Play Maker(11)

“Martini?” I asked him, even though I knew that’s what he’d be drinking. No one wanted to be James Bond more than this guy.

“Shaken not stirred,” he slurred, making my point perfectly. God, I loved it when I was right on the money.

I poured a glass of white wine and prepared his martini. I slid them across the bar and waited for him to take a sip before I asked in the most innocent way I could muster:

“So, your wife stayed home tonight?”

He choked on the drink, gin spilling from his gullet.

“Wife?” his date asked, sounding appropriately offended.

“I can explain,” he sputtered. I passed him a napkin.

“No need,” she said and got up from the bar. “I’ll find my own ride home.”

Good girl, I thought, watching her leave. This was a mistake that she’ll be glad she avoided.

“You bitch!” Big Red’s eyes swung to me. “I’m divorced!” He pushed back from the bar, stumbling and almost falling. No one moved to help him. Someone was going to have a hell of a hangover tomorrow.

I put on my dumb blonde face. “Whoops!” I should have felt worse than I did.

“I’m not leaving a tip.” He shook his finger at me.

I shrugged. He had already stuffed the tip jar earlier in the evening before the young woman showed up, when he was seated at the bar staring greedily down my shirt. I doubted he had any cash left in his wallet anyways. I blew him a kiss as he staggered out of the bar and as my eyes swept across the crowd, they found a now-familiar blue pair.

My soccer hottie was standing at the other side of the room, giving me a great view of his long, lean form. His shirt was stretched tight across that wide chest, his jeans snug around his muscular thighs. And that hair. I was more than ready to have my fingers tangled in it. He gave me a wolfish grin, one that sent a chill down my spine. Now this was the kind of playboy I was very, very interested in. He held up his watch and gave me a wink. I bit back a sigh. Was it 2am yet?



What seemed like hours later, Manager Steve finally locked the doors after the last guest staggered out. He went to the backroom to avoid clean up, as he always did, leaving Maya and me to finishing closing up.

“Look at this,” Maya crowed, holding up our overflowing tip jars.

I whistled. It had been a good night. I tried to sneak a look at my phone, knowing that the rest of my night had the potential to be pretty great as well, but also knowing that there was a half-trashed bar standing between me and a seriously good time. As well as a 4am curfew that I never, ever broke.

I picked up the broom, but Maya snatched it away.

“Get out of here,” she said.

“What? No,” I argued. “This is way too much work for one person.”

“Please,” she snorted. “Like you haven’t closed for me before.”

“Not after a party like this,” I insisted, trying to take the broom back, but she wouldn’t let go. “You know I can take it from you.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged, her grip tight. She might have been skinny, but she was strong.

“You’re ridiculous.” I glanced over at the mountain of glasses on the bar and puddles of spilled drinks on tables and the floor.

“I’m a good friend,” she corrected. “Go. Get your sexy time on.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “You’ll owe me one,” she told me, her gaze serious. “Go on, get out of here.”

I was touched by her generosity. “Really?”

“Get!” She smacked me on the butt. “Before I change my mind!”

I didn’t need another urging. I gave her a quick hug and grabbed my bag from behind the bar. Usually I would have taken a few moments to freshen up, take my hair down and reapply my lipstick, but my feet – and libido – didn’t want to wait. I was ready to see exactly how well he would live up to his reputation. Just remembering the spark that had gone through me when our hands touched made me tremble imagining how it would feel when he touched me in other, more intimate places.

We hadn’t made any plans – hell, we hadn’t even made a formal introduction – but I wasn’t worried. I knew he would be waiting for me. And as I rounded the corner leading into the lobby, there he was, his long legs propped up as he reclined in one of the leather chairs in reception. When he spotted me, he rose, nice and slowly, giving me a great look at his fit frame, filling out his clothes in the most perfect way.

“Hi,” he said as I reached him.

“Hi,” I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“Want a drink?” he asked, his hands shoved casually in his pockets.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. “I’d love one.”





6





James





It wasn’t until we got into the elevator that I realized I didn’t know her name.

“This might seem a little belated, but,” I held out my hand, “I’m James.”

She smiled. Fuck, she had a great smile. It seemed to light up her whole face.

“Nicole.” She gave me a firm shake. Her hand was small and smooth in mine. I didn’t want to let go. In fact I wanted to take her right then and there. Against the wall of the hotel elevator. Just lift her up, wrapping her legs around my waist, my hands under that round, gorgeous ass and—