before tonight, I’d never understood the appeal of drinking. I always thought people used it as an excuse to act out and let their shadow side run free.

But I get it now.

I feel buzzy and relaxed and—“Horny,” I mumble before slipping into a stall and locking the door behind me.

The warmth in my face migrates lower as I work my dress up over my hips and tug my panties down.

Torture.

That’s what this man has been doing to me for two weeks. Torturing me with promises he hasn’t kept.

I bite back a moan as I slide my fingertips through the sticky strands of arousal clinging to the insides of my thighs before deciding it’s time for a little payback.

Kate: I want to come for you .

For the first time, I’m free to say or do anything I want without repercussions. It’s exhilarating.

I suck my index finger into my mouth and push my lips into a pout before snapping a photo. I could leave it at that—add the image to a hidden folder and call it a night—but I want him to hurt like I do.

Kate: Tell me, is this what you had planned for my mouth?

Nate: Where are you?

“Uh, uh, uh,” I say with a grin before slipping my arms out of the straps of my dress. “That’s not how this works, baby.”

Feeling bratty, I yank the cups of my strapless bra down and tease my nipples until they tighten into aching points.

Kate: Just thinking about your hands on my body…

Nate: FUCKKKKKKKKK…

Nate: Wait—is that a bathroom stall?

Nate: Are you in a bar?

Nate: Katy girl, tell me where you are right the fuck now!

“What’s the matter, baby?” I groan, adjusting the camera angle as I dip a finger into my body. “Don’t like being strung along?”

Kate: See what you do to me… what you’ve been doing to me for weeks?

Kate: But you’re too busy, so I guess I’ll just have to find someone else who’s man enough for the job.

His reply comes through almost immediately.

Nate: You can tell me where you are, or I’ll drive to every bar in the Depot District.

Nate: But know that when I find you—and I will find you—I’m going to take you back to my place and tie you to my bed.

Nate: Then, I’m going to take my time proving to you that I am the only man for the job.

Nate: Over… and over…

Nate: Katy girl, I’d go ahead and cancel any weekend plans you have because it’s probably going to take a while until it sinks in that this thing between us is far from over.

Nate: We’re just getting started.

I let my head fall back against the stall with a dull thud, feeling strangely out of breath. Not because of the texts or the images they conjure up. Not at all.

“It’s just the tequila,” I say, righting my dress, even as shivers dance across my skin.