Free Hitting on the Hooker by Mina Carter Page B

you there.”
    A hint of
perfume reached his nose, delicate and haunting. He’d thought she’d
be pretty. He was wrong.
    She was
stunning.
    Dark eyes
tilted up at the corners, cat-like, set over a button nose and a
pair of bee-stung lips that looked kissable soft. Unlike the
hanger-ons crowding the bar, she wasn’t plastered in makeup, her
natural beauty drawing him like a moth to the flame. A cap of dark
hair framed her face. His fingers itched to reach out, touch it to
see if it was as silky as it looked, and to run through it,
gripping it as he angled her head so he could claim her lips.
    Her hair fell
forward, covering her face as she looked down at his foot, and
bouncing back as she glanced back up at him.
    “I’m so sorry.
I didn’t mean to trample you. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
    If she hadn’t
looked so worried, he might have laughed at the idea a little thing
like her could have hurt him. Hell, she could run over him in full
studs, and it wouldn’t bother him, not after the rest of the
elephants on the team tried it in training regularly. With her, it
would just be kinky.
    He smiled. His
best, panty-remover, charming smile. “Well, that depends.”
    The delicate
arch of her eyebrow rose, her lips pursing a little in a way that
fascinated him. “Depends? On what?”
    Her questions
were blunt and direct, without a hint of a giggle or other coyness
he was used to when dealing with women on a night out. As he’d
thought as soon as he saw her, she was cut from a different cloth
to the normal class of women who pursued the Sharks. Then again,
that might be because she wasn’t chasing him, he was chasing her.
And with every second, he was growing more determined to catch
her.
    “On whether or
not you let me get you another.” He flicked a glance to the empty
glass behind her and dropped his voice, risking a small move
closer. “You’d be doing me a big favor. Half this lot wants to talk
about cars, and the other half just wants to chat up women. I’m
dying
for some intelligent conversation here.”
    Triumph hit him
when she smiled and nodded. “Hmm, okay. I guess I have time for one
more drink.”
    “Thank you.
You’ve saved me from insanity, seriously. I’m Tom. I’m with the
Sharks, but I guess you already knew that,” he said, and kicked
himself. So much for Mr. Cool. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
    She chuckled, a
dirty little sound that hit him right in the groin, and nodded.
“Maybe a little. I’m Fern. Pleased to meet you, Tom.”
    “Likewise.” He
turned her back to the bar with a gentle hand on her waist, angling
his body to cut off the rest of the squad’s view. He wasn’t
normally so anti-social, but he didn’t want to share her with
anyone. With a quick gesture, he signalled the girl behind the bar
to bring more drinks. “Fern. A pretty name for a pretty lady.”
    “Smooth
talker.” Despite her come-back, a faint flush rose on her cheeks,
proving she wasn’t immune to his compliments. “I didn’t hurt your
foot, did I?”
    He slid her a
sideways glance and winked. “Would I lie about something like that?
It’s throbbing something fierce.”
    Throbbing—like
something else. Keeping a smile on his face, he tried to clamp down
his body’s reaction, but her perfume winding around him and the
curve under his hand stopped it. He was as stiff as a fucking
goalpost and so ready for action that if they were alone right now,
he’d have that dress off and her under him in a heartbeat.
    “Yeah, sure it
does. Next, you’ll be asking me to rub it better.”
    Fuck
me
. His mind on a different track, he almost spat the mouthful
he’d just taken across the bar, managing to swallow at the last
moment and half choking himself in the process.
    She grinned as
he coughed and spluttered, offering him a napkin, the light in her
eyes proving she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
    “Saucy witch,”
he muttered, wiping his mouth and looking at her with a keener
gaze. Oh, this one